Tagged: prayer

Letter to an unknown human 2

Teaching

LETTER TO AN UNKNOWN HUMAN

A Surprising Opportunity My friend contacted the prayer group to ask for a favor. A young man she is exceedingly close to will be attending a special retreat. At some point during the week he will be given letters and notes of encouragement from friends and family. My friend asked if we would consider writing a note or some encouraging Scriptures for him. While we may not be related we have been praying for him. Close enough. The Letter Alan, You, Alan Moore, are seen by God. And not only seen but loved by Him. Yep, despite what we have...

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Prayer

STOP THE WORLD AND TRANSCEND TIME

A MERE FORMALITY Growing up, my family recited the same prayer over every meal.  When we visited relatives, I discovered the identical rote prayer was a family tradition. The only variation concerned the words, These or Thy, which ignited a passionate debate over the grammatically correct wording. Unregenerate—reciting creeds and the Lord’s Prayer at church, the blessing over meals, and the disturbing if I die before I wake, nighttime utterance were mere forms of godliness.   But God. After delivering me from death to life, everything shifted. God took what I had known as prayer and graciously peeled it off like a thin veneer....

6

Comfort and Hope / Poetry

THE HELPER

HOLY SPIRIT Hold me close—don’t let me spin A skillful tale apart from Him Wake me up to satan’s schemes Don’t let me die within my dreams Or fancied ways of coping with The constant trials, tilts, and shifts Do keep me in Reality With Your eyes, Lord, help me see, Discern and learn, live Your truth O Lord, I long to see the proof Of what You say and who You are Fleshed out whether causing scar, Joy or peace, pain or sorrow, Every moment, every hour Clinging to the glorious Vine Your life flowing into mine Your thoughts...

6

Encouragement

SHADE OF GRACE —PART FOUR Help In Times Of Trouble

Help In Times Of Trouble DIRECTED STEPS After lugging my terracotta pots to the truck, I went back inside the house to see if my friend was finished at the estate sale. When I didn’t see her, I decided to check out the kitchen again. My first run-through was brisk. The thought of missing an antique bowl or passing up a rolling pin left me eager for a second look. As I stepped into the small kitchen, I noticed another woman perusing the sea of cooking utensils. After a few moments, she spoke. One of those passing comments about estate...