“Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, as clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb flowing down the middle of the great street of the city. On each side of the river stood the tree of life, bearing twelve crops of fruit, yielding its fruit every month. And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations. No longer will there be any curse. The throne of God and of the Lamb will be in the city, and the servants will serve Him. For they will see His face, and His Name will be on their foreheads. There will be no more night, they will not need the light of the lamp or the light of the sun, for the Lord God will give them light. And they will reign forever and ever.” Revelation 22:1-5 (NIV)
 
A Prayer Over Our Children
Oh God, may my children serve You and see Your face within Your holy city. I pray they will behold Your marvelous wonders and know Your glorious truths. Place Your Name upon their foreheads and illuminate them with Your Light. Give them wisdom, understanding, and knowledge of the things soon to come. Bless them through the keeping of the words of Your prophecy. May they fall in worship of You who is the Alpha and Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End. Wash their robes, oh Lord, so they may eat of Your tree of life and enter Your city gates. Quench their thirst, I pray, and let them come, blessing them with the free gift of Your living water. Come, Lord Jesus, come and bless my children with Your grace.
 
Revelation
Today, I sit. Thoughts flow. Questions hover. Gratitude envelops and awe abounds. As I pen this prayer of the last book and chapter of the Bible, memories surge.
    
Four years ago, I embarked upon this mission to use the Word of God as the double-edged sword of the Spirit in prayer over my daughter. Much has changed since then. Friends, communities, vehicles, and even jobs. Sweet Pea, too, has changed. No longer does she mispronounce words or brim with tears when at school. Gone are the sippy cups and toddler sizes. Goodbye to the days of picking or scooping her up in my arms.
    
Some things are the same. my little girl still loves to play. Legos and Hatchimals abound. With the same excitement as her first sung words, Sweet Pea still sings with enthusiastic abandon. We still live in our blessing of a home. And I still love to write.
    
Looking back, it seemed ridiculous, even impossible, to traverse from Galatians to Revelations in prayer and writing. I wondered if I would ever make it. And I wondered if it would make a difference.
    
Did it? Has it? I can only speak for my family and myself. But yes. It has. Whether it has simply been God’s grace, intentional parenting, or prayers galore, Sweet Pea walks with the Lord. Even at her young age, she weighs her decisions against the Word and prays for God’s wisdom. Of course, like all of us, she rebels and makes mistakes. And some days, I despair of ever teaching her self-control over her tongue, behaviors, and attitudes. But God keeps calling and she keeps following.
    
What about me? Many things have I learned from this prayer journey. One valuable truth I gleaned is how Scripture gives power and authority in prayer. It firms our footing, clasps high the shield of faith, and wields the sword of the spirit with deadly blow. It goes before our children. It surrounds, fills, and covers. It transforms. It renews.
    
For myself, I am amazed how reading and praying through the Bible metamorphosized me. I have fallen deeper in love with Jesus. I Treasure His Word more dearly and understand more clearly. It changed me from the inside out. It has given me new eyes in which to see.
    
As a wife, I find myself serving  my husband with deeper gratitude, more eager to support and follow. As a parent, greater gentleness and grace salt my words of correction while also arming me with Truth in love. And as an individual, God’s Word has filled me to overflowing. Each day my identity is found more in Christ and less in the world. Each day, I grow in peace with my weaknesses and find strength in my Lord.
     Now inches and feet taller, Sweet Pea has quickly gained ground against my small stature.

     “I’m gonna be taller than you!” she gloats, saluting against my breastbone. I smile down on her. In a few short years, she will be the one grinning down at me.

     “I hope so,” I remark. And I do. But where my daughter’s statement extended only to physical stature, mine encompasses more. Yes, prayer for healthy physical development. But just as important, perhaps even more so, prayers for spiritual growth. Pleas for an ever expanding shield of protection and covering. Petitions to God that our children will grow taller in their faith and deeper in their walk with Jesus to tower over their parents with greater humility, grace, and faith.

     Yes, praying Scripture over our children makes a difference. For the better. Both in them, and in us. Keep on praying my fellow parents and grandparents. Use God’s Word to guide and guard you. Wield it as a weapon in your lives and in the lives of those whom you love. Keep on praying.
 

A Parents Prayer
Thank You Lord for Your Word. May it be a lamp unto my feet and light to my path. Help me be a faithful steward of Your mysteries and Your humble servant. Guide me by Your Word, oh God, and help me to live it out in my life, my family’s life, and the world around me. Amen                 .

“I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, ‘Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and He will dwell with them. They will be His people and God Himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.’”
Revelation 21:2-4 (NIV)
 
A Prayer Over Our Children
Oh God my God, let my children behold Your holy city, the new Jerusalem. May You wipe each tear from their eyes and may they no longer know death, mourning, crying, or pain. Make them new again and let them drink from the springs of Your living waters. May Your glory, oh God, be their shining light with the Lamb as their lamp. Purify my children, I plead, and write their names in Your book of Life.
 
More Than Enough
 
     Snappy words. Frayed edges and tested patience. Exhaustion hovered thick. A long day. A rushed and busy one.
     The unpopular dinner choice did not help matters. Nor did the bare pantry. Like a bear searching for food, I foraged for the next day’s lunch. Not much met my fingertips. A can of tuna, an old jar of peanut butter, and a bag of chocolate chips met my exploration. Other dried goods stood at attention, inspiring little excitement.

     Even Sweet Pea struggled. Her typical smile drooped.  Tears brimmed. She wanted to be done with her homework. She, like all of us, wanted this day to be over.

     Bedtime rapidly approached. Still more homework. Still no shower. With every passing minute, Sweet Pea despaired of whether time remained for devotions and bedtime story. Though bodies dragged, time elapsed, and weariness cluttered our minds, an emerging thought quickened. A mom who regiments schedules and timeframes, I threw caution to the wind.

     “How about we all snuggle?” I proposed. All I wanted to do was fast-forward the evening to a close. But the thought of crowding on my daughter’s bed around the Bible with a bedtime story appealed to my frazzled edges. Something about the stillness. Something about the peaceful quiet away from the day’s chaos. Something about the togetherness in God’s Word. Sweet Pea brightened. New energy infused her little body. Homework finished, crayons put away, and shower now completed, we gathered for Operation Snuggle.

     There we crowded, all three crammed onto Sweet Pea’s bed. Her Bible lay between us with a storybook beside it.
     …but the Word of the Lord stands forever,” my husband finished reading. Word after word of God had washed over us, breaking the heavy weariness. Peace settled deep. Restfulness of mind and spirit restored. 
     “Skip the story tonight,” I suggested, aware of the late hour. Disappointed, Sweet Pea rallied.
     “A short story, please?” she begged. Her eyes pleaded. Hope lit her countenance. I waivered.
     “Okay,” I yielded, “A short one.” The book on the bed was filled with Bible stories. I flipped open the book to a random page and pointed.
     “Elijah and the widow of Zarephath.” Sweet Pea read. Then, she smiled at the story’s title. “More Than Enough.” These three words pierced me. They resonated and shook.

     As my husband read aloud, the Holy Spirit rolled over me. During a day where I constantly grasped at straws, this simple reminder of God’s faithfulness ministered to my most deep places. If God never allowed the widow’s flour or oil to run dry, and if He gave the spirit of life back to the widow’s son, then God is more than enough for me. He is more than enough to help my family and I make it through the day. He is more than enough to help with my patience. He is more than enough to provide. He can help me transform our remaining pantry items into tomorrow’s lunch. God is more than enough.
​
     These simple yet profound truths girded my weary feet with the holy armor of peace. Fresh breath filled my lungs. The spirit of heaviness lifted to one of praise. For no matter our circumstances or challenges, I will be content. Because God is more than enough. He is always enough. For He is Jehovah Jireh. He is good.
 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gnnFeMqwnZc
Jireh (feat. Chandler Moore, Naomi Raine & Mav City Gospel Choir) - YouTube
 
 
A Parent’s Prayer
Lord, be more than enough for me this day. Help me be content in every circumstance.
For You have chosen me and know me by name. Thank You for always being with me and for always being more than enough. Amen.

Rejection. Kind words graced the page. Encouragement and valuable feedback offered. Even the warmth of Christ spirited the exchange. Nevertheless, it was rejection just the same.

     Moments earlier, I opened an email with heart pounding. Fingers trembled. Hope flared. Then, like a balloon released of air, I deflated. I had just received a rejection letter.

     Though Discouraged but not disheartened, it gave me pause. What are you doing? Echoed the question. Why are you doing this?

     Answers argued through my mind. Not the pep-talk ones but the prosecuting kind which poke holes and create misgivings. From the paper-shortage to the more expensive nature of publishing children’s books to my lack of platform and weariness of rejection, all logic pointed in one direction…Throw in the towel.

    What does it matter? I wondered. What difference does it make? Doubts assailed. Purpose re-examined. And abandonment of ship contemplated. I even started calculating the hours I would save each day if I stopped writing.

     But a still, small voice firmed the void. It is a humble privilege to be a mouthpiece, whispered the Holy Spirit to me. Though quiet, the unexpected answer screeched me to a halt. All vestiges of self fled. Only a humbled, contrite heart remained. For it is not about us. It is not about paper shortages, lack of inroads, or platform. It is not even about our persuasive words of wisdom. But it is about God’s spirit ant power. It is about our willingness and obedience to be used by God in spite of our weakness, fear, and trembling. It is surrendering self and putting on Christ. It is not about what we bring but rather what we are willing to lay down.

     And as I sat with these truths ringing in my ears, I bowed my head in humble submission. It is enough, I whispered. It is enough. And in this moment, fresh purpose arose. Just to have this humble privilege of serving as one of God’s many instruments, is enough for me. It is enough for me to keep writing.
​
     Each one of us possesses a unique sphere of influence. Whether this is our families, neighborhood, or workplace, God can use us to impact lives for His Kingdom. All we need to be is willing and obedient. For it is not our job to persuade. Rather, we leave this to the spirit and power of God. All we need to be is faithful.

“Then I saw thrones, and they sat on them, and judgement was given to them. And I saw the souls of those who had been beheaded because of their testimony of Jesus and because of the Word of God, and those who had not worshiped the beast or his image, and not received the mark on their foreheads and on their hands; and they came to life  and reigned with Christ  for a thousand years.”
Revelation 20:4
 
A Prayer Over Our Children
In the face of death, give my children strength to remain faithful to You, bearing testimony of Your Name and Your Word. Make them Your royal priesthood so they may reign beside You. When war breaks out against You and they are surrounded, rescue them by Your holy fire of heaven, casting Satan down. Write my children’s names in Your Book of Life, oh God. Judge them according to what they have done so they may remain in Your presence forever.
 
Storms
The perfect beach day. Clear, blue skies. Bright sunshine. Warm sand and cool ocean breezes. Best of all…the water. White water foam and salt spray mists. Rolling and rocking, waves lifted and bobbed. And the icing on top…the sounds…waves crashing, sea gulls calling, and ocean breezes murmuring. At our favorite beach, feet, shells, and fish lay obscured by sand infused waters. So much sand laces the waves that Even the third or fourth shower rinse cannot persuade all the sand to relinquish its hold. But not this morning.        
                                                                                                                 
     “I can see my toes!” exclaimed my husband in amazement. In the five years we frequented this beach, never a foot lest a toe could be spied in the murky sea. “The water is clear!” He marveled.

     Suddenly, a beautiful day at the beach transformed into surreal serenity. All day, my husband and little girl gloried in the transparent ocean waters. Unveiled scuttling crabs on the ocean floor with swarming minnows delighted their sight. Large, lazy fish rested against the watery depths. Even submerged seashells with their muted colors were now visible. To see with such clarity what had been once shrouded now brought awe and joy. For God’s hidden glory revealed in creation with such timely perfection stirred us to humble appreciation.

          “Why is it so clear?” I asked, heart soaring with each jostling wave. My body rocked forward and back with the flow of the tide.

     “The storm,” answered my husband. “It cleaned the ocean of sand and debris.” As I bobbed in the waves, a startling truth emerged.

     Though storms batter and assault, like hurricanes cleansing the ocean waters, God can use our own personal storms to cleanse us of sin and refine us. Like hurricanes which crash with ferocity, so the storms of our own lives likewise beat us down. Yet, after the crushing winds, the debris settles and stillness emerges. Left behind are hearts stripped bare and a humbling of the soul with all vestiges of self washed away.

     This can be a painful place. But it is one which can also be one of great depth and beauty. For in the quiet, we see with greater clarity. The waves no longer crash and obscure our sight. With transparent detail, our eyes can focus upon Jesus. Here, with souls purified and cleansed from the wreckages of the storms, we lay exposed and unadorned. But in our vulnerability, God’s love can wash us and minister to our deepest, darkest places. Storms destroy and tear down. But they can also be used to uproot strongholds and shatter shackles. God can use these assailing winds to purify and make us new.
​
     Dear Friends, may the storms of this life not destroy us but be used to unveil Christ in deep, new powerful ways. May God’s refining light transform us into new creations in Christ. And may God’s love wash over us with restoration and healing. This day, may we cling to Christ as our Shelter, Refuge, and Rock.
 
A Parent’s Prayer
Lord, open the eyes of my heart. I want to see You. Keep the storms of this life from distracting me. Rip all obscurities away. Instead, fix my focus upon You. Cleanse and purify me, oh God, and grant me peace. Though winds may assail, I pray You will keep me still before You with newfound clarity and strength. Amen.

“Then I heard something like the voice of a great multitude and like the sound of many waters, and like the sound of mighty peals of thunder, saying, ‘Hallelujah! For the Lord our God, the Almighty, reigns. Let’s rejoice and be glad and give the glory to Him, because the marriage of the Lamb has come, and His bride has prepared herself.’” Revelation 19:6-7 (NASV)
 
A Prayer Over Our Children
Almighty God, fill my children’s mouth with Your praise, let them bow down and worship You. Clothe them with fine linen while You ready them to sup at the wedding feast. I pray their eyes will rest only on You, the faithful and true Word of God. Gather my children to You, oh King of Kings and Lord of Lords, so they may taste of Your conquering victory and triumph.
 
Lean
There we sat, two peas in a pod. Sweet Pea leaned against me. I, as her pillow, reclined against the couch. We lay quiet and serene. She with her book. Me with a little girl snuggled in my arms. Stillness crept into the room. Her head rested on my chest while my heart pulsed with peace. Silence. Quiet. Contentment. Only the sound of our breathing and turning pages filled the space. Yet in the stillness, a tenderness of heart swelled deep. We spoke not a word save for the mutual murmurings of “I love you.” My eyes closed, treasuring the gift of life in my arms.

And as I held my child, my thoughts turned heavenward. Surely, this must be what our heavenly Father feels when we take time to be with Him. How tender is His love when we curl at His feet. What joy must overflow when we sit in the stillness of His presence. For with nothing else but our breath before Him, intimate communion begins. In the quiet, an intertwining of hearts and spirits can meld into a sweetness of the soul.

Every word I uttered to my daughter was filled with tenderness and deep love. Then, to hear her verbalize her own sweet endearments, expanded my heart to greater proportions. How true of God this must also be. What sweet fragrance our expressions of love to Him must bring.

When quiet settles, distractions fade. In the stillness, our eyes can now fix more keenly upon the object of our affection. This intense focus upon our beloved deepens intimacy. Just like a child who leans against her mother, the resonant cords of our love bind us to our heavenly Father with greater clarity and depth when we press into Him. Even the apostle whom Jesus loved leaned against His chest. For when we feel and hear the heartbeat of the one whom you love and the one who loves you, how can deeper connections not be forged? The inroads can only deepen. The relationship strengthened.

May we take time to be still with God. Even when noise and confusion surrounds, may we quiet our minds before Him. Breathe deep His presence, dear friends. Rest your heads upon His chest and listen to His heartbeat. Press in and lean.

A Parent’s Prayer
Oh Lord, help me find rest in Your presence. Hold me close in Your arms so I can hear Your very heartbeat. Fill me with Your love and goodness, oh Lord. May You cast all distractions aside. Fix my eyes upon You, oh God. Fill and renew me this day.

Sweet Pea is learning to play the piano. Her little fingers poise over the keys in perfect position. Straight is her back as she sits with legs propped upon her small footstool. Having learned the 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 fingering, Sweet Pea now has advanced to the treasure trove of reading music! What excitement!

         A dear friend is her teacher. A lover of God and music, Sweet Pea’s teacher carefully selected music books which feature simple praise choruses. What a delight to hear our little girl poke out notes to precious praise songs of old!
     “Praise the Name of Jesus!” her little voice sings along as her fingers press the keys, “You’re my Rock! You’re My Fortress! You’re My Deliverer. In You, I will trust!” 

     Her next music conquest excited her even more. It was a song she had known since a babe. To play its simple notes infused her with joy.

     “Lord, You are more precious than silver. Lord, You are more costly than gold…” Oh, to hear these cherished tunes fill our home has been precious indeed.

     A new praise song was assigned this past week. Once more, the music transported me back to my youth. Her fingers clunked slow, learning a new melody. But though unfamiliar to her, bit was beloved to me.

     “Jesus, Name above all Names…Beautiful Savior, glorious Lord! Emmanuel, God is With us. Blessed Redeemer…Living Word.” Over and over her fingers struggled to find the right keys. Her lips silently counted out the notes, correcting rhythms. Yet in my own head, the old song floated and spun.

     As Sweet Pea grew more confident, her little voice tried inserting the words to the melody. I smiled, hearing her rendition of mismatched rhythms with lyrics.

     “Here, let me sing it,” I offered. But Sweet Pea was not ready yet. Mastery over the notes had not settled into her bones. But today, something special happened.

      A day where my heart lay heavy, I reached for my guitar. For me, the physical act of organic worship breaks the wall of oppression. So it is no surprise that after choosing to wage war in several Enemy strongholds, pushback visited with force.

    But God was gracious. He had ministered to me in small yet powerful dosages spread over the span of a few days. It came first through community with beloved brethren, next with reminders of God’s faithfulness, and then in Bible study. Although lightening the oppression, it did not fully eradicate the hovering darkness. So out to God I cried and to the guitar I fled. To raw and organic worship I turned.

     Song after song I played. Fingers shifted, hands contorted, and wrist strummed. Louder and stronger my voice lifted interweaving harmony into melody, weaving an offering of the heart. Light glimmered and shone. The light pushed back, overcome, and conquered. My lungs breathed deep. My spirit rested. Then, an even greater gift. An offering of two rather than just one.

     “Mommy!” I forgot to practice!” burst out Sweet Pea. She ran for the piano and plunked herself down. So sudden was her outburst, my wrist hung mid strum and my voice halted mid-strain.

     “Okay,” I said, spirit refreshed and happy to relinquish. Typically, Sweet Pea warmed up with various musical exercises. But not this time. Surprised, I heard her press the notes to the worship song she was learning. Almost as if she too, wanted to join in the worship with her own little offering. The melody to “Jesus, Name Above All Names,” tickled the air. Her little fingers added their contribution. How precious this beloved, old song. How sweet the offering. Then, an idea popped in my brain.

     “Can I play with you?” I asked. Guitar in hand, I softly strummed a few chords. Sweet Pea eyes sparkled and shone. Her head bobbed with enthusiasm.

     “Here we go,” she chirped. This time, she sang as she played. With ears bent towards my guitar, my ears strained to listen. My fingers stumbled to find the correct chords. Together we fumbled over notes with rhythms awry. Our voices warbled.

     Though our attempts were at first clumsy, it did not dispel the utter joy which coursed through me. A radiant delight from the Father emanated within my spirit with peaceful glow. For it is not the notes or the noise which matters but the heart of the worshiper and the praise given in the offering. The pure joy of uniting in praise to our heavenly King in both instrument, heart, and voice stirred my soul to overflowing. The thrill of playing the right chord to the correct notes layered with lyrics of truth, ignited joy and new zeal.
​
     The sweet offerings of a child given with wonder and delight to our heavenly Lord, opened the gates of praise. In Psalms, we are told the praises of infants and children open the glories of heaven and establish strength. And, here in my living room, the gates of heaven flung wide, pouring new strength into my veins. Over and over, we played. The simple melody took shape with its humble accompaniment. Piano notes rhythmically misaligned and non-tandem words created an imperfect offering of heart and soul. An offering of the heart. A duet of praise.

“Then I heard another voice from heaven say: ‘Come out of her, my people, so that you will not share in her sins. . .’”     Revelation 18:4 (NIV)
 
Prayer Over Our Children
Oh God, call my children out of this adulterous world so they may not fall into sin nor receive Your judgement or wrath. May they not taste death, mourning, or the famine of Your consuming fire. Instead, let them rejoice in Your justice and might. When the City of Babylon is thrown down, oh God, may my children still sing Your songs, know Your good and honest work, shine with Your light, and hear Your voice.
 
Family
 
     Guilt and discouragement recently infiltrated my heart. Great hopes and expectations enthused my start to summer break. Yet with less than a month left, the utter lack of any tangible progress to my list of summer priorities left me downtrodden. Why bother? I asked myself, You can’t do anything anyway.

“They will wage war against the Lamb, but the Lamb will triumph over them because He is Lord of Lords and King of Kings —and with Him will be His called, Chosen, and faithful followers." Revelations 17:14 (NIV)
 
A Prayer Over Our Children
Oh Lamb of God, keep my children faithful to You. Help them turn away from evil desires and lusts of the flesh. When they face temptations, keep their eyes fixed on You. Write their names in the Book of Life, oh God. Pour out Your wisdom and blessing on them, I pray. But when war wages against You, let them stand for You as chosen and faithful followers. Praise You, oh King of Kings, for You are the One who overcomes and is Lord of Lords.
 
How Great
​
Of late, after midnight bedtimes have become the standard norm. Midnight, one o’clock, and three a.m.  find me with head nodding on my loveseat, keyboard in hand. Even my poor husband s kept the midnight vigil with his work ramping up to fever pitch. So last night when we both crawled into bed at one a.m., a minor victory prevailed. Yet too soon daylight would dawn and force us to rise. 

Revelation 16
 
“Then I heard the angel in charge of the waters say, ‘You are just in these judgements, oh Holy One, You who are and whom were; for they have shed the blood of Your holy people and Your prophets, and You have given them blood to drink as they deserve.’ And I heard the altar respond: Yes, Lord God Almighty, true and just are Your judgements.” Revelation 16:5-7, (NIV)
 
A Prayer Over Our Children
Oh conquering King, when Your wrath pours out, shelter and hide my child in Your holy tabernacle. When judgements come, find her blameless through her sufferings. Yet bring her to repentance with all praise and glory to You. Prepare my child for battle, I plead, keeping her alert and ready for Your glorious return.
 
Truth
     Today was one of those mornings. Crazy and hectic. Rushed and harried. Amidst it all, a complete attitude makeover was badly needed…for me.
     It started when I awoke late and behind the proverbial eight-ball. With a flurry, I charged into my daughter’s bedroom intent on making up for lost time. Flicking on her bedroom lights, I didn’t even bother with my typical morning greeting.
     “Let’s go!” I barked over my shoulder. “Time to get up!” I yanked open her closet in the hunt for clothing. Instead of pleasantries or cheerful chatter, a grumbling noise met my ears. A whining wail issued forth from under the bedcovers. I confess to all of you right now, I did not respond with gracious concern or empathy. Rather, I bristled with irritation and impatience.
     Sweet Pea who already possesses the flair for dramatics, has been struggling with seasonal allergies. Whenever her nose becomes blocked, it is as if the world ends and the sky is falling. Tears rain, sobs ensue, and wails abound. Needless to say, the end result to all of this is typically an even more stuffed nose.
     “Don’t cry,” I mechanically responded. “Sit up, blow yoru nose, drink your water, and go to the bathroom.” Understandably, my lack of compassion did not elicit a favorable outcome. Let us just say a minor morning skirmish commenced between mother and daughter. Yet even after the dust settled and tentative peace restored, I still marched, ordered, and barked my way through until my mission was accomplished…an empty house devoid of noise or complaint. 

​“Great and amazing are your deeds! Just and true are Your ways, oh King of the nations! Who will not fear, oh Lord, and glorify Your Name? For You alone are holy. All nations will come and worship You, for Your righteous acts have been revealed.” Revelation 15:3-4
 
Prayer Over Our Children
May my child see Your wonders and marvelous works, oh Lord. Make her victorious over all those who seek to prevail against her. I pray You will set a golden harp in her hand and fill her mouth with song. Let her proclaim Your great and marvelous deeds while she declares Your justice and truth, lauding You King over all the ages. Reveal your righteous acts, I plead, so she may give glory and bow down with all nations to worship You, who alone is holy. Oh God, when Your wrath is unfurled and Your glory and power fills the earth, shelter her in Your holy temple and dress her in clean, shining linens.
 
Not of Me
 
     After a week of absolute gluttony, laziness, and self-indulgence, I found myself pounding the treadmill. Arms pumping and muscles straining, my thoughts wandered over the past week. Spring Break came as a welcome diversion from the usual hustle and bustle. Yet with all its fun and leisure, I came away feeling empty and unfulfilled. This is not to say we hadn’t enjoy our time together. We had fun! Biking, swimming, movies, trips to parks, and eating out characterized our week of play. We slept-in, went to bed when we liked, and were the masters of our own time. Why then, did I feel so distant and empty? Why then did it feel like I was dangling from a precarious perch?