Thursday, April 30, 2009

A Prayer
























I lift my eyes to the hills.
Where does my help come from?
My help comes from the LORD,
who made heaven and earth.

~Psalm 121:1-2

I turn my face to God.

::

"One more hug, Momma," little hands pull my neck down next to his cheek. He smells like honey and dirt, sweat and fresh cut grass. A little man. Mercy from heaven.

::

My momma has a bulldog. All sweetness and snort, she brambles around a house that used to hold children. She's the baby. She is sick. Still sick after a looong time.

Children most frequently pray for grandparents and pets. So if you'd like to pretend you're a child for a moment, say a little prayer for Punkin the bulldog.

4 comments:

  1. Even the flowers will praise Him...

    Jesus, please heal Susan's little baby. Amen.

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  2. We've been talking about Punkin since lunch today, including the ever-popular kid question about whether or not dogs go to heaven. Emma's prayer was so sweet and sincere.

    It's our pleasure to pray for your mom's 4-legged baby. :)

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  3. Punkin has had a second surgery--the first surgery sustained a leak in the fix. Let all of this bring a glory and honor to our Father's Hoy Name. The doctors was optimistic. Let the children pray :)

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  4. The Punk came home last night an slept through the night for the first time in weeks. Eating and drinking and no puking. YAY! I am so thankful for a God who heals

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