Monday, May 18, 2015 (7:21
a.m.)
Blessed Father,
At this very moment my
thoughts keep turning to growls and self-reproaches. I made a mistake
the other night. Didn't correctly save a prayer I had written out to
You. That, of course, doesn't mean that You don't still know what all
my heart was saying.
Mm, it just speaks to how
often and easily I find things to be upset about. Father, I want to
live joyously. Lovingly. Kindly. Optimistically. It takes a lot of
work. Work I'm still not prepared to do wholeheartedly.
Thank You that You are
available to show and teach and love and forgive. Thank You that
every single time I remember to turn to You, confessing my
powerlessness, I find hope. Power. Strength. Sometimes it's just a
drop. And others? A flood.
Thank You Father. You know
our every need. You are fully aware of our flaws and imperfections. I
don't have to be ashamed or embarrassed by them. I get to confess
them all to You.
2 Corinthians 4:7-9 (Common
English Bible).
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