John 1:12-13

But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God,  who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.

How precious are you?

God breathed you into life.

How important are you?

God dreamed you into being.

Whose child are you?

The One who crafted you out of His will.

The One who made you and shaped you.

The One who has carried you.

The One who has loved you.

The One who cries with you.

The One who holds your tears

and carries your pain.

The One who has paid your debts in full.

The One who has already purchased your future

and now holds it wrapped and ready.

The One who can’t wait for Christmas,

who can't wait to see your face

when you tear off the wrapping paper

and rip open that gift.

You are a child of God.

You belong to no one else.

You are loved with an eternal and infinite love.

Amen.

Philippians 4:13

I can do all things through him who strengthens me.

It’s enough.

Some days, all God needs

you to do is wake up and open

your eyes when the sunrise streams

through the blinds and kisses

you first thing in the morning.

It’s enough.

Some days, all God needs

is for you to walk into the kitchen,

pour yourself a glass of orange juice

and take a sip, one of those sweet

pulpy sips that feels less like drinking

and more like chewing, like you've

taken a bite of the ripest, juiciest orange.

It’s enough.

Some days, all God needs

you to do is step outside

during a sun shower, tilt back

your head, open your mouth

and taste both the sun and the rain.

It’s enough.

Some days, all God wants

you to do is sit with Him

for a while, there in the orchestra

seats down by the water’s edge

and listen to the symphony

the angels play as the trees shake

the morning mist from their leaves.

It’s enough.

Some days, it’s enough

that you remembered to breathe,

because maybe tomorrow,

you’ll have the strength to sing.

Amen.

Psalm 139:4

Even before a word is on my tongue,

    O Lord, you know it completely.

Little Girl, wake now

and listen.

I have Good News to give

you, to calm your restless mind,

to ease your aching heart

and mend your torn spirit.

God knows.

He knows your prayers

before you speak them.

He knows your prayers

before you can even open

your mouth to breathe them.

He knows your every hope,

your every wish.

He knows all your dreams

before you can even dream them.

And so, He cups your face

in His weathered hands.

He looks you in the eyes

and slowly blinks.

He takes a deep, rich breath,

holds it and then gives

back His spirit—

and oh, how the breath of God

smells like cinnamon and pine

and all things Christmas—

and then He says simply,

I know.

Amen.

Philippians 3:14

I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus.

Dear child,

Look.

Do you see Him?

There.

Standing at the front door.

The streetlights are flickering on.

The bats are flying low.

The last embers of the sunset

are disappearing now below the horizon.

It’s time to come home.

Listen.

Do you hear Him?

He’s calling you.

He’s calling you by name,

the name only He knows,

the name He placed inside you

before you were even born,

the name nestled and tucked

away inside your soul,

the name that means Beloved.

And Beloved, it’s time to come home.

It’s been a very long day,

and I can see some ripped jeans

and skinned knees, a runny nose

and a pair of sleepy eyes.

I can hear a rumbling belly,

and some shallow breaths.

You’re hungry and thirsty and tired

and now won’t you come home to rest?

He’s waiting for you.

The bread is on the table.

The hot water is flowing into the tub.

The sheets have been pulled back on the bed.

It’s time to come home

to the place where you are forever loved,

to the place where you are forever safe,

to the place where God waits, eternally.

Amen.

John 20:22

When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit.”

Mary.

The sweetest sound I ever heard

was that morning You said my name, Lord,

that morning when I found You,

framed by the rising sun,

a silhouette that was more light

than shadow,

and I did not see You.

and I did not know You,

still lost in grief as I was.

But then You said my name,

and I ached with sweet love

and longing for You.

Thomas.

The sweetest sight I ever saw

was that day You sat across from me, Lord,

that day when all stories became true

and You leapt off the pages of fiction

and became more real than real.

The sweetest sight I ever saw

was You, Lord, once broken and now healed,

and Your love for us inscribed there

on Your hands, and there in Your side,

and there in Your eyes,

when You looked at me

and all I could see was love.

Peter.

The sweetest kiss, I ever felt,

was Your kiss, Lord.

It was a mother’s kiss, a brush of the lips

across the forehead,

a prayer for a good night,

a promise that we’ll see each

other again in the morning.

Your kiss, Lord, was the sweetest kiss,

and the Holy Spirit, the sweetest gift,

a gift unearned, a gift not to be wasted,

a gift that grows as we grow,

and transforms us in unimaginable ways.

Your kiss, Lord is that sweet

Breath of the Spirit.

Oh how I need to be filled with Your spirit, Lord.

Oh how I need to breathe in that sweet breath of Heaven.

Oh how I need You, Lord.

Amen.

Job 33:4

The spirit of God has made me,

    and the breath of the Almighty gives me life.

Thanks be to God,

who has made all things new,

whose Spirit has made me,

whose Breath has given me life.

Thanks be to God,

who woke me from my sleep,

who nudged me into wakefulness,

and with joy in His eyes

and playfulness in His voice,

said simply, “Little girl, get up.”

Thanks be to God,

who saved me from the quarry,

who smashed the rock from around my heart

and revealed the kaleidoscope of colors,

the stunning lightshow that is my soul.

Thanks be to God,

who took the weight from off my chest,

the burden from off my shoulders,

who unlocked the chains from around my ankles,

who lifted me up, pointed to the sky and said, “Fly.”

Thanks be to God,

who freed me from my sins,

who opened the door to the prison

cell that I had thrown myself into

and asked for nothing in return.

Thanks be to God,

the One I now follow,

the One I have always loved,

the One who makes my heart beat faster,

the One who brings breath to my lungs.

Thanks be to God,

the One who saved me,

the One who holds me,

the One who never leaves me,

the One who is forever faithful to me.

Thanks be to God.

Amen.

Psalm 119:49-50

Remember your word to your servant,

    in which you have made me hope.
This is my comfort in my distress,
    that your promise gives me life.

Your promise gives me Life, Lord.

Your promise tills the soil

of my heart and plants

the seeds of Salvation there.

Your promise gives me Hope.

Your words fill my lungs

and now the air I breathe in

and now the air I breathe out

is the very breath of Your Spirit.

Your promise is Living Water.

It is streams in the desert

and rushing rapids that fill

the craters of despair in my soul.

Your promise washes over me.

It cleanses me, even though I am drowning,

and then, it lifts me up and it carries me through

the canyons before setting me on the shore.

Your promise gives me Life, Lord.

Your Words are guaranteed forever,

for the infinite eternity that You inhabit,

for Your infinite eternal love that powers

the universe and gives birth to stars.

In this, I live.

In this, I love and am loved.

In this, You reign forever, Lord.

In this, I am free.

Amen.

Psalm 105:4-5

Seek the Lord and his strength;

    seek his presence continually.
Remember the wonderful works he has done,
    his miracles, and the judgments he has uttered.

I will pray unceasingly.

(Breathe)

I will seek unceasingly.

(Breathe)

I will praise unceasingly.

(Breathe)

I will give thanks unceasingly.

(Breathe)

With every breath.

With every blink.

With every heartbeat.

I will live Your miracles.

(Breathe)

I am a miracle.

(Breathe)

I am living proof of Your unfailing love.

(Breathe)

I am precious.

(Breathe)

I am wanted.

(Breathe)

And this I will proclaim.

With every breath.

With every blink.

When every sunrise the horizon

gives birth to.

I will wait for You.

(Breathe)

When others give up and go home,

(Breathe)

I will wait.

(Breathe)

With confidence.

With faith.

With wisdom.

With knowledge

that Your love is not some secret

withheld from many and reserved for a few.

Your love is present,

ever present.

And wherever You are,

I am already home.

Amen.

Genesis 28:16

Then Jacob woke from his sleep and said, “Surely the Lord is in this place—and I did not know it!”

Lord, I know You are here.

I know You are here

even when I cannot feel You.

I know Your presence

never leaves me.

I know Your presence,

Your spirit fills me.

Sometimes, I think it is Your essence

I recognize in that sweet earthly smell

that erupts from the ground after a rain.

Sometimes, I think it is Your touch

that I feel when the wind carries

that fine mist across the water

and drapes itself like a prayer shawl

across my shoulders.

I hear You, Lord.  I hear Your own prayer.

I hear You in the buzz of that fat, old bumblebee

gathering its morning harvest.

I hear You in the zip of the dragonfly

as it stops and darts and hovers

and finally settles on the lily pad.

Even in the silence, Lord,

when all I can hear is the pounding

of the blood in my ears,

and the rush of the air as I breathe,

when the only things that speak to me

are the creak of my back,

and the groaning of my heart,

and the tears begging to be freed,

even then, Lord, Your song

soars within me, and the hymn

You sing is one word … live.

And the refrain is simply … breathe.

You are here, Lord.

and I pray I feel Your presence

with every waking breath.

Amen.

Psalm 62:5

For God alone my soul waits in silence,

    for my hope is from him.

Rest now.

Silent still.

I know the storm outside

is loud and frightening.

Close your eyes.

Sleep now.

The storm may rage,

the windows shake with thunder,

but know that I will always keep you safe.

You can breathe now.

It’s all right, I promise.

Oh I know that lightning

is scary, the suddenness,

the way it crashes without warning

and floods the room with light.

But no storm lasts forever.

All storms eventually move on

or wear themselves out after kicking

and screaming through their little tantrum.

There is nothing

to be afraid of.

There is nothing here

that can hurt you,

not so long as I am

sitting here.

The storm will end.

The silence return,

and you will know

that I have been

here the whole time.

I have never left.

So, rest now.

Fear not.

Let hope fill

your heart instead.

And I will see you

in the morning.

Amen.

Genesis 2:7

Then the Lord God formed man from the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and the man became a living being.

Breathe into me, Lord.

Breathe into me the Breath of Life

and command me to live

as You commanded Adam.

Command me to live

as You commanded those

dry bones in the desert.

Fill my lungs with

Your Holy Breath

and set me on the path to proclaim

Your infinite love and glorious majesty.

Quench my thirst with Living Water.

Feed me with the Bread of Life.

Fill me, oxygenate me, revive me

with Your Holy Spirit.

Give me strength to soar.

Give me breath to sing.

Let my feet never touch the ground

for You carry me and lift me up.

Let me ride on the Breath of the Spirit.

Let me breathe the air that angels breathe.

Command me to live, Lord,

and I know my heart and lungs will listen.

Command me to live, Lord,

and fill me with Your love.

Amen.

2 Timothy 4:7

It was my dad who said to me a few months ago that he was not fond of the term “prayer warrior” because he saw those who practiced intercessory prayer less as warriors fighting a battle and more as medics or prayer first-responders. 

I so liked what he had to say that I actually modified it slightly to use on my own.  Yes, there are times when we are called to be prayer warriors, but most of the time I see myself as a spiritual first-responder.

2 Timothy 4:7

 I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.

Lord, I am not a warrior.

That fight is not within me.

But that does not mean

that I won’t charge into

the battle for You.

Lord, I am not a warrior.

You made me a medic.

You made me one of Your

Spiritual First-Responders.

I will fight for Your people Lord,

but I will do it with healing;

I will do it with prayer.

I will be gentle

and I will be kind.

I will be fervent, and I will

let Your Spirit shine, Lord.

I will speak softly,

but with passion.

I will deliver Your Spirit, Lord,

with my words.

I will deliver Your Spirit

with my love.

I will lift Your people up.

I will claim them in Your holy name.

I will stand by them.

I will stand with them.

I will not leave them alone.

I will keep the faith for them.

I will keep it safe and strong.

This race, Lord, is never over.

There is no finish.

I will never stop praying,

until that day You bring us home.

Amen.

Isaiah 41:13

For I, the Lord your God,
    hold your right hand;
it is I who say to you, “Do not fear,
    I will help you.”

Here, take My hand.

I have wondrous things

to show you, beginning here

with all the things you miss

in that fraction of a second

you lose when you blink.

Take My hand.

Come now, don’t be afraid.

You’ve been lost and wondering,

wandering for far too long,

but, have no worries, I know

the way through the woods.

After all, I created each and every tree.

I know every pinecone that has fallen

and every acorn pocketed in a squirrel’s cheeks.

Please, take My hand,

and let Me help you.

You are precious to Me.

You are so very precious to Me.

I cannot bear to see you suffer.

Stop hoarding that anger,

that sadness, that unbearable grief.

Your soul was not made

to carry all that pain.

Your pain is My pain

and every tear you cry,

flows again from My eyes.

Look, it’s getting dark

and the shadows are growing long.

Take My hand.

Let Me be your light.

You do not have to do this alone.

Dear, dear, child, draw near to Me now,

Draw near to Me.  Let Me hold you.

Let Me take this burden from you.

Amen.

Psalm 143:8

Let me hear of your steadfast love in the morning,

    for in you I put my trust.
Teach me the way I should go,
    for to you I lift up my soul.

To You, Lord, I lift up my soul.

To You—before the sun rises.

To You—before I even open my eyes.

To You—at my first waking breath.

To You—as my dreams fade and scatter

back to the shadowed memories of sleep.

To You—before the hunger of morning

wrestles me away.

To You, Lord, I confess

all my weaknesses, all my ugly truths,

all my doubts and all my fears,

all that troubles me and all that breaks me.

Every part of me that is broken,

I lift first thing to You, Lord.

Like a child handing over a torn teddy bear,

like a child weeping over a broken, beloved toy,

like a child who fears life will never be the same,

like a child who knows no better,

I hand all of these things—

I lift up all of these things to You.

And to You, Lord, I profess.

I am Yours.

All of me.

To remake.

To restore.

To make new,

so that joy may find its way

to me this morning,

so that Your love may break

through all the storms

that leave my heart in darkness,

so that the light of Your love

may break through and shine

and wake my soul and give it new life.

To You, Lord, I lift up my soul.

To You, Lord, I lift up my soul and sing.

Amen.

Romans 8:24-25

For in hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what is seen? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.

When I think of the future

these days, I am mostly afraid,

or anxious and doubtful.

The future is unknown

and the unknown right now,

seems vast and expansive,

a whole, dark universe

without a single star.

In the past, I have looked

to the future with hope.

I have dreamed sweet dreams

of the things that have yet to be.

But now, such daydreams seem

like a luxury only children can afford.

To invest in hope seems risky and foolish.

And besides, what can I do when

the only currency in my pocket is fear?

Even so, even as I stand there, staring

into the vast unknown, I wonder if it’s true.

I wonder if I am completely hopeless,

or if there remains a few pennies of hope,

hidden under the couch cushions

or lost and forgotten in the pockets

of the jeans I wore last winter.

Invested well, even the smallest bit of

hope can grow into the richest treasure.

Fear is plentiful but worthless.

But hope—even the tiniest amount—

is invaluable.

Yes, the unknown is the unknown,

impossible to see or predict.

We know nothing about the future,

but this—God is there waiting.

He is always there waiting.

Every path, every road you have

ever taken has always led to God.

God, our Omnipresent, Divine Host,

is with you in all times.  

Having carried you in the past,

He walks with you now in the present,

even as He waits for you in the future.

Always.

And knowing that—holding onto that—

gives me permission to dare,

to dare to dream, to dare to hope. 

Amen.

Hebrews 6:19

We have this hope, a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul ….

Lord, I have become untethered,

unmoored, set adrift during the storm,

and this boat I’m on is too small

and leaking and rocking and already

the seawater is pooling at my feet.

The boat tips and threatens

to flip as it climbs each wave,

before crashing back down again.

And it’s dark—it’s so very dark

and I cannot see—I’m crying, I think

but my tears taste like the ocean

and I can’t help but wonder if

the sea has already claimed me.

But then, as one wave settles down

and another has yet to rise in its place,

I see You Lord.  I see You, somehow,

standing there, a lighthouse shining

in the middle of the water.

The waves bow down to You,

crest then fall, before disappearing

and fleeing into the night.

The clouds part over You, revealing

the stars, revealing a universe

that wakes and blinks and rubs its eyes

as it, too, is called upon to shine.

The storm rages on around me,

but around You there is no darkness,

there is only infinite light and infinite hope.

And here You come to me, walking

on water, leaving behind a trail

of light as if You were a comet,

streaking across the night sky.

And everywhere You shine,

the darkness stops and stares

for a moment, before grabbing

its things and sprinting away.

And everywhere You walk, Lord,

the storm settles and stills,

the waves lie down and sleep.

And here I sit, in my boat,

soaked and shivering,

every part of me quivering

as You reach out Your hand

and pull me into Your embrace.

Hope, my anchor.

Hope, my savior.

Hope, my redeemer.

Amen.

Isaiah 44:3

For I will pour water on the thirsty land,

    and streams on the dry ground;
I will pour my spirit upon your descendants,
    and my blessing on your offspring.

Lord, right now, I need

to be bathed in the Spirit.

I need to be washed

clean by Holy Waters.

I need to stand under

the waterfalls of Holy Living

and listen as Your Spirit pounds

the earth around me.

I need to feel Your presence,

that thunder that rumble.

I need a Holy Spirit storm, Lord.

I need that Breath of the Spirit

to catch me, to lift me off my feet.

I need to be carried in the whirlwind.

I need to feel the earth lurch under me.

I need to be twisted and tossed.

I need to be thrown about.

I need to be lost, Lord.

I need to be out of control,

in order to know that You

are in control.

I need Your Holy Spirit Storm, Lord,

to shake me from my complacency.

But then, after the storm, I need You to still

the restlessness that grows within me.

I need You to howl at me Lord,

and I need You to whisper.

I need You to shout and sing,

and then I need You to whisper and hum.

I need Your Spirit, Lord.

Pour out to me Your Spirit.

Soak me, drench me, in Your love.

Amen.

Psalm 142:3

When my spirit is faint, you know my way.

When my spirit is faint,

when the Holy Spirit seems

more like the Holy Ghost,

Her presence muted,

phantom-like and fleeting,

Her grace and love, incorporeal,

incapable of being held,

when I am ready to turn my back

to it all and walk away rather

than risk being hurt again,

when I run from You, Lord,

when I leave the path, You

have set before me,

when I run into the darkened

woods and find myself lost now

in the brambles and shadow pines,

I remind myself of this …

You know my way, Lord.

And I am not lost from You.

I am the sheep. 

You are the shepherd.

You know my way.

And nothing—nothing—can

separate me from You.

You will always bring me home.

In my weakness and lost in the darkness,

I cry out to You, Lord—I cry out

one last desperate plea to be saved.

I cry—no words and sometimes my cry

is a howling pain and sometimes it is silent

as the spirit within me—yes—grows faint.

I cry out to You, Lord, and You come,

because You always come,

because You will never leave us

alone in that darkness. 

You will never leave us lost

no matter how many times

we run away.

You know my way, Lord.

Find me now, I pray.

Amen.

Romans 8:9

The Spirit of God dwells in you.

The Spirit of God dwells in you.

You are the Lord’s dwelling place.

You are where He rests His head at night.

You are who He comes home to.

You are His beloved.

To you He is always faithful.

You are the one He believes in.

You are the one He trusts completely.

No one knows you better.

No one will ever know you better.

His love for you is ever growing.

It fills and stretches the very

boundaries of the universe.

He carries your picture, bent, folded and faded,

in His wallet and shows everyone He meets.

He delights in everything you do.

And in the night, in the darkness and in the silence,

when you are too afraid to say His name,

when you are worried your spiritual well has run dry,

when you’re afraid the only answer you’ll receive is an echo,

He reaches out.

He places His hand over your heart.

He begs you to breathe.

He begs you to feel

the warmth of His spirit washing

over you, filling you to overflowing.

You cannot trouble God.

You cannot overstep.

Ask and you will receive. 

You are His home.

And you, He will never leave.

Amen.

Jeremiah 31:3

I have loved you with an everlasting love;

    therefore I have continued my faithfulness to you.

I am loved with an everlasting love.

I am loved.

Even now, I pause and close

my eyes and embrace these words.

I hold them close to me as I take a deep

breath and let Your essence, Lord, fill me.

Essence of the Spirit, distilled and pure,

fills every cell of me, oxygenates my soul,

and gives me that strength I need

to wake and race the rest of the world

to that mountaintop where I can touch

the sky and tickle the toes of angels.

I am weightless when I am filled

with Your love, Lord.

I am weightless and I can fly.

I can soar above the eagles.

The heavens shower me with stardust

that clings to me like pollen.

Each particle sings to me the song

that gave birth to the universe,

and for a moment I know what

it means to live,

what it means to be Your child, Lord,

created with love and born from love.

You have loved me— 

You have loved us with an everlasting love,

a love that outshines the stars themselves.

Oh … how we are loved.

Amen.

Jeremiah 31:2

The people who survived the sword found grace in the wilderness.

Lord, Hagar found You

in the wilderness.

She found You

when she was lost.

She found You

when she was broken.

She found You in the midst

of being overwhelmed by

fear and by loneliness. 

She found You, Lord, when

she thought she was forgotten,

a ghost already, drifting, invisible,

her son already orphaned.

She found You and she named You.

You are the God who sees me.

Lord, I too have wandered

the wilderness.

I too have been afraid.

I too have felt forgotten.

But, I too have found You,

and I know that You see me.

I know that I am seen.

You are Grace, Lord.

You have always been

Love,

and You have always been

Hope,

but now I see, You, Lord,

and I know that You are Grace.

It is Grace that follows me

into the wilderness when

I have lost hope and feel unloved.

It is Grace that sits with me

through all the hours

of my darkest nights

and takes my hand

and strokes my thumb

and does nothing,

and does everything,

just by being there.

Grace is unafraid,

is unashamed of me,

of the wilderness inside of me.

Grace follows me into

the wilderness, into that barren,

dry furnace of a landscape,

and digs her fingers into

the sand and fills those troughs

with living water,

digs her fingers into the sand

and fills those holes with

new seeds and life.

Grace washes me clean

with the waterfalls of redemption

and reveals, finally, my true self,

so that I might be seen,

so that I might see, finally—

Me.

Amen.