Move the Hands of God by Prayer

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.

I am with God,  
The Lord of All,  
Including Time.  
I may have missed or misused  
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.