The author of the thoughts that follow is identified only by her vocation and the century in which she practiced her commitment to God. She may have been part of a community of “sisters” espousing vows of poverty, obedience, and chastity while devoting themselves to serving others. Or she may have chosen the path of an ascetic consecrating herself to a life of prayer and contemplation isolated from the public.
I discovered this prayer on the end-page of the program memorializing and celebrating the 103-year life of a beloved wife, sibling, mother, mother-in-law, grandmother, great-grandmother, and friend. I met her twice, and over the years heard many stories about her—all of which suggested this would not only be her prayer but a way of being into which she lived fully.
Not only is this a petition for divine intercession, it is also a request for assistance in the practice of solid psychological principles, and common sense.
This is an entreaty that has spiritual, psychological, and common sense value for me as I segue into my seventieth year. It would have been poignant for the younger man I was who believed he had all the answers—not just decades ago, but yesterday as well!
17th Century Nun’s Prayer
Lord, thou knowest better than I know myself that I am growing older and will someday be old. Keep me from the fatal habit of thinking I must say something on every subject and on every occasion. Release me from craving to straighten out everybody’s affairs. Make me thoughtful but not moody, helpful but not bossy. With my vast stores of wisdom, it seems a pity not to use it all, but thou knowest Lord that I want a few friends at the end.
Keep my mind free from the recital of endless details; give me wings to get to the point. Seal my lips on my aches and pains. They are increasing, and love of rehearsing them is becoming sweeter as the years go by. I dare not ask for grace enough to enjoy the tales of other’s pains, but help me endure them with patience.
I dare not ask for improved memory, but for a growing humility and a lessening cocksureness when my memory seems to clash with the memories of others. Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally I may be mistaken. Keep me reasonably sweet; I do not want to be a Saint (some of them are so hard to live with), but a sour old person is one of the crowning works of the devil. Give me the ability to see good things in unexpected places, and talents in unexpected people. And, give me, O Lord, the grace to tell them so. AMEN.
–Anonymous
by 
Such a wise request. Thank you for sharing this…a must read every day for me.
Indeed, we can all pray for such humble humility as we grow older, and hope to be wiser and kinder in the process. Those of us who have had the good fortune to reach our 7th decade can be grateful, and curious about how to best live fully into our remaining years. Can you imagine living beyond 100 years, as more of us do each year? I love the image of having the wings to get to the point, and the intent to be helpful, rather than bossy, both issues with which I struggle! Thanks, as always,for your thoughtful sharing about our
human condition. Write on, mon ami.
This is a marvelous post, Roger. I have already emailed copies of the artwork and nun poem out to friends. Thank you. Love them both. The poem just nails it, doesn’t it? The new version of what we used to be is here. Thank you for your honest and thoughtful words, always inspiring, provoking more thoughts! Carry on, my brother.