Sometimes I feel like a kid. I'm tired and then I lose my temper and I get angry at people. Work is overwhelming, so I want to yell at my parents, people around me, the system, whoever is in my way on the way home. I want to blame, blame, blame. My anger prowls for a target.

I'm tired tonight. Not too tired physically, but tired inside. Never thought the tears of teaching would come, not from frustrations with students, but sheer weariness. And, as unreasonable as it is, I want someone to be responsible for the way I feel. I want someone to apologize for how I'm tired and worn and upset.

Yet You draw me to you. You draw me to my knees, draw my heart up, lift my arms in praise. And I realize, though I run after love from man, applause from man or self, rest and comfort and freedom that I design and construct for myself, my heart and my soul truly and only pants for you. I can yell and scream and grasp and fight and complain and hold back, but in the end, I'm just Yours. I don't belong to my work or a person or a cause. Just Yours. Yours to love and use and be worshipped by.

Your grace is enough
I'm covered in Your love

Be exalted again, Abba. Will I draw a line to say, I will only give this much to you? Never! But only by Your grace.

At the altar of the cross, You made a covenant promise to me. And I've said 'I do' to eternity with You. Almost exactly two years ago I said 'I do' to this season of toil. Have I forgotten that one day I will stand before You and be accountable for and rejoice over the fruit of this season?

I know I've let it slip. Lord, tonight, again, 'I do.'