From Elyse Fitzgerald's "Comforts from the Cross":
I'll admit that your love both bores and frightens me. I mistakenly think that I understand it, so I skim over it as if it were yesterday's headlines. But sometimes it breaks through and I begin to see what it's really like and I'm terrified. So I run from you. I numb my soul to its influences through futile amusements and self-assuring good deeds.
I rarely start my day with the thought, "My Father, who art in heaven." Please forgive me for this and for neglecting what your adoption of me really means. I've taken this truth for granted and resisted your Fatherly intrusion into my life because I haven't trusted the goodness of your love.
Please open my eyes and grant grace to see you, your love, the security of my place in you, and the inevitablility of my complete transformation, and then give me grace to draw near to you for strength to war against our enemies.