Your Will Be Done

The rich man prays for greater wealth
The beggar, bread to eat.
The ailing pray for new found health
And I Your will to meet.
The din must be so horrendous
And hard to sort it out.
Their needs may be tremendous, but
That's not what prayer's about.

All men must learn that You are not
A magic wishing tree
That grants fond wishes on the spot
For all humanity.
My Lord, I know you have a plan
For all, including me.
It is Your will not that of man,
I pray for willingly.

I'm well aware You know my needs
Far better than do I.
You, my loved Lord, are one who heeds
The least of all who cry.
You know the reason some may grieve
And some are unwell still;
And how it all fits in the weave
Of wise eternal will.

I offer then, myself to You
To do with as You may;
Knowing the whys of what You do
I'll understand some day.

By: Joyce 01/29/04