Father, today is a fight for joy. I think technically everyday should be, but today that truth is hitting me hard.
It's hard to get up and go to work everyday and battle with discontent and doubt that this isn't the "right" thing for me to be doing. It's hard to look at my mom as she's quietly suffering through the confusing maze of a horrible disease. It's hard to constantly stand in front of a door and wait for you to make the next step clear. It's hard to look at stuff like this and say, Jesus you are glorious!
Father, I feel like I've been standing in front of this door for hours, days, weeks, months, years. I've memorized the angles, I've devoured every little detail. I'm familiar with the worn handle that's been rattled and scraped by various sizes of keys. I am well aware of the scuff marks near the ground where anger won the argument. In some lights this door seems like a blessing and a gift. Sometimes this door points directly to your sovereignty and it can show me countless promises you have faithfully answered.
But Jesus some days this door seems like a obstacle. It seems like something that I need to overcome and obliterate. Too often it's a hassle and it annoys me, it depresses me and makes me look inwards and forget to look at you.
Jesus apart from you freeing my heart to rest in you, I will continue in my sin and fail to see my Glorious King that died for all of my sin and all of my unbelief. Jesus, you died to save my soul and now you reign over every part of my emotions and day. God has ordained every door that I encounter. Father make my heart quicker to see you. Help me resign from my throne of doubt quicker, help me stay at the feet of the cross, enable me to never feel like I can move from there.