God, please silence my erring tongue so that it can be used to do only your will and speak of love and grace.
Please keep me from reminding my fellow-man of his faults and foibles that I should not cast judgement without looking in the mirror.
Please remind me that comparing certain fellow workmates to certain species of invertebrates is not in course with your wishes.
Nor should I remind them that there are certain strains of yet undiscovered tree fungus that have more common sense than those who share my cube farm.
Please guide me to reach out with a gentle touch instead of the warranted 2 by 4 to the head.
Help me to pray for those in need of guidance in that they may avoid the wrath of a high-speed drill applied to their inner ear.
It is in your name that I seek the patience required to endure their badgering and monosyllabic babbling that is supposed to represent intelligent human speech.
At the end of the day, I ask your blessing on this flock, your servants, that they safely find their way home to their pastures, to their grasslands overrun with berserk wheat threshers.
Thy will, not mine, be done.