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