Lord, thou knowest better than I know myself

[janbear]

Lord, thou knowest better than I know myself, that I am growing
older, and will someday be old.

Keep me from getting talkative, and particularly from the fatal
habit of thinking I must say something on every subject and on
every occasion.

Release me from the craving to try and straighten out everybody’s
affairs.

Keep my mind free from the recital of endless details – give
me wings to get to the point.

I ask for grace enough to listen to the tales of others’ pains.
Help me to endure them with patience.

But seal my lips on my own aches and pains. They are increasing,
and my love of rehearsing them is becoming sweeter as the
years go by.

I dare not ask for improved memory, but for a growing humility
and a lessening cocksureness when my memory seems to clash
with the memories of others.

Teach me the glorious lesson that I may occasionally be mistaken.

Keep me reasonably sweet. I do not want to be a saint – some of
them are so hard to live with – but a sour old woman (or man) is
one of the crowning works of the devil.

Make me thoughtful, but not moody; helpful, but not bossy.

With my vast store of wisdom, it seems a pity not to use it; but
thou knowest, Lord, I want a few friends at the end.

Give me the ability to see good things in unexpected places, and
talents in unexpected people. And give me, Lord, the grace to
tell them so.

- Dale Evans Rogers, from Time Out Ladies!