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Learning to Pray

My Father,

I confess that I turn to your word to find ammunition rather than turning to your word to find you. I confess that I see the world's need for you more than I see my own. I confess that I have lips that desire to speak of you more than a heart that desires to draw near to you. I confess that I have chosen every trinket this world can offer over an eternity of riches that you would lavish upon me.

Help this believer's unbelief. Drive from me my double-minded nature. Give me grace and may I never yearn for fool's gold again.



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