"Move the Hands of God by Prayer"

In the silence
God invites without words.
My prayers are often noisy affairs
Filled with faces, memories, love
And feelings of sorrow.

I am often overwhelmed
And moved to tears
By the poignancy of a fleeting thought.
My heart tells me
That what seems insignificant
Holds a treasure.

God’s gifts often come in disguise
Like the beggar at the door
Who is Christ.
The Spirit says minister
Here in this place at this time;
Reach back through the years
To move the hand of God
By prayer.

In prayer, I am with God,
The Lord of All, including Time.
I may have missed or miss used
Moments to do good,
But God reigns in Eternity,
As present in the Past
As He is in my heartbeat.

God’s hands are not tied
By the flow of Time.
He is there and here
And Eternal Now.

My lowly prayer,
Clothed in The Name,
Breaks down the wall
That stands between
My need or regret, and blessing.

Like the little donkey
That carried the King of Kings,
My humble prayer sets in motion
The flow of grace to love,
To heal, to mend, to restore
And bless anew.