May I never be happy.
May I always be discontented with stuff and dreams, with Ikea furniture or Doctor Who or perfume or Chanel or other people's approval or my approval or college or a career or books or writing or publication or Potential or friends or boyfriends or husbands or families or picnics or Paris or chocolate cake.
May success taste stale. Better yet, may I never find that place where gold stars spit from the faucets and glitter rains from the ceiling fans. May I fall off the first rung of the Ladder of Success so I can move on with my life and serve. (Ouch!)
May money seem cheap. May I never be worried when money runs low. May I never be a billionaire, millioniare, thousandaire, hundredaire if money in my pocket gets in the way of the Truth.
May popular beauty - thinness, smoothness, gracefulness - always seem plastic next to the beauty of my Creator. May I never seek it.
May I spread everywhere this discontent that needles and needles until it bursts open true contentment. May I be restless, wandering, lost, screaming when I turn an eye toward anything but my holy magnificent raging tender King of Kings. May I be completely consumed by Jesus, glorifying Him and enjoying Him forever.
May I never be happy again. Instead, let me overflow with the Joy of the Spirit.
Watch at your own risk:
Pray for me. I'm praying for you!