I walk in your shadow, Lord, grateful to be as close as that to you. When I see you go in another direction, I try to stay with you. When I do not notice, you turn back, look for me, and return to yourself. I walk in the shadow of your wings and you lift me up and let me soar with you.  Oh, glorious moments when my soul flies with yours. Someday…yes, someday…you will fling open the gates of heaven and we will be together forever. Great God, you are my soul.

Sometimes, Lord, I attack sin ruthlessly and, in the process, attack the sinner. Help me know where the fine line is so I do not run off someone who is thinking of changing. Help them understand it is not them I hate.

The cross.  Oh, the cross you suffered on and died on. The cross made of wood. From it your soul cried out to the world, “Come to me. I look weak, but I am attacking Satan for you and I will win!”  And so, I crawl to your cross, dare to look up, then touch your bloody feet. The feet that once walked the earth, the feet that once walked on water, the feet that walked out of a death cave. How can I thank you? It is so far above my ability. I will spend eternity trying to find new ways to exalt you.