Please Take From Me My Life

October 25, 2004

When I don’t have the strength to give it away to you, Jesus. It’s the anecdote of the keys in my hand. I can’t hand them to you, but I’m willing to let you take them from me. I’m of two minds–not wanting the life I have, yet unwilling to let go of it. From this hilltop I look back at the life lived, the ground covered on my journey. Am I like Much Afraid, making progress toward the high places, even when it seems not? I hope today I am. One step at a time, I’ll call you Shepherd. Take my life; I don’t have the strength to give it away. I can’t understand why you’d want it, but you are a better artisan than I. You know how to remove the dross from the silver. Shall the clay tell the potter what to do? Seems I try. Remembering I am dust. Glad you do. Dust in the wind, all I am is dust in the wind.

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