Lord God,
You are the One who rewrites what we have broken.
You told Moses, “Cut for yourself two tablets of stone like the first,”
and You wrote again with Your own hand.
Though Israel shattered the covenant,
You renewed it.
Though they rebelled,
You remained faithful.
You are the God who begins again.
You are not like man, who tires of mercy.
You carve grace upon stone,
and compassion upon the human heart.
You do not discard Your people
You restore them.
You make new what sin has defaced.
I confess, Lord,
how quickly I forget that my standing before You
rests not on my perfection,
but on Your persistence.
You pursue me when I wander,
You rewrite what my disobedience erases.
Forgive me for resisting Your chiseling hand
for shrinking back from the holy work
by which You shape my heart to mirror Yours.
You called Israel to circumcise their hearts
to cut away the callousness,
to love You without pretense or pride.
So do the same in me, Lord.
Strip away the hardness
that hides beneath religious habit.
Tear through my self-sufficiency
until tenderness returns.
Make my heart responsive again
alive to conviction,
quick to love,
slow to pride.
You reminded Your people that You are
“God of gods and Lord of lords,
the great, the mighty, and the awesome God,
who shows no partiality and takes no bribe.”
Yet You also said You “love the sojourner,
giving him food and clothing.”
Majesty and mercy meet in You.
Power and compassion dwell together.
You are both infinite in glory
and intimate in care.
Teach me, Lord, to live in that same balance
to walk humbly with those beneath me,
because I stand beneath You.
To love the stranger,
because I was once estranged.
To defend the weak,
because You defended me.
Let my reverence become compassion,
and my theology become tenderness.
You called Israel to remember
that their strength came from slavery redeemed,
their blessing from bondage broken.
So let me never forget
that I too was delivered by grace.
You brought me out of my Egypt
from sin’s house of bondage into freedom’s wide field.
May I never boast in the liberty
without bowing to the Liberator.
You said, “The heavens, even the highest heavens,
belong to the Lord your God,
yet the Lord set His heart in love on your fathers
and chose their descendants after them.”
O God, what wonder
that the Maker of galaxies
has chosen to dwell with dust.
That You, whose glory fills the cosmos,
desire a home within the human heart.
So dwell here, Lord.
Take this heart of mine as Your tabernacle.
Write Your commandments not on stone,
but on my soul.
Let obedience flow not from duty,
but from delight.
Let love be the language of my law keeping,
and joy the fragrance of my reverence.
You are the God who writes on hearts,
who renews covenant,
who calls me to walk in Your ways,
to love You, serve You, and cling to You.
Hold me close, Lord
that I may never wander far from the grace
that engraved Your mercy on my life.
In the name of Jesus,
whose blood inscribes the new covenant upon our hearts,
Amen.