I see my name in the promises to Abraham

Lord, I woke up with joy. Thank you. You are turning my world upside down. Thank you for another day to be alive, another day to be yours, another day closer to eternity. You give meaning to existence, to this whole world, to my small life. Without you, there is nothing. Yes, your goodness is such that, you could crush me, and it would be good. But you do not crush me, only press, and one day I will behold your glory, I will even witness it in myself, as I become who you made me to be, in the image of yourself. One day your glory, your love, you will captivate me completely, and I no longer to labor against my sin, like gravity. And why? But because of your glorious love, of course, and nothing less. You do not wink away sin, allowing my foolishness to reign, in gentleness you remind me, this world is not my home, this body is temporary, and your love, life in you, is better far than anything I could grasp with my own hands. Everything made by you and exhibits your glory. But when I seek goodness apart from you, even what you made turns to dust and ashes, meaningless, empty. And when I seek you, when I seek you, there is joy even in the waiting.

I would say that I hate this world, because in it I so easily lose sight of you. But really, it is my sin, like cataracts, clouding out truth, narrowing my vision. So when I run, I grow weary, I must advance my own cause and defend my own honor. I am so often immobilized by the competing impulses for comfort and glory.

Now that is a curious thing, yet it makes perfect sense. You, my Lord, are weird and clever, a paradox, and the only one who can satisfy these otherwise competing desires. I long for comfort and pleasure, in you I find rest and joy. I long for glory and significance, and you make me part of your great story, oh ancient of days, I see my name in the promises to Abraham. My only hope for fulfilling any longing is to lose them entirely in longing for you.