“Learn from me, for I (Jesus) am gentle and humble in heart.” Matt. 11:29
Lord Jesus, cutting to the chase—I want to be more like you. I want to be gentle and humble when my first, third, and seventh reaction is often the opposite. To learn from you isn’t me writing things down in a notebook; it’s you writing things into my heart by your grace, Spirit, and time spent with you. So here we go.
Jesus, gentle me when things just don’t work out—when good plans end up in the trash ben. To be disappointed is human; to throw a 30-minute pout-fest is toddler-ish. You never promised to “baptize my plans,” but you have promised to work in all things for my good. You’re not a bit-player in my story; I am a character and carrier of your Story. Hallelujah, and thank you.
Gentle me in this culture of spin, exaggeration, and blatant untruth. Raised blood pressure, hackles, and dander are a sign of caring. But when like Peter I want to pull out my Swiss Army knife and start amputating ears, rebuke me with your kindness, and remind me you’re right here with us in the middle all the mess. You have told us not to fret (Ps.37:1). Today I choose today to obey you.
Jesus, gentle me when I forget names and where I put stuff—when the mirror doesn’t lie and the calendar says I’m closer to heaven than yesterday. To live in denial, vanity, or fear is normal—but I don’t want to settle for normal. To love, trust, and delight in you is to enjoy the freedom of the Gospel, the work of your Spirit, and the power of grace.
Jesus, I want to be more playful, present in relationships, transformed by the Gospel, and hope-saturated —all the way Home. Thank you for friends who make growing older and growing in grace a shared journey, a mutual encouragement-fest, and a life of hope. So Very Amen.
