Cutting Words: A Prayer

Cutting words questioning my judgment Knife through my soul, sear my spirit. Fatigue slows my reaction, sparing hurt From rash response hurriedly spoken. Grant me wisdom, O Lord, help me heal Their pain that challenges authority. Silence my raging scream; awaken love. Bruised, I crave to return brutal shove. Comfort me; stem the bleeding, Let my vision see those needing Hope, not contempt; an ear, not rebuke. I breathe deeply, direct at myself a look. Spur my courage, reveal slander's source And from my response, my pride divorce.