Monday, February 2, 2015

the small and broken prayer

I come to you broken and battered by my heart and my desires and my own pride. I have refused time and time again to surrender everything to you. I have refused to give you my money. I have refused to give you my time. I have refused to give up sleep and energy and material things and priorities. I have been holding back from you. I feel like there is no way out of this pit of sin and struggle, this cycle that seems to have no end. I’ve been searching for approval in this world, in my friends and in strangers I don’t even know—and it’s really hard to believe that you will forgive me after running from you so many times. So. Many. Times.
But I look at Hosea’s wife, Gomer. He never stopped pursuing her. Your forgiveness to Peter after he denied you time after time after time. And you gave him grace, every time. And in your Word it says, “If I confess my sins, you are faithful and just to forgive me and cleanse me from all my unrighteousness.”
I do want everything in my life to speak of your grace and glory. Every moment I have breathing I want to it to be lived for you, you alone.
Forgive me, Jesus, for running. For stubbornly and rebelliously choosing to not come to you. For living as a hypocrite. For singing with my lips only in worship. For giving in during the battle. For not watching my thoughts. For greed and selfishness and anger and impurity in my heart, for gluttony and pride, even saying that I could do this whole life-thing on my own.
I don’t ask for you to give me the ‘feeling’ of forgiveness, the ‘feeling’ of peace or whatever I’ve been waiting for for so long. Just take my sins and put them far from you and far from me so I can move forward in victory and surrender and in obedience.
May all my hopes and dreams and plans and life itself be shaped and molded by you. I can’t do this in my own strength. Make me like your Son, no matter how it will look to this world.
Love from
your daughter

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