Jesus, today I kept Psalm 100 in mind as I committed to do in this morning's prayer. I tried to make a joyful noise, and serve with gladness. I came before your presence with singing. I gave thanks and praise to you in my own inadequate ways. I thought, too, of your charge from Friday, and even at this late hour I'm listening to scripture verses about joy from something someone put together on YouTube.
But I seemed more stuck in resentment and self-pity. Comparing my insides to the outsides of others is always a losing battle, and a couple of times today my rage overflowed and I cursed you for the thorns of addictions that have taken everything worthwhile in life away from me. I watched some young people at the pool laughing and enjoying their time with each other, while also just innocently having a drink - a drink that wouldn't wind up leading them to the hospital, or to being arrested, or make them lose a job.
Or lose a family.
I see FB friends sitting around a table at a bar. I see others with large, intact families spending time together, taking vacations, finding well-earned rest, relishing the events of the season, all the while sharing the same stage of life with me ... but revealing a life I doubt I'll ever know.
Sober and angry - sober and self-pitying - these are dangerous combinations, and they usually lead only one place. Today I didn't go there. And I don't intend to go there tomorrow either.
I am grateful for what I have. And I have a lot. But I'll stop here. Too much transparency in today's closing prayer. You know it all anyway; I guess maybe tonight I just needed to know it, too. I'll do my homeless volunteer work in the morning, and try to reach out and encourage others. I'll look for opportunities to give, and share, and love.
And I'll force a smile.
Funny - the scripture recording just offered, "Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and uphold me with your spirit." That's my prayer tonight.
That's my prayer.
Amen.
