An Open Letter (Prayer) to God

I’m sharing this not to highlight myself, but to invite others into weakness with me. This is a prayer I wrote during a quiet moment of wrestling with joy, fear, and control. My motives aren’t pure—I know that. They never can be this side of glorification. But I’m asking the Lord to sanctify them. If this resonates, don’t look at me—look to Christ with me. He’s the only one worthy of attention. May this glorify Him alone.

Gracious and most precious Father,

I don’t want to use words just to fill a page—or prayer just to fill time.

I need You, Lord. I always need You. And I want communion with You that’s honest, not performative. Real, not rehearsed.

Lately, I’ve noticed something unsettling: my joy rises and falls too easily. And it’s not just about mood swings. It’s about anchoring. My heart’s anchoring.

The pattern is simple, but revealing: when life feels stable or when I can think through my fears logically, I feel better. But when uncertainty creeps in—especially around health or things I can’t control—my peace crumbles. That tells me something crucial: my joy is tied to something it shouldn’t be. It’s tied to control, or at least the illusion of it. It’s tied to my own understanding.

The truth is, I often try to talk myself into peace. I rely on rational thought to calm my anxiety, especially when I can’t sense God’s nearness. And that’s not all bad. Reason is a gift from God. But reason doesn’t hold me when the waves come. It doesn’t carry me when my flesh takes over.

And that’s just it—my flesh does take over. It tries to self-manage and self-soothe with mental pep talks. But in those moments, I’m leaning on something other than Christ. I’m looking for peace in arguments instead of in a Person.

At the root of it, my emotions are tossed because they’re not anchored in Him. Not really.

So Lord, I’m asking: As I open Your Word, speak. Don’t just inform me—transform me. Help me believe that Your words are living and active. Help me receive them as truth that transforms—not just truths that impress my mind, but truths that steady my soul and fill my heart.

Let my peace come not from the moments I talk myself down, but from the moments I’m with You. Teach me not just to reason about hope, but to rest in You as my living hope.

The space between anxious thoughts doesn’t need to be a void waiting to be filled by the next wave. It can be filled by You. It must be.

So I’m asking, Lord—today, teach me wonderful things from Your law (Ps. 119:18). Not just things to know, but things to live. Show me who You are. Show me again who I am in You.

I want joy that doesn’t rise and fall—because it’s found in the One who never changes.

By the power of the Holy Spirit and in the name of Jesus Christ, I ask these things.

Your servant and beloved child,

Amen