a Saturday morning prayer

Gracious Lord, I hold myself captive in cautious apprehension, quicksand at red flags instead of walking past them. Empathy fighting timid apathy, brittled and worn. And You bring spring, warm breezes, blooms, fresh breath. You remind over and over that seasons change, the seeds You plant in our hearts are meant to grow us slow steady closer to You. Slow and steady, empathy strengthens and steadies, standing taller, stepping forward. Amen & amen.

Gracious Lord,

I’m certain You know my heart, how some days I have more questions than answers. You nod & listen. I hold my breath wanting more calm than chaos, spin wheels seeking instead of resting in Your shelter. And I ask, can my daily habits be a form of worship? An intentional daily choice to seek You at each touch point in the day? To shelter in Your calm to calm the chaotic. Maybe it’ll feel a wrestling at first, learning to maintain constant daily contact until it is a constant dwelling within the shadow of Your almighty. And You whisper, “come.”

Amen & amen.

Gracious Lord,

It feels like two steps forward cause me to stumble one back. I look down and see how I’m tripping over stones You already rolled away. My feet snagging on worry, frets of failure. Remind me to keep going, to look to You-worries change to worship. You polish sharp stones to small pebbles.

Amen & amen.

Gracious Lord,

Sometimes I feel busted broken, weary worn. And You still open doors. Can You forgive my ways, the way I’ve focus more on storms than the Savior? How naive I see more thunder and lightning than Your sustaining salvation? And maybe that’s why You bring storms, to bring washing skies where rainbows can be clearly seen.

Amen & amen.