Forgive me, Father,
when so often I think of my work as a curse –
the interruptions of telephones,
callers
and urgent orders;
the frustration of unanswered letters or machine breakdowns;
the monotony of routine
and repetitive duties.
Forgive me, Father, but that’s the way I feel.

Absenteeism is up;
quality is down;
production is slow;
materials are delayed –
and it’s Monday morning!
Lord God, you must know more about frustrations than I do,
so I believe you understand my feelings now.
Thank you for standing with me.
Amen.