Jesus, it's very comforting to know that you once said, "it is not the healthy who need a doctor but the sick." We confess that we are sick. Anxiety and anger weigh us down. Brokenness and bitterness paralyze our souls. Cynicism and criticism feel like givens. Our hearts, rarely at peace; our spirits, so easily crushed. Even when we laugh out loud there's this persistent unmistakable ache deep down that won't let us go. It's so easy to assume that even our times of rejoicing will somehow give way to grief.
We confess that we are sick. But as we do, we come to you, Jesus, master physician, suffering servant. You once declared, "a bruised reed I will not break and a smoldering wick I will not snuff out." What a relief! We beg you - heal our twisted, torn, always falling into temptation hearts. Bring life to these dry bones. Rescue us, redeem us and restore us, by your grace and for your glory. Amen.