My heart longs to grumble, longs to complain. Until I read Psalms, where the words of oppression jump out of the page, followed quickly by pages of praise to God. It seems so counter-intuitive, so difficult to mimic in my own prayers. So lately, instead of writing my own prayers, I simply read over Psalms, and then write them down, hoping some of the words of praise will eventually become my own.
Our pastor on Sunday mentioned the early disciples in Acts as believers whose belief in Jesus was not determined by circumstance. To put it simply: Jesus was enough for them in any situation they encountered. As I read Psalm 63 this morning, this becomes my prayer.
I’m overwhelmed by God’s faithfulness and his love. Because of his steadfast love and constant pursuit of me, I will praise him this morning for who he is. Often times I spend too much time worrying about how flawed I am, that I forget that he still looks on me with love I can’t even fathom.
Oh God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.
So I have looked upon you in the sanctuary, beholding your power and glory. Because your steadfast love is better than life, my lips will praise you. So I will bless you as long as I live; in your name I will lift up my hands.