Sometimes I sit up late at night obsessing. Running one bad tape over and over again in my mind. It doesn't help anything to go over this same ground; to keep replaying a mistake, or a bunch of mistakes. It doesn't help anything to keep worrying over the same fears, the same inadequacies, the same injuries, like a child who keeps poking at a bruise to see how much it hurts. Sometimes I think these bad mental cassette tapes are the exact opposite of prayer, the ultimate in fruitless labor.
Jesus, please guard my mind with your peace. Help me fix my thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Things that are excellent and worthy of praise.
And help me ditch those awful, worn-out, peace-thieving cassettes.
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