Let It Be Done to Me

A Prayer for the Freedom to Say Yes

“Behold the handmaid of the Lord;

let it be to me according to your word.”

— Luke 1:38

Lord Jesus Christ,

You know what lies before me.

I do not.

And perhaps I do not need to know.

My heart desires You.

It desires Your will.

Let that be enough.

Do not let fear speak more loudly than Your voice.

Do not let anxiety make me cautious where You ask for trust.

Do not let the memory of wounds make me protect myself from what You may now be giving.

And do not let desire deceive me either.

I know how easily the heart can call its own plans providence.

I know how quietly the will can build a road and then ask You to bless it.

Save me from this.

I do not want the path I can construct for myself.

I do not want the answer that merely relieves uncertainty.

I do not want what is easiest, safest, or most reassuring.

I want what You desire.

If the way opens, let me receive it without grasping.

If the way closes, let me receive that too.

If You ask me to wait, teach me to wait without trying to force tomorrow into being.

If You ask something I did not expect, give me the freedom to recognize You there.

Let nothing be wasted.

Not the years that have passed.

Not the wounds.

Not the loves.

Not the losses.

Not the long searching.

Not the silence.

You have been present in all of it, even when I could not see what You were doing.

So I place before You now the life that remains.

My name.

My history.

My calling.

Those entrusted to me.

The work of my hands.

The prayer of my heart.

Whatever may still be asked of me.

I place it all before You without condition.

Only do not let me turn away because I am afraid.

The fathers fled into the desert because they desired one thing: to belong entirely to You. I have nowhere else to go. The desert You have given me is here, in the life before me, in the obedience of this day.

Teach me to remain there with You.

Strip away the need to defend myself.

Strip away the need to explain myself.

Strip away the need to know where everything leads.

Give me instead a heart that listens.

A heart poor enough to receive.

A heart free enough to obey.

A heart quiet enough to recognize You when You come in a form I had not imagined.

Lord, I consent not to know the path.

I consent not to possess the future.

I consent even to lose what I thought my life was meant to be, if in losing it I may be found more completely in You.

Come what may.

Only keep me near You.

And when the moment comes in which I must speak, or remain silent, or wait, or move, let there be nothing in me but truth.

No fear.

No calculation.

No hidden demand that things turn out as I wish.

Only this:

Here I am, Lord.

My heart desires You.

Let it be done to me according to Your will.

Amen.