Saturday, January 22, 2011

speak, Lord

(If this prayer rings true to your heart, I invite you to make it your own. Substitute references to times and days to suit your situation, if you like.)

Is this the morning I finally rest in your love, Lord? Dare I ask the God of hope grant me the hope of God? Can I come to you for comfort, assurance no matter how I’m feeling? Will you be the friend that wakes with me, too early this Saturday?

Let it be so, dear Lord. You are good and you have always been good. Even when the way was hard, you were there. Even when other friends betrayed, you remained true and faithful. In death and loss you have been my life and gift. In need, you have been my bread; in plenty, my wine changed from water.

When this wandering sheep strayed, you searched for me--never stopped searching for me until you found me. You saw I was hurt and you healed me, laid beside me to exchange wounds—my cuts for your perfection.

When I was jobless, the vocation you granted me still occupied me. Somehow you have kept this call alive in my heart, even when such a call felt burdensome and unrealistic. You roused me out of bed with a battle cry and granted courage when I was hardly wakeful.

It is too early on a Saturday, but just the right time to talk to you, Father. Thank you for listening. Now speak, Lord, for your servant listens.

(If you are praying this: I encourage you to just be silent now and listen).

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