"Lord, Thou knowest better than I know myself that I am growing older and will someday be old. Keep me from the fatal habit of thinking I must say something on every subject and on every occasion. Release me from craving to straighten out everybody's affairs. Make me thoughful but not moody; helpful but not bossy.
With my vast store of wisdom, it seems a pity not to use it all, but Thou knowest, Lord, that I want a few friends in the end.
"Keep my mind free from the recital of endless details; give me wings to get to the point. Seal my lips on my aches and pains. They are increasing and my love of rehearsing them is becoming sweeter as the years go by. I dare not ask grace enough to enjoy the tales of other's pains, but help me to endure them with patience.
"I dare not ask for improved memory, but for a growing humility and less cocksureness when my memory seems to clash with the memory of others. Teach me the glorious lesson that occassionally I may be mistaken.
"Keep me reasonable sweet, I do not want to be a saint - some of them are so hard to live with - but a sour old person is one of the crowing works of the devil. Give me the ability to see good things in unexpected places and talents in unexpected people. Give me the grace to tell them so."
Hugs, Linda
