I pray for strength to get past fury when people judge my actions out of context and criticize me.
Or worse, when they advise me.
I pray for strength to believe in the truth I have lived by.
I pray that I do not let other people's estimation of my character or my capacity to love hurt me.
I pray that I do not get judgmental of people, especially when they too speak out of ignorance, pain, or despair. As I have.
I pray that I am strong enough to get through a difficult marriage and still cherish the good moments I had.
I pray that I take care of my parents as unflinchingly as they have taken care of me.
I wish that I can get past the guilt that I have put them through so much trouble, and yet they are always, always there for me. And they are always, always smiling.
I pray that I never forget to appreciate this force of life that has given me so much. A family that will stand by me, no matter what. Friends who won't ask questions before they offer their shoulders to weep on. Colleagues who have shown the kind of compassion I hadn't expected from strangers.
I pray that I never lose the will to travel or write or try something new.
I pray that I don't hold it against people when they don't believe my side of the story. When stories get personal, biases are a given. Sometimes, even the most blatant sequence of events can be interpreted in various ways.
I pray that I never, ever behave like the people who make me angry.
I pray that I have the strength to keep silent when lashing out is tempting.
I pray that I understand the difference between ego and dignity.
I pray that I have the strength to pick my battles well. And having picked them, fight fair to the finish.
I pray for peace. For myself, for everyone. An agitated mind is an ugly mind.
I pray that I am a strong, happy parent to my daughter.
I pray that I can sing in the rain, again.
I pray that I can sleep through a night again.
I pray, with all my heart, to look forward to a tomorrow again.