The Prayer of the Designated Worrier
Lord, why did you give me these hands,
Knowing I would wring them?
Why are my molehills so high?
Yet, if I must spin in circles,
Let me weave a web of beauty;
If I must cry, may my tears glisten
Like dew droplets on my web in the sun;
May I, Lord, as your Designated Worrier,
Spin not only webs of worry,
But nets of peace, love and acceptance
Encircling each Your children;
May I bring to all your message!
Holy Father & Holiest of Mothers, forgive my gnashing of teeth,
And all undue fuss!
Grant that your night, in all its splendor
Be the only black I see!
And, Lord, keep, O keep
Your Arm ever near my shoulder,
That I might lean,
With that I shall be a little less neurotic,
And as Your child--serene.
By Connie Nelson Ahlberg
1994 All Rights Reserved.