If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.
2 Chronicles 7:14
Join with others tonight and pray for our world.
Simulcast Video: Prayer for COVID-19
The phone rings, it’s ignored
it rings again, such an irritant
his phone jumps about the table
exasperated he answers
“she isn’t here, she’ll call you back”
(sobbing on the other end of the line)
“My car was just hit. I’m sitting on the side of the road”
“Are you okay honey? Here’s mom.”
How often do we get calls that we don’t pick up?
I have family on their own ring tone and I still miss their calls.
Ever think about this? God always hears our cries for help and He knows each of our voices (kind of like heavenly ring tones.) Not only does God hear our cries, He hears us complain, whine, beg for direction. The phone exchange in Heaven has no down time and our calls are always answered – no dropped calls. Try prayer the next time you feel at the end of your earthly rope – He is listening!
“In my distress I called upon the Lord, And cried to my God for help; He heard my voice out of His temple, and my cry for help before Him came into His ears.”
“The righteous cry, and the Lord hears And delivers them out of all their troubles. The Lord is near to the brokenhearted
And saves those who are crushed in spirit.”
Psalm 34:17 & 18
“Call upon Me in the day of trouble; I shall rescue you, and you will honor Me.”
Silent touch upon my fingertips
in awe I barely breathe
captivated by the moment
how can I this place ever leave
Upon the plains I live
where golden waves rush by
but in my heart I cling
majestic eagle soaring high
To the mountain I’ll return
lay upon grassy bed
beneath the canopy of stars
dreams swirl about my head
With the dawn willingly rise
light greeting forth the day
not closing now my eyes
hands lifted, silent I pray
Shared with Poet’s United Midweek Motif – the theme this week is “Silence.”
How or where does silence beckon you?
I hear thunder in the distance
rolling onward like the waves
gaining power it surges forward
and like a child I am afraid
flash and pounding ever stronger
seconds now and it will hit
dark the clouds and growing closer
blowing fragile tree to bits
it has stopped and hovers o’er me
a distinct voice of one I love
in the whispers it is calming
begging help from God above
whispered prayers become a shout
I read an inspiring devotion about ‘Reverse Thunder’ and the power that prayer has. With our world in such tumult, we can turn our prayers into a reverse thunder – an energy that can be focussed in fervent loving appeal.
In my distress I called to the Lord; I cried to my God for help. From his temple he heard my voice; my cry came before him, into his ears.
“Devote yourselves to prayer, being watchful and thankful.”
“From the end of the earth I call to You when my heart is faint; Lead me to the rock that is higher than I. ”
runs through my fingertips
furrows formed by tears
so much run-off in my heart
though preparing these many years
how can one prepare
for a loved one’s life to pass?
one my knees I’ve daily prayed
memories to hold me fast
to the pier of grief I’m moored
against me the waves crash
to hope my sinews lashed
“steer straight” I hear the call
a lighthouse is ahead
drift not into death’s shoals
peer through the cloud of dread
I can’t catch the tears
cascading down your face
nor stem emotion’s tide
rushing as if in a race
I can’t cradle you
as in quiet you groan
nor ease the suffering
that comes when you’re alone
I can’t be where I’d like to be
holding back the sorrow
the life that will no longer be
knowing he wont be there tomorrow
But know if I could
I’d place my finger in the crack
that will never seal
part of you never quite on track
I will say a prayer
love you and yours more
spill my own tears
cast rose petals on the shore
Have you suffered loss?
then you know there is that place
that is always a bit raw
a tear that escapes
a heart that skips a beat
My dearest friend lost her father today.
This man was a father to many more than his four
I was one of the dozen kids he offered a home to.
He no average man a heart big and warm
Safe journey to distant shores
The sun will come up …
and I bet
I’ll face this all
it’s not fun
Just thinking about
cancer eats the joy
and leaves a sorrow
today its won
When Im stuck in a day
that’s sad and lonely
I must fall on my knees
a pain free
is always a hope
The sun’ll come out
Bet your bottom dollar
There’ll be sun!
Just thinkin’ about
Clears away the cobwebs,
And the sorrow
‘Til there’s none!
When I’m stuck a day
I just stick out my chin
The sun’ll come out
So ya gotta hang on
Come what may
I love ya Tomorrow!
The prompt at Never Ending Story is Tomorrow and at Poet’s United – Verse First is Ordinary.
Some of us face extreme pain as part of our daily, ordinary lives. I have managed 22 pain filled years without narcotics (except when I’ve been hospitalized).
You can sing my version of “Tomorrow” I have. I added Annie’s version because she faced a wall of Tomorrows and managed a smile with each one. To each of you who are enduring I hope for a sun filled Tomorrow.
How do you douse 20 years of pain
that falls like sheets of pouring rain?
with a needle, a pill
or a strong stubborn will?
How do you face unfaceable fear?
the adversary today certainly not clear
A shotgun, a dagger
an act, a feigned swagger?
How do you battle multiple growths of Cancer?
For so many I wish I held the answer
strong arms a bucket for the tears
truck load of warm loving prayers
To you who suffer there is no plan but there is in fact a place to turn.
I’ve heard there were no atheists in the foxhole.
I assure you there are few who don’t seek the strong arms of a God in a Cancer ward.
As I write this, I am packing to go to a cancer hospital to find out where my cancer is at.
( I do believe in miracles; I have experienced way too many to not believe in victory.)
When I face fear I get rather cold and distant – if any of you have felt this from me please don’t take it personally.
I guess this would constitute as a gray poem not dark
Happy One Shot to all and thanks to each for their contribution.
Thanks for the photo of this grafitti piece: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wilderdom/266650346/
I wasnt there but I felt your fear. We are mothers after all who have big, strong sons. Strong arms that will hold us when we are frail and weak.
We will never meet but I was there in the waiting room with you. I was holding your hand. I shed a tear. I wanted to yell at the doctors to hurry. I wanted to scrub in and help.
He swallowed a screw you told me through tear brimmed eyes.
“He was fixing the wall in our house when he inhaled it. When he started coughing painful spurts of blood we knew there was trouble. There are no doctors near our village. A friend drove us in his truck many miles to the hospital.”
“They told us the risk was great they couldn’t find the screw in the x-ray. The doctor knew something was there. they had to find it.”
I hugged her. There was a picture in my mind of a screw in your son. I prayed the doctor would find it my friend. If he were my son, you would do the same.
They found the screw after hours of exploring. “The rate of infection is high,” they said. After two weeks, the mother, my friend proudly showed me the screw tucked next to her heart. We danced around the screw – for life, for sons.
I wrote this note to the mama I will never meet:” I got the call before your son went into surgery; my friend a doctor was overseas. He was there when your son needed him. Our lives are different you are from a small village in Zimbabwe I am from a big city in the United Stated. We are one as mothers. I was so glad my doctor friend was there to help your son. I was there with you in prayer.”