By Jill Briscoe
Lord, forgive us for our huge ability to see the faults
in others before we see our own.
Our eyes—so full of planks of prejudice prevent us
from seeing minute motes
of little account
within our brother’s eye.
Guilty as charged, we proudly pronounce
-and they may well be—
But oh, dear Lord, what right do we
small measly mortals
have to judge the motives
of men’s hearts?
Teach us that there be but one
great throne of judgment and
that it be most thoroughly
occupied by Thy dear self.
And may we through the knowledge of Thy Son
demolished by our sense of
so know our jungle natures’ tendencies,
we are forced to cry, “Oh God, be merciful to ‘me,’
And may the tolerance that
precipitate a caring of the heart
set free from
judgment chains that change a
Our troubled, tumbled, truculent, terrible,
tantalizing, touching world!
A world of moms and dads and little ones
fighting for their families—
Oh, may they win!
Hold them together, Lord,
Hold them fast,
prevent them from blowing up their lives
with the devil’s dynamite.
Give us grace to tell them—Jesus makes the difference!