A Prayer – Day 7

7 Elul 5774
By Lisa Ackerman

A Prayer

Quiet. Stillness. Calm. Prayer. These have always been difficult for me. That monkey brain of mine jumping from thought to thought, unable to sit still, perhaps afraid to do so. And yet, I know that it’s in the quiet that I actually hear what is important. I desire the stillness, but maybe not so much that I devote time to making it happen. No time to spare. No time to quiet down. I weary quickly of the effort anyway. After all, my muscles are weak and flabby from under use and even the tiniest effort can be such a burden. But I know you are there. Quiet and patient.

Care to negotiate some terms? I hear you are willing on occasion. How about this? I promise to soften, to not be so short tempered with those I love, to not be so bitter towards a world that is often cruel and unfair.  I promise to remember what it was like to be a slave in Egypt, to show more kindness to the stranger and to lend what little might I may have to the oppressed.  I promise to mend what is broken, to tame my tongue, to forgive myself for not being the women I thought I would be.

I promise to forgive you for not being the God I thought you should be.

I promise. I promise. Well…I promise to try harder. This is the only way I can figure out how to come closer to you, how to come closer to becoming holy like you are holy. So little to offer, I know, but what more can we expect from me? In return, please remain patient. Please wait for me. I am coming along. I must be.

2 Responses to A Prayer – Day 7

  1. Rise' Kirbo September 5, 2014 at 5:04 pm #

    Lisa, the stillness is always a challenge for those little monkeys in our heads! I am smiling at your idea of negotiating some terms. I think forgiving God is a courageous statement. Thank you for sharing.

  2. Monica engel September 10, 2014 at 10:54 am #

    Lisa – You never cease to amaze me. Your courage to make your struggle so “public” is admirable and you have given me the courage to admit my same struggles. Todah rabah.

    Monica