Psalm 73, A Prayer

I’m looking at my right hand.  Nails un-manicured.  A chubbiness from a life time of gluttony.  Life lines that have touched both the good and the bad.  And You hold me.  You hold me with Your hand.  You never let go.  Whether or not I see You or want You or realize my desperate need for You; You are there.  You protect me from myself.  You pull me away from where my heart is going to take me.  You pull me away from the edge.  You hold on so tightly my feet can’t slip off the cliff of despair.  Any beauty I know You have shown me.  Any delight I have comes from walking together.  Any good is only because Your hand is holding mine.  In the end You will be all that I have.  And that is the real truth of today.  I am reaching for false gods of this world: respect, man’s opinion, comfort, my-way.  But why should I want those things when I have You?  Please save me again and again from these tempting deaths.  I am so very weak.  I am so very dirty.  I reach out to them knowing full well that they are temporary and that the pleasure will be quickly over.  I am tempted by their comforting distraction.  And I feel like I can’t help it.  I don’t know how to fix it.  You have to fix it.  You have to hold my hand tighter so that I know it’s there.  You have to distract my eyes so that I am too enamored with You to turn my eyes from You.  You have to be my strength.  You have to be my strength.  You have to be my strength.  You are mine and I am Yours.  Make me Yours.  Make me Yours.  Be mine.  Be mine.


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