Only by Grace

Hello, Lord. I wanted to . . . Well – if it doesn’t offend – I was thinking . . . uhm . . . Oh, blow this. You know everything, so who am I trying to kid? Here we go. Sometimes, Lord – with all respect – You feel far. I start praying, and it’s as if I’m talking to the wall. “Thank You so much for the blessing of today and everything You spoiled me with.” Blank silence. “I pray for Your Hand over this and that, and that You will intervene in Situation ABC.” Blank silence continues. “And please, Lord, heal H, and soften the heart of L.” Blank. “In Your precious Name I ask these things. Amen.” Blank, blank, blank. It’s like every word I say bounces off the ceiling and back into my tearstained face. So I get introspective, Father. What unconfessed sin is there in my heart? Who have I not forgiven? Which habits and desires do I need to get rid of? I do the necessary heart-cleaning, and try again. Uhm. Blank. I decide to chuck my to-pray-for-list and just glorify You...

Lord, have You taken a good look lately at this world You made? I see My world daily, child - every bit of it. Have You taken a proper look at the people in it, then? I certainly have. So You've seen all the poor, Lord? Strings of them - so many with nothing. Wind and rain stream through the cracks in their homes. The cold stings through the holes in their clothes. Glass stabs the soles of their bare feet as an empty stomach screams to ears gone deaf from habit. Tummies swell; teeth fall out; scabies erupt because there is no immune system to fight back. Father, they break my heart. What shall we do with them? Give them to Me. Have You seen the broken and grieving, dear God? The abused children with big glassy eyes, bruised bodies and bruised hearts. The girls who've been raped: dignity in shreds, all hope and joy stolen along with their virginity. The victims of separation, illness, death . . . Too many to even try and name them all. Those broken hearts, God. And t...