I was preaching at the weekend on prayer. I had written a poem to illustrate a point. One of the ladies suggested afterwards that the poem deserved a wider audience. So here it is. You are the wider audience.
A Place to Pray.
A place to kneel, a place to pray,
A place to sing away the burdens that I feel
and leave the problems of my day.
A place to come just as the sun is risen.
A place to come and find my sins forgiven.
A place to whisper secret heart's desires.
A place to ask the the Lord to light my dying fires.
With noise and turmoil all around,
A place where silence is the only sound.
A place to hear His voice and know His peace.
A place to re-unite my will with His.
And when my mind is burdened and my soul oppressed,
A place to sense again that I am blessed.
A place to laugh, a place to weep, a place to share
my need:
A place of refuge from the storm,
A place to intercede.
A place to come at any hour,
A place to to be re-filled with grace and power.
"And where" you ask, "maybe this place of mine?"
"My friend, it is the altar of the Lord and you are welcome anytime."
Jubilate.
Ian
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