Hear my Prayer

O Lord,
Listen to my cry for help;
Be not deaf to my weeping.
For I dwell with you as a stranger,
as all my fathers were.
Look away from me,
That I may rejoice again
before I depart and am no more.

I wish I was the center of the universe. But I am undependable. If the universe was orbiting around me, there would be planets and stars and giant rocks crashing into each other by the minute. There would be no universe if I was the center.

Pride sucks you into doing and thinking foul things.
As I prepare for my recitals, I cry out for help to the Lord. Frau Evelina keeps coming back telling me that things should be perfect--I should be perfect. It's all about me and nothing else.

That's not true. If I did art for myself, I would not be an artist. Gifts are meant to be shared and given away. I am singing because I am called to sing. He gives me a new song to sing each day. What else can I do but to praise Him and find pleasure in singing His new songs?