Who prays for me? A few I know,
But many must hasten to heaven’s gate
Whose names I’d never guess—they go
To God on my behalf—up straight
Their intercessions rise.
I know because the angelic horde
Protects, defends, and circles ’round
Against the earthly, airy lord—
His fiery arrows fall to the ground—
Gabriel’s army flies.
The Master spared me many a hurt,
His mercy a sure reply to prayer—
Else I’d lay prone, face-down, in the dirt,
If not for a righteous multitude’s care—
Faithful, hidden allies.
Seven spirits, searching eyes,
Wheels spinning, whispers blowing,
Dwelling, changing, dwindling passions,
Filling with joy, to fight the demons,
Words of comfort, willing partner,
Peace descending, pain receding,
Holy Spirit to heaven leading.
By sin or silence, let us never block
The light of Christ! The world is lost in blackest
Night! Let burning lamps be set on high
For all to see, the church shining on the hill.
Inspired by an article by Joe Slater.
A need may go for years unmet,
Desires may never find their goal,
But no one constant in prayer should fret,
For God will meet the thirsty soul.
Some things occur by happenstance,
By Heaven others are decided;
Though life eternal is not by chance,
But personal choice divinely guided.
Search not God’s skies for special, personal signs
To know his will, as ancient man appealed
For knowledge in entrails and crooked lines.
The center: what God desires has been revealed —
He finds that way who goes to Scripture to read.
In the Bible’s words his perfect will is sealed;
There every soul shall find the pleasing deed.
Work ahead and do tomorrow’s
task today, not yesterday’s.
Avoid the lazy and late man’s sorrows—
While others pay, the planner plays.
I’ve put this stanza by Whittier in an image, to preserve the spacing. It comes from his poem “The Reformer” and spoke powerfully to me this morning.
The Son of Man was heaped with shame,
Stripped of dignity, the strain of sin
Upon his shoulders, pain of many:
The suffering Servant paid the ransom,
Freed all those in fear of death.
We share the Savior’s shame, his work
Scorned by worldly sinners, rejected
By rebellious scoffers, hated
By those determined to change his will—
Our hands hold the holy key.
For crime or sin, let no Christian suffer;
Let life be pure, our light undimmed
By doubt or fear or disobedience—
Let Christ be all and the Cross our glory,
Let heaven feed our daily hope.
The plan fulfilled, the promise kept,
The Christ has come, for man to accept;
Before time was, and space and matter,
The goal was set, by blood and water,
To save mankind in spiritual birth,
Good news to spread in all the earth;
No word of God’s has ever failed:
When to the cross the Lord was nailed,
He struck and crushed the serpent’s head,
In triumph raised from among the dead.
One glorious promise yet remains:
Christ comes to take us to heaven’s domains.