by Joe Seramane
You asked for my hands
that you might use them for your purposes.
I gave them for a moment; then I withdrew them, for
the work was hard.
You asked for my mouth
to speak against injustice.
I gave you a whisper that I might not be accused.
You asked for my eyes
to see the pain of poverty
I closed them, for I did not want to see.
You asked me or my life
that you might work through me.
I gave you a small part that I might not get
"too involved".
Lord, forgive me for calculated efforts to serve you
only when it is convenient for me to do so,
only in those places where it is safe to do so, and
only with those who make it easy to do so.
Father, forgive me, renew me,
send me out as a usable instrument,
that I may take seriously the meaning of your Cross.
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