Lord, sometimes I come tired. Weary. Broken.
I’m pretty messy. Loud. Overbearing. Prideful.
I don’t bend easily, and I don’t easily let people in.
I try, really I do, to be better. More kind. More thoughtful. More loving. Love covers a multitude of sins, you said.
But, Lord, it doesn’t always “work.” Or happen, maybe I should say. Though try as I might, that same nature, that human side of me, sneaks through. Or out. Or becomes very visible.
Oh, how I am so glad that you are not shaken. You do not gasp and look the other way. You do not deny me the pleasure of your kindness, your comfort, your grace. You do not look down at me or give me a side glance of disapproval.
You look right at me. In my eyes. Oh, and your eyes are so loving. So caring. So beautiful.
Lord, thank you. Thank you for not being shaken. For not moving. For looking me right in the eye and loving me anyway. May I acknowledge this great lovingkindness for all of my days.