Abba, what a joy to be home!
Thank you, Lord, that I am richer than David,
in the children and grandchildren who love me
and bless me with their company.
Thank you that I am richer than Solomon,
in the commodious confines of this home.
Thank you that I am richer than Herod,
in my ability to see your wonderful world,
the Andes one week,
the Smokies the next,
and the seven hills of Cincinnati the next...
and all in comfort and with a timeliness
unknown to the richest men of generations past.
I not only walk with the King, I live like a king!
Dios Manda La Lluvia
Dios manda la lluvia,
derrama de tu espíritu,
desciende hoy tu fuego,
sana mis heridas,
restaurame Señor.
Dios manda la lluvia,
derrama de tu espíritu,
desciende hoy tu fuego,
sana mis heridas,
restaurame Señor.
Manda la lluvia,
el rocío de tu amor,
llenando las vidas,
de tu pueblo, oh Señor.
Manda la lluvia,
el rocío de tu amor.
Visita hoy mi vida
cámbiame Señor.
derrama de tu espíritu,
desciende hoy tu fuego,
sana mis heridas,
restaurame Señor.
Dios manda la lluvia,
derrama de tu espíritu,
desciende hoy tu fuego,
sana mis heridas,
restaurame Señor.
Manda la lluvia,
el rocío de tu amor,
llenando las vidas,
de tu pueblo, oh Señor.
Manda la lluvia,
el rocío de tu amor.
Visita hoy mi vida
cámbiame Señor.
Lord of the Pueblo
Lord of the pueblo,
King of my heart,
thank you for these people.
Thank you that in Christ
there is no East or West,
north or south,
light or dark,
insider or outsider,
but we are all one in Christ Jesus.
Thank you for Don and Christie,
and for Gianni and Giannina,
and Luis and Yvonne,
and Hebert,
Natalia,
Rueben,
Jack,
Juan,
and so many others I have met,
by your grace.
Be kind to them, Lord God Adonai,
and throw any blessings
you have planned for me
their way instead,
in Jesus´name, amen.
(Posted simultaneously on Bob Hostetler´s Prayer Blog, Desperate Pastor Blog, and ¨Hither & Yon¨Blog)
King of my heart,
thank you for these people.
Thank you that in Christ
there is no East or West,
north or south,
light or dark,
insider or outsider,
but we are all one in Christ Jesus.
Thank you for Don and Christie,
and for Gianni and Giannina,
and Luis and Yvonne,
and Hebert,
Natalia,
Rueben,
Jack,
Juan,
and so many others I have met,
by your grace.
Be kind to them, Lord God Adonai,
and throw any blessings
you have planned for me
their way instead,
in Jesus´name, amen.
(Posted simultaneously on Bob Hostetler´s Prayer Blog, Desperate Pastor Blog, and ¨Hither & Yon¨Blog)
Peru Prayer
Thank you, Lord, for safe travel,
for gracious hospitality,
for beautiful scenery,
for renewed fellowship,
for the privilege of serving,
and the awareness of your presence,
in Jesus´name, amen.
for gracious hospitality,
for beautiful scenery,
for renewed fellowship,
for the privilege of serving,
and the awareness of your presence,
in Jesus´name, amen.
Never Thanks
Abba, Father, I thank you for the nevers in my life.
I've never endured major surgery.
I've never contracted AIDS or hepatitis or cancer,
or ebola or malaria or any such thing.
I've never been forced to go hungry.
I've never been physically or sexually abused.
I've never been orphaned.
I've never gone bankrupt.
I've never been homeless.
I've never experienced a wife's betrayal.
I've never experienced the trauma of divorce.
I've never been arrested or imprisoned.
I've never been unemployed.
I've never awakened with a hangover.
I've never had to fight substance abuse.
I've never lost a limb or had an organ stop functioning.
I've never doubted my children's love.
I've never been completely alone, for you, Lord, are always with me,
and always faithful.
Amen.
I've never endured major surgery.
I've never contracted AIDS or hepatitis or cancer,
or ebola or malaria or any such thing.
I've never been forced to go hungry.
I've never been physically or sexually abused.
I've never been orphaned.
I've never gone bankrupt.
I've never been homeless.
I've never experienced a wife's betrayal.
I've never experienced the trauma of divorce.
I've never been arrested or imprisoned.
I've never been unemployed.
I've never awakened with a hangover.
I've never had to fight substance abuse.
I've never lost a limb or had an organ stop functioning.
I've never doubted my children's love.
I've never been completely alone, for you, Lord, are always with me,
and always faithful.
Amen.
Listen, Lord
(a Prayer by James Weldon Johnson)
O Lord, we come this morning
Knee-bowed and body-bent
Before Thy throne of grace.
O Lord--this morning--
Bow our hearts beneath our knees,
And our knees in some lonesome valley.
We come this morning--
Like empty pitchers to a full fountain,
With no merits of our own.
O Lord--open up a window of heaven,
And lean out far over the battlements of glory,
And listen this morning.
Lord, have mercy on proud and dying sinners--
Sinners hanging over the mouth of hell,
Who seem to love their distance well.
Lord--ride by this morning--
Mount Your milk-white horse,
And ride-a this morning--
And in Your ride, ride by old hell,
Ride by the dingy gates of hell,
And stop poor sinners in their headlong plunge.
And now, O Lord, this man of God,
Who breaks the bread of life this morning--
Shadow him in the hollow of Thy hand,
And keep him out of the gunshot of the devil.
Take him, Lord--this morning--
Wash him with hyssop inside and out,
Hang him up and drain him dry of sin.
Pin his ear to the wisdom-post,
And make his words sledge hammers of truth--
Beating on the iron heart of sin.
Lord God, this morning--
Put his eye to the telescope of eternity,
And let him look upon the paper walls of time.
Lord, turpentine his imagination,
Put perpetual motion in his arms,
Fill him full of the dynamite of Thy power,
Anoint him all over with the oil of Thy salvation,
And set his tongue on fire.
And now, O Lord--
When I've done drunk my last cup of sorrow--
When I've been called everything but a child of God--
When I'm done traveling up the rough side of the mountain--
O--Mary's Baby--
When I start down the steep and slippery steps of death--
When this old world begins to rock beneath my feet--
Lower me to my dusty grave in peace
To wait for that great gittin'-up morning--Amen.
O Lord, we come this morning
Knee-bowed and body-bent
Before Thy throne of grace.
O Lord--this morning--
Bow our hearts beneath our knees,
And our knees in some lonesome valley.
We come this morning--
Like empty pitchers to a full fountain,
With no merits of our own.
O Lord--open up a window of heaven,
And lean out far over the battlements of glory,
And listen this morning.
Lord, have mercy on proud and dying sinners--
Sinners hanging over the mouth of hell,
Who seem to love their distance well.
Lord--ride by this morning--
Mount Your milk-white horse,
And ride-a this morning--
And in Your ride, ride by old hell,
Ride by the dingy gates of hell,
And stop poor sinners in their headlong plunge.
And now, O Lord, this man of God,
Who breaks the bread of life this morning--
Shadow him in the hollow of Thy hand,
And keep him out of the gunshot of the devil.
Take him, Lord--this morning--
Wash him with hyssop inside and out,
Hang him up and drain him dry of sin.
Pin his ear to the wisdom-post,
And make his words sledge hammers of truth--
Beating on the iron heart of sin.
Lord God, this morning--
Put his eye to the telescope of eternity,
And let him look upon the paper walls of time.
Lord, turpentine his imagination,
Put perpetual motion in his arms,
Fill him full of the dynamite of Thy power,
Anoint him all over with the oil of Thy salvation,
And set his tongue on fire.
And now, O Lord--
When I've done drunk my last cup of sorrow--
When I've been called everything but a child of God--
When I'm done traveling up the rough side of the mountain--
O--Mary's Baby--
When I start down the steep and slippery steps of death--
When this old world begins to rock beneath my feet--
Lower me to my dusty grave in peace
To wait for that great gittin'-up morning--Amen.
A Prayer by Johnson Oatman, Jr.
My heart has no desire to stay Where doubts arise and fears dismay;
Though some may dwell where those abound,
My prayer, my aim, is higher ground.
I want to live above the world,
Though Satan’s darts at me are hurled;
For faith has caught the joyful sound,
The song of saints on higher ground.
I want to scale the utmost height
And catch a gleam of glory bright;
But still I’ll pray till heav’n I’ve found,
“Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.”
Lord, lift me up and let me stand,
By faith, on Heaven’s tableland,
A higher plane than I have found;
Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.
Amen.
Take My Life
(a prayer by Jeremy Camp)
Take my life,
take my mind;
take my soul,
take my will.
I am yours now,
and I give it all to you.
Amen.
Take my life,
take my mind;
take my soul,
take my will.
I am yours now,
and I give it all to you.
Amen.
My Psalm 88
O LORD, God of my salvation;
Morning and evening I lay my needs before you.
Listen, please, Lord.
Hear what I'm saying.
My soul is in need, as always.
My moods are too changeful.
While I feel renewed in your Spirit
and my mind and heart are hungrier than ever,
and I feel like I've come through a dark valley
into fields of green and gold,
I am still far too easily brought down
by the negativity of others
and the awareness of people's disapproval.
I am not a victim of circumstance...
but I too often act like one,
as though the pit is always a step or two ahead of me.
But, Lord, I say to you now,
while I have strength to say it,
let my companions shun me;
let people misunderstand me,
let the uninformed be ungracious toward me!
I rely upon you, O LORD;
I spread out my hands to you.
Your steadfast love is my food,
your faithfulness is my drink.
As long as you continue to reveal your wonders to me
and to your church,
I will trust you to teach me
not to care what others say or believe about me.
You know my heart.
Every morning my prayer comes before you.
Though it may feel like it at times, you never cast me away
or hide your face from me.
I am nothing without you.
I am helpless without you.
Whatever attacks you allow to come my way
I will do my best, by your grace, to withstand,
and to remember that even when former companions
believe lies or tell lies about me,
that every affliction you allow me to suffer
is an opportunity to learn and grow and conquer! Hallelujah! Amen.
Morning and evening I lay my needs before you.
Listen, please, Lord.
Hear what I'm saying.
My soul is in need, as always.
My moods are too changeful.
While I feel renewed in your Spirit
and my mind and heart are hungrier than ever,
and I feel like I've come through a dark valley
into fields of green and gold,
I am still far too easily brought down
by the negativity of others
and the awareness of people's disapproval.
I am not a victim of circumstance...
but I too often act like one,
as though the pit is always a step or two ahead of me.
But, Lord, I say to you now,
while I have strength to say it,
let my companions shun me;
let people misunderstand me,
let the uninformed be ungracious toward me!
I rely upon you, O LORD;
I spread out my hands to you.
Your steadfast love is my food,
your faithfulness is my drink.
As long as you continue to reveal your wonders to me
and to your church,
I will trust you to teach me
not to care what others say or believe about me.
You know my heart.
Every morning my prayer comes before you.
Though it may feel like it at times, you never cast me away
or hide your face from me.
I am nothing without you.
I am helpless without you.
Whatever attacks you allow to come my way
I will do my best, by your grace, to withstand,
and to remember that even when former companions
believe lies or tell lies about me,
that every affliction you allow me to suffer
is an opportunity to learn and grow and conquer! Hallelujah! Amen.
A Prayer from St. Stephen's Walbrook in London
O God, make the door (of my heart and life) wide enough to receive
all who need human love and fellowship;
narrow enough to shut out
all envy, pride, and strife.
Amen.
(Thanks to Elaine W. Miller, from whom I learned of this prayer)
Monday Thanks
Abba, thank you for answered prayer...
for yesterday's celebrations,
for my family,
for such kindness as you've shown me,
in Jesus' name, amen.
for yesterday's celebrations,
for my family,
for such kindness as you've shown me,
in Jesus' name, amen.
O Come Immanuel
O come, O come Immanuel,
come to me.
Come to us.
Come to our celebration.
Inhabit our praise.
Come.
Come and grace us with your presence,
your beauty,
your compelling power.
Let us all draw closer to you
and to each other
in our worship today,
amen.
come to me.
Come to us.
Come to our celebration.
Inhabit our praise.
Come.
Come and grace us with your presence,
your beauty,
your compelling power.
Let us all draw closer to you
and to each other
in our worship today,
amen.
Prayer for a Busy Week by Raymond Foss
Lord, we thank you for this day,
for the many gifts you have heaped on us,
for the laughter and wonder of these young hearts
who share our days and our nights;
for sun and rain and growing things,
gifts of companionship.
Watch over this family Lord,
see us through our challenges,
mark the days of our lives, this moment, this week,
with joys too great to measure,
Lives rich in your good grace,
your love, your guidance.
Unburden our hearts, relieve our pain,
still our quiet, our fears;
Bless us Lord in the busy week to come.
for the many gifts you have heaped on us,
for the laughter and wonder of these young hearts
who share our days and our nights;
for sun and rain and growing things,
gifts of companionship.
Watch over this family Lord,
see us through our challenges,
mark the days of our lives, this moment, this week,
with joys too great to measure,
Lives rich in your good grace,
your love, your guidance.
Unburden our hearts, relieve our pain,
still our quiet, our fears;
Bless us Lord in the busy week to come.
How Shall I Pray?
(a prayer by Ted Loder in his book, Guerrillas of Grace)
How shall I pray?
Are tears prayers, Lord?
Are screams prayers,
or groans
or sighs
or curses?
Can trembling hands be lifted to you,
or clenched fists
or the cold sweat that trickles down my back
or the cramps that knot my stomach?
Will you accept my prayers, Lord,
my real prayers,
rooted in the muck
and mud and rock of my life,
and not just the pretty,
cut-flower,
gracefully arranged
bouquet of words?
Will you accept me, Lord,
as I really am,
messed up mixture of glory and grime?
How shall I pray?
Are tears prayers, Lord?
Are screams prayers,
or groans
or sighs
or curses?
Can trembling hands be lifted to you,
or clenched fists
or the cold sweat that trickles down my back
or the cramps that knot my stomach?
Will you accept my prayers, Lord,
my real prayers,
rooted in the muck
and mud and rock of my life,
and not just the pretty,
cut-flower,
gracefully arranged
bouquet of words?
Will you accept me, Lord,
as I really am,
messed up mixture of glory and grime?