Dear Lord, excuse my cowboy boots, my Wranglers and my cap.
I'm praying on my way to work, for I'm a working chap
I didn't go to college, I'm just a common man.
You ,too, were a carpenter, Lord, so I know you understand.
My hands are calloused, my voice is loud, my clothes are not first rate.
Will you be checking labels, Lord, when I enter Heaven's gate?
My truck is old and people laugh, from their shiny cars and vans.
Did they often laugh at you, Dear Lord, as you walked throughout the land?
Please help me not to worry, Lord, o'er my lack of worldly gain.
I'll be as rich as all the rest when I reach Heaven's plain.
I'll trade my jeans and cowboy boots for wings and a robe of white.
I'll leave my cap and put on a crown, Oh, what a welcome sight!
Work time is almost here, but I've surely time to pray,
Just help me, Lord, to be content with what I have today. Amen
Billye Phillips Beck
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/working-man-s-prayer/
