Lord, I’ve already been talking to You, but help me talk more. And listen. Help me to pour out my complaints to You so they don’t grow into me and stunt me. This is a turning point. I want to grow. But I am hurt.
Why?! Why all these back taxes, complications, time Dad has spent, time we’ll both have to spend? Why did You let me go wrong for 4 years? Why debt?
Why have I been buying underwear at the thrift store, scrimping on groceries, saying no to social events, carpooling, budgeting, making old supplies stretch, eating expired food, tithing extra?
I’m trusting You to be gracious with my complaints. I think I need to see them on paper to remember how easy I’ve got it.
But it hurts to count the dollars every time I drive, to be relieved when I can’t go to an event, to count it a sacrifice to go to prayer meeting. To be afraid of seeming needy and dependent. God, I want to bless my parents. I want to send care packages whenever. I want to buy fresh fruit. I want to take friends out for coffee on their birthdays. I want an easel, and new brushes, and to be able to afford a haircut on occasion. Or to buy a new pair of shoes. I’m ridiculous.
God, I want to go out to the movies sometimes. Or buy a friend’s artwork. Or sponsor someone in a significant way. I want to own a house someday. I don’t want a man to save me. I want You to save me. I don’t want to be rescued out of ineptitude and a victim complex. I want to be strong and mature, to have something to offer. Not to be proud, but to be capable and confident. I’m afraid. I don’t know what I need. And I don’t want to decide for You what You are doing, but I want You to do it, whatever it is, and move in me, however You will, and make me able to trust You and worship You when it would be easier to curse and cry and give up.
Work a miracle here. Don’t let anything (me) get in the way of Your power and glory, of Your redemptive display. Have Your way in me.
Your kingdom come.
I am the Lord’s servant.
May it be to me as You will.