God, my soul is tired. Sometimes I feel like I’m giving, and giving, and giving, until I’m empty and there’s no one to fill me up. There’s no one to reach out to me, to pour their love into my tired hands, to lift my aching spirit.
Sometimes I feel like I care too much. Like I chase the wrong things. Like I let people take advantage of me because I’m not strong enough to turn away. I feel like I don’t know when to stop, when to walk away, when to let life happen as it’s meant to—out of my control.
Sometimes I feel like I’m trying, so hard, to do everything right, to make sense of what happens, to be a good person, but ultimately, I end up broken and tired. And then my faith starts to shake. And then, suddenly, I can’t remember who I am anymore, or what you want from me.
And I don’t want to live like that anymore.
I don’t want to spend my days agonizing over what I can’t control. I don’t want to lay awake at night wondering about the ‘could-haves,’ ‘should-haves.’ I don’t want to wish away what’s right in front of me, searching for something else. I don’t want to give myself to someone, only to be left with nothing.
I don’t want to feel so defeated, so purposeless, so lost.
God, I want to feel your presence, because honestly, I know that you’re here. I know that your warmth is shining down on me, that your light is guiding my path. I know that each step I take is guided by you. I know that you’re with me and I don’t have to fear.
But sometimes I get so caught up in the ways of the world. I count my own strength as everything, and forget that I’m imperfect and I need you.
I get so focused on my selfishness, on what I think I deserve, on what I don’t yet have, so much so, that I forget all the blessings you’ve given me. I forget who you’ve been in my life, how you’ve never left my side, how you are my almighty God, and nothing will ever change that.
Sometimes I try so hard to have everything fall according to my plan that I forget you have, and always had, a better one for me.
So, God, I’m surrendering to you. I’m letting go of all the things I cannot change, of all the fear and indecision, of all the anxiety and confusion and frustration and bitterness I’ve carried for so long. I’m dropping the weight. I’m walking away.
I’m handing you all of my burdens and trusting that you are my all powerful God, who will never let me fight the battles of this life alone.
God, I’m going to let your will be done. I’m going to let you carve my path, my story, in whatever direction you see fit. I’m going to stop relying on my own strength to pull me through. I’m going to stop trying to control everything that happens to me, and around me. I’m going to stop wishing for something else, something better, while losing sight of who I’ve become as your child.
I’m going to let you do your work, write your story, construct your plan. And instead of resisting, I’m going to surrender to you.
Because you know, far better, where I’m headed in this world. You know the life you want for me, the purpose I will fulfill for your glory. You know the love I will one day find, the wealth of affection I will received in return from being someone who cares too much, the happiness I will discover when I stop worrying about what everyone else thinks and celebrate the simple fact that I was made in your image. And you love me, no matter what.
Instead of trying to manipulate the world, instead of trying to understand what’s happening and why, instead of stressing over all the things that I cannot fix, cannot save, cannot make sense of, I’m going to let your will be done.
I’m going to remember this verse, your promise:
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
— Jeremiah 29:11
I’m going to let you guide me, heal me, build me. I’m going to trust that you are with me, and I have nothing to fear. And I’m going to start, right now, in this prayer to you.