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Help me to need my husband on those days when we don't always agree on trivial matters. Help me, for I would not be a fair-weather wife.
Help me to need my teenage son, not only when he is at his best, but also when he is a brilliant oaf. Help me so that I will not be a fair-weather mother.
Help me, O Lord, to need the faultiness of things and people. Help me to live with human imperfection, for I know that I am not always at my best, yet loved ones accept me and the world goes on.
Help me to need my house and furnishings, when I would redecorate.
Help me to need the local paper on the days when I think I would prefer the New York Times, a mountain when I'd like a skyscraper, a backyard barbecue when I envision a Hawaiian vacation.
In short, dear Lord, help me to to be me--because nobody else can.
Juliana Lewis is a freelance writer from El Paso, TX.
Return to the M.B. Herald Vol. 35, No. 12
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