Just a soul whose intentions are good...
We were driving across the heartland of Texas chasing our grandson’s baseball games. The sun was shining, we had rolled the windows down, and oldies blared out of the radio. 1965, The Animals, “Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood.” My hand was riding the waves of the wind in time to the beat of a blast from the past.
Something about this time, maybe these circumstances, I really heard the lyrics, particularly the refrain:
“I’m just a soul whose intentions are good
Oh, Lord, please don’t let me be misunderstood.”
The ears, perhaps the soul, of this seasoned, former-bopper identified what my adolescent self could never have heard. This was prayer, pure and simple. Go figure. Had I honestly never listened before or did I need a few decades of life to notice what was being said?
“I’m just a soul whose intentions are good.” Aren’t we all such souls, at least most the time? So often, it seems, even the wrong we do started out as well intentioned. Motives being what they are, most of them are good, or mixed — perhaps not pure, or completely unselfish — but understood as good in - the - moment. We certainly see that in ourselves and want desperately to explain why, what it is we really intended, when things go awry. Extending that same courtesy to another, however, when we feel offended or put upon, well, that is another story. I once had a boss, new to his position, ask me what I needed from him. My answer: “the benefit of the doubt until you come to know me.”
“Oh, Lord, please don’t let me be misunderstood,” is a plea for protection. Ancient mariners prayed for protection from sea monsters. Parents bless their children before they go out the door. Whatever happened, by the way, to St. Christopher medals for the car? Prayers for protection are basic and shared by all. This prayer, however, has nothing to do with physical peril. It is a prayer about relationships, and relationships are perilous indeed.
Rarely do sea monsters rear their ugly heads, but the quagmire that is simply “getting along” is challenging and, even, dangerous these days. In May of 1991, Rodney King famously appealed after the Los Angeles race riots, “can’t we all get along?” That plea remains these 32 years later, in ways both large and small.
We have a sense that we are meant for good, that we mean to do good, even as we recognize in that longing for good, the very real possibility exists that we may fall far short. Between the good we long to do and our own failure to do so, that is where grace resides. It was once voiced by an anxious father of a son tormented by demons, “Lord, I do believe; help my unbelief!” (Mk 9:24). Is there anyone who has not prayed that prayer? I have prayed that prayer.
Where hope and inadequacy meet, that is the crossroad of grace. That is the crossroad to which the father brought his son. When Jesus commanded the demon to leave, there was a dramatic seizure, collapse, and silence and then a simple gesture. “Jesus took him by the hand and raised him; and he got up” (Mk 9:27).
The healing is followed by a postscript: “When he came into the house, his disciples began questioning him privately, ‘Why could we not drive it out?’ And he said to them, ‘This kind cannot come out by anything but prayer.’” (Mk 9:28-29).
When next we find ourselves at that crossroad, the one where our own best efforts fail yet our need compels us to hope, this might be another of those times when only prayer will do. I suggest that either of these might be adequate:
- “Lord, I do believe; help my unbelief,” - Mark, c. 30 A.D.
- “I’m just a soul whose intentions are good; O, Lord, please don’t let me be misunderstood,” – The Animals, 1965.
SUMMER LEISURE
Summer leisure, for me, evokes the memory of a time in childhood when, after lunch while my little brother and sisters went down for naps, my mother would spread a sheet on the grass and we "big kids" would sprawl in the shade of a maple tree with a pile of books. Smart mom. She knew the value of cool-down time after a morning of chasing, climbing, skipping until the hair stuck to our foreheads, wet with sweat. Smart mom. The little ones quietly slept and the big ones quietly read. Perhaps she rested or read as well. More likely she "got something done." Smart mom. She or Dad took us every Saturday morning to the library to come home with armloads full of books
What is your summer leisure--back when, right now? As part of my summer leisure, I am offering a sample in each newsletter of a poem, phrase, or prayer that has inspired me in my recent reading. But what about you? What is summer leisure for you? Would love to hear.
HOW WONDERFUL, O LORD
A Jewish Prayer
How wonderful, O Lord, are the works of your hands!
The heavens declare your glory, the arch of the sky displays your handiwork. In your love you have given us the power to behold the beauty of your world in all its splendor.
The sun and the stars, the valleys and the hills, the rivers and the lakes, all disclose your presence. The roaring breakers of the sea tell of your awesome might; the beasts of the field and the birds of the air proclaim your wondrous will. In your goodness you have made us able to hear the music of the world.
The voices of loved ones reveal to us that you are in our midst. A divine song sings through all creation.
THE RHYTHM OF LIFE: Celtic Daily Prayer, by David Adam
