Lord, i will give You this year of my life.
i will get up at 5:00am 5 days a week and drag my tired body and rebellious heart, kicking and screaming and whining, up Your mountain, through the dirt and the cats and the cold and the rain and the heat and the hamseen
the hamseen... i will breathe this dusty, polluted, foul-smelling air for a year, when i'm used to the fresh smell of the South Carolina morning by the pond with a tint of cow manure... i will drink more and more of this nasty water...
You will give me the glorious rose perfume of the Shrines... and those beautiful little white flowers that sit on the Threshold and beg me to prostrate my nose into them and breathe so deeply... until i cannot... hold... any ... more... until the perfume drives away the thoughts of any other thing that has ever filled my lungs... and my heart... and my soul... You will allow me to get lost in the warm light of the Shrine lamps, the soft, palpable flow that comes from hard, cold stone illuminated by Your light...
Lord, for You i will bite my tongue over... and over... and over again, until it hurts to be misunderstood and undervalued, because i know that the only value worth having is that which comes from forgetting myself and what i might "deserve" and moving and serving and working and striving until i ache... and it feels good...
You will give me people to hold me up, people to defend me against myself and encourage me... people to cry with me and feel this ache of wanting to give up, and the ache of knowing that the bruises will heal and we will be stronger to serve You better... people to test me and my reliance on You and forgetfulness of self, or lack thereof... people to enrich my mind with ideas i'd never conceived and places i've never been and experiences i've never dreamed of... people to love me when i don't love myself... through my mistakes, my inadequacies, my frustration, my joy...
i will give this year of should-haves, would-haves... i will do everything that i think i can... and many things that i think i can't... i will carry this ridiculous thing up those stairs... i will mop this floor that we could already eat on... i will pick up that ball of fluff, straighten that fringe, and walk back up those stairs to put the mats and the keys back where they belong...
You will put me to work on the best crew, with a schedule with no time to spare, with the strongest and most determined people so that i can become strong and determined to do... You know what... someday... i will do those pointless things for you... i'll put my cell phone on vibrate... i'll mop the spotless Council Chambre... i'll sweep the car parks... i'll hang from a rope on scaffolding, praying that You'll make it hold, while i swing into a column to get that last invisible line off the side...
You will let me see January 16th and the last week of May and the service areas on Your Arc and the Council Chambers and the offices and the terraces and the gardens and even the hairs of Your Blessed Head... i will look at the little things... that flower... that smile... that ray of light that falls just so through those windows so that my floor... Your floor... shines like the mirror on my wall... You will teach me that i can... You will give me the strength...
You will teach me that i am not responsible for how others treat me, but i am responsible for my behavior, my feelings, my actions... i will beg you to give me patience, give me love, give me strength, make me beautiful, make me smart, make me a better servant, make my hair behave, make my mind behave, purify my motives... You will give me everything i need... and even some of the stupid things...
i will thank You for a family that taught me about Your love, reliance on You, laundry, cooking stir fry, being teach-able, following instructions, communication, serving Your servants... You will further test these skills... over... and over... and over...
i will clean for 1 year of my life and pray that You will accept it... even through the grumbling... hear my soul, not my words...
You'll know what my limits are.. and You'll stretch them...and the stretching will make me give You the rest of my years...
(farewell message to the Bahá'í World Centre, June 2001 )
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