A Prayer of Repentance

Jesus,

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I’ve treated you like a consolation prize. 

I’m sorry that I’ve decided to run the race, but settled for the fact that all I expect to win is a participation ribbon. I’ve look at the gifts you’ve created and given, and I think they are better than you. I’ve let my contentment waiver because of lies I chose to believe. And then I blame you when I feel lackluster instead of joyful. 

I’m sorry I talk to eight other people about how lonely I am before I talk to you. I thought they would offer me more comfort than your presence could. It’s become a pattern that I would rather you give me someone to be with than for you to be with me. 

I’m sorry that I’m quicker to shake off the compliments you give me than the lies the enemy taunts me with. I mock your job description and rewrite mine. I’ve become the author of truth when it comes to what I think about my faults, my looks, and my mistakes. And nothing you say seems to change the judgement I’ve handed myself. 

I’m sorry I’m like the girl who vents to the guy that’s in love with her about how awful the guys she dates are. I chase after lovers far less wild and blame you when they don’t satisfy my soul.

I’m sorry that I think you’re holding out on me. I compete with no one and everyone and anyone for your favor. I look to the blessings you’ve given someone else and think that it’s a sign of your lack of love for me. It seems like all I’ve done lately is complain, whine, and ask for things. And then as soon I ask for those things, I tell myself you don’t care enough to give me those things anyways. 

I’m sorry that I’ve been too busy, reluctant, bored, and tired to be with you. I would rather watch Netflix than talk to you because you feel like work, and a bed seems like the only place I can get real rest. I haven’t been excited about you, romanced by you, or fallen for you in awhile. And that’s beginning to seem like your fault instead of mine. 

I’m sorry that I hurt you without realizing just how tender your heart is towards me. Sometimes I have a really good view of you as my King, but when it comes to me as your bride? Now that’s a bit harder to grasp. I didn’t realize that what hurts your love hurts you. I’ve believed a cheap lie from our enemy, and it’s hurting your heart and rotting mine. I’m sorry that I’ve been distracted, distant, reserved, insecure, and selfish.

I’m sorry that I’ve only been thinking about one person in this relationship, and it wasn’t you.