Father, Lord Jesus, hallowed be your name. I sit in my fury. Before you. Silent. Is there anything I feel that you have not felt? Anything enraging that has not enraged you? My heat melts aside. You are God and I am not. I worship you.
Father, Lord Jesus, hallowed be your name. Thank you for legs that still move. For a heart that still pumps. That organs still function. For a brain that still thinks. I worship you. I walk with you.
What calls you to worship? What keeps you worshiping, walking, with the Lord?