Dear Divine Creator,
My head is full of my own ideas. These ideas have the ability to manipulate and take me from your path. Dear God, please sweep through and brush away the cobwebs of pain. Rinse out the stench of judgement or lack and leave me empty. Leave me empty to invite you and your angels in over and over, that I may be inwardly rearranged to be a a servant to the glory of heaven. Which is and ever will be your highest call for me. Whisper often, make room, the Spirit is available to take the wheel. What a heavenly gift that would be.