In the moment when I am nearly blinded by self pity, come to me in compassion, but be ruthless. In Your perfect loyalty to who I really am, show me Your face.
Whether by tender kisses or by tender discipline, whatever might best shape true change, align me. You are good, and fierce and gentle. Better one moment in Your righteous storm than a hundred wasted days languishing in cowardice. I am not afraid of You. I fear only that MY foolishness delay You.
I call for the storm of my Father–my perfect Lion with breath that is fire. My humanity is the perfect palette for You.
