Dear God, O! I turn too inward. I curl myself around myself. I lick my wounds. I attend to my feelings, I give mind to my emotions. I nurse my grudges. Each step I take through the day, I assess: How do I feel? How do I feel about it? What will I do to improve how I feel?
Lord. Sweep aside the pieces of this trivial game of self-absorption. Wipe clean my day. Leave me quivering, raw, naked facing the storm. Maybe then I might step outside of myself and begin to do your work without all this useless self-monitoring, self-talk, self-thinking.
Lord, you set me before bare ground and hand me a shovel — I sit mulishly rather than start digging. I believe you have ordered a ditch, a task below my station. Yet perhaps you instead are urging me to unearth a treasure. All that stops me is my pride.
Lord. Lord. Rescue me from thinking about myself. Create urgency all around me, that I might wholeheartedly act, rather than sulk and shirk.
Let me be your being today, not myself.