Dear God, some mornings, I cannot even place into words my longing for your help. I am so needy. The difficulties I face feel insurmountable, I can do little more than utter “God, help me.” A whimper.
In darkness, your light shines back to me. It lights the corners of my life and these nameless difficulties vanish. They are phantasms. Illusion.
Why, Lord, do I concoct such a false world? I am beset by monsters, or I am ruler of my domain, or I am the worst in the world and deserving of condemnation. All these scenarios are fantasies that grip my thinking so tightly that they are my reality. All false.
Lord, let me please see the real world. Stay with me, chase away the illusions. Let me learn better to act without drama, serve without complaint, wait without impatience.
God, help me.