Lord, please temper my competitive juices just a little bit. (Okay, a lot.) It’s fun to win and to be the best at this thing or that, but I’ve got more Olympic drive in me than is healthy. I know that I look around with a scorecard in my brain much more than I ought.
I can’t help it – it bugs me when Dan gets accolades for his career achievements, and I work more in the shadows. Last Christmas, as new arrivals here in the neighborhood, I strung up our holiday lights, and then was stung and bedazzled by the high-energy Las Vegas-y displays on all sides of our paltry little sideshow. Please forgive me for temporarily hating all my neighbors.
Father, I know that I need to simply take satisfaction in doing my own best, and also in being your treasured child. There will always be people with more glamorous electric bills than we incur and who get more headlines. Please give me a sense of contentment with the fact that I’m occupying a good corner of your garden and helping thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.