Search Me, Lead Me, Keep Me
O Spirit of God,
Help my infirmities;
When I am pressed down with a load of sorrow,
perplexed and knowing not what to do,
slandered and persecuted,
made to feel the weight of the cross,
help me, I pray thee.
If thou seest in me
any wrong thing encouraged,
any evil desire cherished,
any delight that is not thy delight,
any habit that grieves thee,
any nest of sin in my heart,
then grant me the kiss of thy forgiveness,
and teach my feet to walk the way of thy commandments.
Deliver me from carking care,
and make me a happy, holy person;
Help me to walk the separated life with firm and brave step,
and wrestle successfully against weakness;
Teach me to laud, adore, and magnify thee,
with the music of heaven,
And make me a perfume of praiseful gratitude to thee.
I do not crouch at thy feet as a slave before a tyrant,
but exult before thee as a son with a father.
Give me power to live as thy child in all my actions,
and to exercise sonship by conquering self.
Preserve me from the intoxication that comes not from thee.
Lead me safely on to the eternal kingdom, not asking whether the road be rough or smooth.
I request only to see the face of him I love,
to be content with bread to eat, with raiment to put on,
if I can be brought to thy house in peace.
—Henri Nouwen,
The Tears of the Father
This prayer from The Valley of Vision echoes the deep honesty and dependence found in the Psalms—especially Psalm 139, where David pleads, “Search me, O God, and know my heart… lead me in the way everlasting.” Like the psalmist, the writer here lays everything bare before God—sorrow, confusion, hidden sin, deep longing—and asks not for comfort or ease, but for the nearness of God and the strength to walk in His ways. There is no pretense, only the heartfelt cry of someone who knows they are a child of God, longing to live in that identity fully, even through suffering or uncertainty.
If you find yourself today pressed down, confused, or weary, let this prayer guide your own. It isn’t a list of demands, but a surrender of the heart. Read it slowly. Pray it honestly. Let its words shape your own conversation with God. He already sees your heart—and still He invites you near. So come, not as a slave, but as a beloved child, asking only to be led safely home. —DH
—David Hoskins, Founder & Care Guide, Sanctuary Clinics