“Have you a minute, Lord?”

One of the highlights from last week came at a local fundraiser. In amongst the violin pieces, humourous sketches and virtuoso performances was a little gem. A reading from David Kossof’s ‘Have you a minute Lord?’ series. I must confess I hadn’t heard any of his monologues before but the reader had chosen one of the more humourous ones. In it, Kossof wrestles with his fear of the dentist in the form of a prayer to God, asking for help.

Having done a very little research it occurred to me to try my hand at a similar style of writing. So here, with a grateful, admiring nod to David Kossof, is: ‘A Cyclists Prayer.’

“So I’m setting off now Lord.

It’s been a while since I was last on this bike. The saddle seems very hard Lord and my legs are aching just at the thought of that hill outside my house.

I’ve got all my armour on Lord, including my helmet; plus a gel saddle, some warm gloves, a fluorescent jacket…and some vaseline for the chaffing…but I thought I’d ask for your help – to keep me safe too Lord.

And give strength to my bones so that I can at least finish the journey. Hopefully with enough breath left to praise you for my survival.

It’s a busy world out there Lord. I hope you’ll go before me – at a good distance please – so I won’t have to brake too suddenly. Help me to enjoy the journey too though Lord.

Be in my pumping heart and my soul and my understanding, but especially be in my peripheral vision.

I don’t know if angels ride bicycles Lord but it would be nice if you could spare one or two to sit beside me. I wouldn’t ask them to push me up the hill Lord, I know that’s my part of the bargain, but if they could just keep a look out for me?

Oh, and speaking of looking out Lrd, you will help me find my way, won’t you? You know how I hate getting lost. Open my eyes to the signs around me. Let me not ignore the ones I need to see. (Especially the stop signs.) I hope they’re really clear Lord, because you know how sometimes I’m past them before I can read them. Or before I have a cahnce to do anything about what they say. Like change direction. Not without falling off.

Oh, I do hope I won’t fall off Lord. Let me not put you to the test by wobbling about all over the road. Let me go straight.

…I’m just listening to that traffic Lord. They sound like roaring lions as they go past. And I’m no Daniel Lord. Let me not be afraid. But, Lord, if possible, let the lions be friendly ones. Bless them Lord. Keep them from being late, or in a hurry, or angry. Keep them from impatience.

Let them not have had too much wine Lord! Or be sleeping a the wheel! I pray for each one Lord, that each driver may know your abundant peace.

May they have woken this morning with joy in their heart. May they have allowed plenty of time for their journey Lord – including allowing extra time to crawl along in first gear, up a steep hill with no passing place, behind a wobbly, struggling cyclist, with no way to manouvere or pass by, getting ever slower and slower as they reach the top.

Oh, and Lord, bless each one with 20:20 vision. Let the blind see! And as for the lame, well…let them walk instead Lord. It’s probably best.

Right. I’m here by the road now Lord. If you choose Lord, this could be the moment when I meet you face to face. But I hope not Lord. I hope you’ll spare me for at least another fifteen minutes or so. At least until I’m home again.

I don’t suppose you had these worries riding on a donkey, Lord. I don’t suppose they wobble too much, or go too fast. Or have trouble stopping for that matter Lord. A gel saddle might come in handy though…on a donkey.

Right. Foot on the pedal. But I suppose I should be grateful I’m not riding a chariot of fire Lord. I don’t suppose a helmet would do you much good if you came off one of those.

So. Off I go Lord. Bless me with sfety Lord, but most of all I thikn, bless those around me with good eyes and good brakes.

And kindness…

And longsuffering…

And…Well, you know all that Lord. I hope your hand is there to steady me. May I return down that hill in triumph – or, at least, still on my bike.


(C) Seex Dyer 2012


About Stuart Dyer

Stuart Dyer, Christian Writer and Musician living in West Sussex, England. Works in the hope of producing the worthy novel or solo; giggles at Oliver Hardy, Peter Sellers and Spike Jones; admires Hudson Taylor, Dickens, Salinger, Bill Bailey and Neil Peart; listens from Wagner to Miles with lots of stops in between; dances to motown and aims to achieve balance in all things.
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3 Responses to “Have you a minute, Lord?”

  1. Paul Diss says:

    Nice one, I fondly remember (or at least I think I do) David Kossof’s writings and his reading of them. Your Cyclist’s Prayer catches his relationship with his god just right.


    • Seex Dyer says:

      Hi Paul, thanks for that. Good to hear me someone who remembers David Kossof. He is new to me, but am enjoying his stuff. Apologies for spoilmg mistakes!


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