She's evil, Lord. Mean, on purpose. She knows exactly what to say to get me living in the flesh and not in the Spirit. I'm useless around her. If You've chosen me to be her witness, she doesn't have a chance. I can't see her through Your eyes, only through mine, still stinging with the tears her barbs produced.
So You hug me tight, Abba, and kiss my booboos, and call me, "Princess." I raise my chin, wipe my eyes, and remember who I am … and who I was. I get back down on my knees.
Father God, she needs You. She needs Your Son to take away her guilt and shame. She needs Your Spirit to heal the horrible gouges in her soul, full now of bitterness, anger, and regret. She doesn't know what she needs. She only knows she hurts. I beg You, who made her mind and heart, reach her now and touch her deeply. Soften where she's hard, strengthen where she's weak, and provide that new heart. Give her faith in Jesus Christ. Grant her the ability to believe the Truth when she hears it … because I'm going to tell her … again and again. I want her to be a princess, too.
