You say this: “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery. You shall have no other gods before me.”
I do this:
Well, maybe not exactly. I believe in you. And I wouldn’t blow out those candles. But like Frank Underwood I know I’ve essentially prayed “to myself, for myself” on more times than I’d like to admit.
Sometimes my prayers are essentially pep talks. My claims of “giving it over to you” are sometimes mere words, knowing that I’m really going to play god in my own life over the things I so desperately want control.
Forgive me for this. Forgive me for being my own god. For thinking I can handle, do anything–not on your strength–but on my own. Forgive me for telling you I trust you, that I put you first, but so often doing exactly the opposite. For trusting me. For putting me first. Way before you.