Breath, dear girl. Slow down. Let your soul take pace with Jesus.
Maybe, just for today, let’s do something a bit different. Instead of me being a story-teller, what if we prayed together? What if I told you I am learning how to pray all over again? And what if I told you that nothing feels better for my soul?
I believe that God is the most powerful, but if we are being honest, sometimes I don’t pray like that. I fully testify that I am a daughter of the King, but I rarely pray like I have the authority with the One I am praying to. And to be honest, sometimes prayer is like breathing, and other times it is like walking through mud.
Squelch, squelch, squelch.
And the feeling gets caked on me and I don’t carry dirt very well.
I am going to assume that you don’t, either.
So, dear friend, let’s do this together. Can we pray together? Yes, over the internet. Yes, over email. Yes, over black and white words. But the Spirit can be present even in black and white human words, in human machines and be propelled to infiltrate human bodies.
Because God is far bigger and more authoritative and more powerful than I make Him out to be.
And today, I am not making Him small. Instead, I believe that when His daughters pray, He stirs.
And hear me sweet friend, He is already stirring.
He is always coming.
He is always calling.
He is always catching.
God is stirring right now and He has already moved things in motion for your day, so for today, let’s pray:
Dear Abba Father,
I come and I want to simply say, “I know.” I know that you painted the sky this morning, dripping with color. I know that you filled the oceans and that you are watching waves turn over themselves and turn over themselves and turn over themselves. I know the galaxies, including the billions of stars, are in place because you hung them.
And I pause to know that you are in control.
To let my shoulders relax.
To feel your breath on my face, because right now I need to be that close to you. I need you to tilt my chin up, like a good Father does. I wait for you to give an easy smile.
And so the smile creeps across both our lips.
Abba, my world feels out of control. And if I am listening to the megaphone of it all. I can tend to feel out of control with it.
The idea of choosing a new leader for America feels hopeless, but that can’t be from you, because you bring hope.
The injustices that seem to be increasing rather than decreasing paralyzes me, but that can’t be from you because you bring life.
The words that are being slung around like small stones in a slingshot are stinging, but I know your words are kind and compassionate; because your words bring grace.
My chin is tilted to you, Jesus. You have all of me. Today, would you, stir in me the power and authority I have in you. Would you breathe — with the same breath you use over the stars and moon and waves — into me? Would you whisper your truth into my bones? Would you remind me that everything you have is mine?
Would you take me by the shoulders, gently and tenderly as I go into the rest of my day, and would you say:
Bring hope, for I bring hope.
Bring life, for I bring life.
Bring grace, for I am grace.
Make me brave, Jesus. And when I need it all over again, would you bend down and lift my chin once more?
It’s in the power of the name of Jesus that we pray. Amen.