No, thanks.

Please don’t pray for me.

If you talk to me about Jesus, but when you have the opportunity to be kind you are hard, don’t pray for me.

If you make a show of your praise and worship in church, but in our times you are venomous, even when prompted by love, don’t pray for me. 

When I try to explain myself, if you talk over me and ridicule and mimic me for effect, don’t pray for me.

Don’t flower me with quotes from scripture, don’t defend yourself with apologies after the fact - time and time again; apology does not right your disrespect. Don’t say to one what you insist I have no right to say to anyone; I hear you. Hear me: don’t pray for me.

Spend your energies seeking your own peace. Don’t usurp the power of the Creator with your judgements, this only serves to harm you, to poison your heart.

If, alone, you cannot find the way to curb your spite, seek help, seek real help, not the false joy that comes from arms outstretched to a heaven that cannot receive you for the mean in your spirit, the dark in your thoughts. Choose wisely your words, they stain.

But whatever the case, I cannot receive your good wishes, I don’t believe them, and don’t want them lest they make me sick with whatever it is ails you. I remain at rest in the hope that more than prayer will imply itself in each of our hearts, for our own sakes and for the good of those we love.

In the meantime, please don’t pray for me.