Thank you, Lord, for giving me my survival knife.
It’s one of my most prized possessions. Sometimes, life can be so distracting, and it’s easy for me to lose perspective about what is really important. When this happens I know it’s time to hit the woods – just me and my knife. There’s nothing like some “knife-time” in the wild to help me gain perspective. After all, it’s in the woods that I feel most connected. It seems I have to “unplug” to “plug in.” My knife helps remind me of how simple life can be. With this knife I can meet my most basic survival needs. I think that’s pretty cool.
I consider my knife a friend. We’ve developed a unique relationship over the years. I take care of it, and it returns the favor. In fact, I’ve learned a lot about myself through using my knife. Today, I ask that you help me to be like my trusted friend.
My knife was designed specifically as a survival knife. It’s not a filet knife or a throwing knife or a shaving knife. I get frustrated when I try to use it for tasks for which it wasn’t designed. I am not much different from my knife in that respect. You have designed me for a specific purpose in this crazy world. Help me to stay on task and find that purpose. You of all people know how many times I’ve tried to do things for which I wasn’t designed. I know I’m stubborn. Maybe You could give me some trail markers so it’s easier for me to find my way along a path that sometimes seems so overgrown. Help me find exactly what I’m designed to do in this world.
My knife doesn’t mind hard work. I don’t baby my knife. I expect it to work hard when I need it to perform in the woods. Oftentimes, the only solution is very hard work. As hard as I’ve used it over the years, my knife has never failed me nor taken the easy way out. Help me to work as hard as my knife. I am thankful for the ability to work hard, and I want You to know that I am willing to do the work required of me. I don’t want to let You or anyone else down. Don’t baby me. You may have to baton me through this harsh world at times, but I won’t break. I want to and am not afraid to work hard.
I know the importance of taking good care of my knife. I know that when I do things like digging and prying, that I can dull and damage the blade. The blade will also corrode, discolor and become pitted if I leave it exposed to moisture and harsh chemicals. But when I polish the metal with oil and sharpen the blade with a wet stone, my knife is renewed. Similarly, Lord, help me to surround myself with people who polish and sharpen me. Give me the wisdom and strength to eliminate the people and habits from my life that may corrode, dull and tarnish my potential.
My knife is simple, Lord, and I like that. I’ve used a lot of different survival knifes over the years, and I’ve learned that it’s not the quantity of features that’s important. How you use a knife is far more important than any of the knife’s physical features. My knife is simple, but in skillful hands it can be extremely effective. Even though I’m simple, Lord, help me to be effective. Help me to skillfully apply myself and learn from my mistakes so that I can live a more effective and impactful life.
Lastly, Lord, at the end of my days I hope to pass my knife down to someone else who can use it in their wilderness adventures. If the world stays on its current path, someone will surely need it. It’s a good knife, and I’d like to see it provide basic needs for someone else after I am long gone. Like my knife, I want to create something worthy of passing down. Help me to live a life that will matter after I am gone from this world. Help me to design a life worthy of a legacy that outlives my short time on Earth. Help me to do things with my life that will have lasting value.
Help me, Lord, to be like my knife.