Father, this morning I am thankful, utterly thankful, that
you allow me to enter your Presence. The words enter his gates with thanksgiving, enter his courts with praise are
far more than words to me.
I think about the enormity and density of coming into your
Presence—of me a simultaneous sinner and saint—and I am silently overwhelmed.
Father, for so long I searched and looked to find something
good and something real. I looked to find something far greater than myself. But
I did not find something. No, you found me. I did not find you. You found me.
Lost and meandering. Directionless and clueless. Empty and starving.
You found me.
I consider all the times I have failed, all the times that
surely I must have disappointed, the many ways I could have chosen you and I
didn’t.
I grieve the years I squandered and wasted. I regret all the
times I judged others even though you showed me great mercy. I rue the times
when I viewed someone else’s perspective less valuable than my own. I lament
the times when I saw someone angry and reacted in like manner. I sorrow for
being like the priest and Levite and walking on by the wounded, fearing to get
my own hands dirty.
But today, this day, I am thankful because you didn’t
dismiss me from your Presence. No, you did the opposite. You said, Come into my Presence and I will enable you
to make good choices. I will lead you to what will prosper you. I will give you
the strength to do things differently. I will change the heart of stone in you;
I will make it tender. I will make it flesh.
And this sweetness of You drew me.
Praise you for your goodness to me. Thank you for your
faithfulness that knows no end. Thank you for your patience with and for me. Thank
you for your long-suffering toward me. Thank you for your love—the depth, the
width, the height and the length of it—because you extend it to me daily. And I am rich.
Thank you.
Amen
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