Today, I prayed. I thanked God for Who He Is, and I lifted up those who are sick or needy. I thanked Him for my family and friends, for the freedom to worship without fear, for His faithfulness in providing food and shelter and comforts. I asked Him for wisdom to guide me through the new week; that I would say and do things to bring Him honor and glory.
It was a nice prayer. A safe prayer.
I didn’t cry out my unworthiness, nor did I boldly rejoice in His Holiness, laid over me by His son’s blood. I didn’t plead with Him on behalf of the lost and suffering. I didn’t rage at the continued injustice and evil I see around me. I didn’t spend precious hours listening as He whispered assurances to my soul. I didn’t worship in the splendor of His Lovingkindness.
I got up from prayer, feeling mildly better– I had done my duty. I had spoken with God…or spoken AT Him…I left feeling unchanged.
I sat down to write this blog on prayer. God forgive me for thinking I have more to say to an unseen readership than to You, my Creator!
Forgive me.
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