Lord God,
You see my offering.
Not just what’s in my hands,
but what’s in my heart.
You know when I give out of devotion,
and when I go through motions
expecting favor without surrender.
Like Cain, I have brought You half hearted gifts.
I’ve tried to earn Your approval
without offering my best,
without yielding my will.
And when You do not regard my offering,
my face falls.
My pride flares.
Jealousy creeps in.
Bitterness takes root.
But You came to Cain with mercy,
not condemnation.
You said, “If you do well, will you not be accepted?”
You offered another chance.
You warned him
“Sin is crouching at the door.
Its desire is for you, but you must rule over it.”
Lord, how many times have You whispered that to me?
How many doors have I opened to sin,
knowing full well what lurked on the other side?
I confess
I’ve let anger fester.
I’ve nursed wounds until they became weapons.
I’ve looked at others with envy instead of gratitude.
And in the darkness of my heart,
I have heard the echo of Cain’s rage.
“Am I my brother’s keeper?”
Yes, Lord.
I am.
You have called me to love,
to protect,
to lift up not tear down.
Forgive me for the blood I’ve spilled
with words,
with silence,
with indifference.
And yet even after Cain’s worst moment,
You did not abandon him.
You marked him not to shame,
but to shield.
Justice and mercy,
both in Your hand.
You are a God who punishes sin,
but never stops pursuing sinners.
When I wander like Cain,
when I feel like a fugitive from grace,
when I build cities to hide my wounds
come find me.
Mark me with mercy.
Remind me I am not beyond redemption.
Help me bring You my best,
not out of fear, but out of love.
Let my worship rise like Abel’s
an offering of faith,
a fragrance of surrender.
You are the God who sees beyond the surface.
You search the thoughts and intentions.
Cleanse me where no one else can see.
Tear down the altars of pride and self.
Build in me a heart that treasures You alone.
And when others succeed,
teach me to rejoice, not resent.
When I am overlooked,
teach me to trust, not twist.
When sin crouches,
teach me to stand in the Spirit’s strength.
I do not want to be ruled by sin
I want to be ruled by love.
Lord, You raised up another son Seth
a sign that death does not have the final word.
From his line, hope would be born.
Redemption would come.
Jesus, You are that hope.
Let my story not end in exile.
Let my worship not grow cold.
Let my hands not rise in violence,
but in blessing.
Let my heart be ruled by You.
Even when I fall,
even when I fear,
even when I fail
lead me back to You,
my Redeemer,
my Keeper,
my God.
In the name of Jesus,
Amen.