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Posted by on February 9, 2015

I found this in my files.  My attack of masculine smug quickly dissipated when I realized this could just as easily apply to aging men, too.


Lord, keep me from believing I must say something on every subject and release me from needing to straighten out everybody’s affairs.

Make me thoughtful but not moody; helpful but not bossy.  With my vast store of wisdom it seems a pity not to use it all; but I really want a few friends left at the end . . .

Keep my mind free from reciting endless details and give me wings to get to the point.  I’ll not ask for improved memory, but for a growing humility and a lessening self-assurance when my memory seems to clash with the memories of others.  Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally . . .  I might be mistaken.

Keep me reasonably sweet, for a cranky old (wo)man is one of the crowning works of the devil.  Give me the ability to see good things in unexpected places and talents in unexpected people; and give me, O Lord, the grace to tell them so.


Yeah.  Me, too, Lord.  Me, too.


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