Father, Dad, Creator, Guy Who Knows What’s Going On Here,
I give you the messy sea of who I am. I give you my tangled desires, my unwanted wants.
I give you my needs and my neediness. I give you my soul and my spirit. Whatever those are, the essence of me, whatever that might be.
I give you this beating heart. It’s led me wrong before. I give you analytical mind; it’s a crazy loop of best guesses and what-ifs.
Lord, you made me. You know what’s going all here.
Dear Heavenly Father, maker of the stars. I give you my sleepy eyes. My they see you, for they are starved otherwise.
My bare feet feel the fake carpet.
Jesus take my all, take all of who I am. It occurs to me that maybe there are people who ask this from a place of surrender. Of a kind of spiritual, die-to-yourself nirvana. Asking for it because they’re holy and they’ve got it all put together. I ask because I don’t have it all put together, because everything’s falling apart. Not dramatically, but in slow motion, like a house in an Andrei Tarkovsky film.
I ask it for purely selfish reasons. I’ve had this soul long enough and really don’t want it anymore. I trust you. You’re strong. And I thank you for taking me into your hands.
Thank you. And Love,