Tag Archives: Prayer

Beggars Would Ride

If wishes were horses beggars would ride
Prince Charming would come on the evening tide
Yet better than 1,000 wishes are prayers
Lifted in faith to a God who cares

One simple prayer brought Prince Charming to me
Thirty years later I look back and see
The wasted wishes that brought me naught
How prayer was the source of blessings I’ve got

So offer your wishes to the stars above
I’ll say my prayers to the great God of love

Today is my 30th Anniversary. The prompt at dVerse Poets Pub was to write about wishes. Well, wishes never got me anything, but my husband’s prayer to meet a nice girl he could marry the night we met brought us together.


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All Good Vacations Must End

It’s Haibun Monday at dVerse Poets Pub and Toni is calling for a haibun about everyday things with a true haiku at the end. I did my best. We’ll see what she thinks. This haibun is looking forward to later in the summer when I’ll get to enjoy the labors of this past vacation week.


Vacations can’t last forever. This one has been wonderful, spent planting flowers, including 14 Lantana. But eventually the daily routine returns. Preparations for the work day, each important for different reasons. Start with coffee, my daily devotional, and treats and a game of fetch with the dog. Crazy cat gets in on the action, too. Then shower and teeth brushing makes one presentable to the world. Must select just the right outfit to be warm enough in an air-conditioned office but not too hot to sit outside in the summer sun for lunch. Most importantly, I must pause for prayer—a chat with God about the day ahead—preparation for whatever might come my way. Oh, and can’t forget to pack that lunch. What good leftovers are in the fridge? No leftovers, but mmmm, there’s hummus, crackers, fresh snap peas from the farmers’ market, crisp jicama slices, and of course a cold sparkling water. All packed to go, give the dog his leaving bone and the cat a few treats. Finally, it’s out the front door to the car with just a moment to enjoy the potted flowers on the front step.

Varied Lantana
Lovely summer dalliance
They’ve grown large since June


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Set Free

She drove away from the pizza place
joyful in the knowledge that she had been set free.

No dark cloud appeared.

She realized she was humming along,
tapping her foot to the beat.

As she waited for her pizza to go,
Bad Company played on the radio.

One day, she stopped to get a pizza
on her way home from work.

She felt a weight lifted and joy return.

When she awoke, she knelt and prayed
for the strength to forgive.

One night she dreamed of forgiveness
and knew it was a message from God.

She pondered taking her own life
because she thought she was forever broken.

She spent years in darkness and anger.

She was never the same; whenever she heard Bad Company
a dark cloud would descend upon her.

Afterwards, he drove her home
and left her broken upon her doorstep.

Bad Company played on the radio.

He assaulted her in the front seat of his Lincoln.

He asked if she wanted to go to a party
and she said yes because he seemed nice.


The NaPoWriMo prompt today is to write a story in reverse. I couldn’t help but turn each line of this semi-autobiographical story into a verse.


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My Word Wall

If all you knew of me was my poetry then what would you see?

If we had never met would my words alone let you understand my regret?

And would that be all you’d see, would I seem to you sad and small behind my word wall?

Do I reveal my joy in the verse that I employ or do you find my words simply annoy?

If you knew me in the flesh and personally would you be surprised by my poetry?

My word wall and pen keep you out or let you in depending on the mood I’m in.

Yet always there’s my God, intertwined, some think it odd, without Him I’m a fraud.

But there’s so much more to me that I’ll never let you see despite your solemn plea.


Decided to write a second poem for today, perhaps because I’m a little sad that NaPoWriMo2016 is coming to an end soon. This is my take on long-line poetry.


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Cry, Pray, Write

So you want to know how to write a memoir. Well here’s what I know.

Step one: Ask yourself if you’re nuts.  If yes, proceed to step two.

Step two: Attend a writing conference for inspiration.

Step three: Go home and cry because you don’t want to reveal the level of detail one conference speaker said you would have to.

Step four: Pray and ask God for direction.

Step five: Write and self-publish an autobiographical poetry book that vaguely addresses the story you want to write.

Step six: Tell yourself the poetry book is a sufficient memoir because, after all, we don’t know what Paul’s thorn was either.

Step seven: Have several people ask when you’re going to write your story.

Step eight: Write an outline of your story in your Color Notes app on your phone, then write two book proposals, one for your memoir and one for a devotional.

Step nine: Attend another writers conference and pitch your book ideas to editors and agents.

Step ten: Get sidetracked for three months working on a “marketable” idea from the agent, ignoring advice from a spiritual writing mentor.

Step eleven: Get further sidetracked writing and self-publishing a holiday poetry book.

Step twelve: Lie awake at night running scenes in your head of what you need to write, but not get up to actually write them down because you don’t want to disturb the sleeping dog.

Step thirteen: Tell your friends and family you’ve decided to write your memoir. (This step may be optional, but is helpful if you’re the kind of person who once they’ve said they are doing something has to do it.)

Step fourteen: Decide you need to learn more about the craft of memoir writing.

Step fifteen: Read memoir by spiritual mentor from writing conference.

Step sixteen: Read another memoir, and a book about how to write memoir, and another memoir, and another book about how to write memoir, then start reading a third memoir but decide it’s not believable and make a mental note not to write your memoir that way.

Step seventeen: Take advice from book on memoir writing and simply start writing one paragraph, one scene at a time.

Step eighteen: Get into text discussion with a friend who suggests yet another book on memoir writing you should read. Order said book on your Kindle, realize what you’ve ordered is actually a different book by that author, then order the paperback of the first book from Amazon.

Step nineteen: Write poems about writing memoir.

Step twenty: Stop worrying that your first draft is terrible (because as Anne Lamott says, they all are),  and resolve to write, edit, rewrite, and persevere.

I’m afraid that’s as far as I’ve gotten so you’ll have to come back next year for the remaining steps.


The NaPoWriMo prompt for today is to write a “How To” poem. Since I am in the process of writing (or trying to write) my memoir, I thought I’d share a little step-by-step how-to on how to do it.


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Servant King

Jesus became a servant King
When He washed His disciples feet
This act of love was oh so sweet

Forgiveness His mighty wellspring
As He did sup and share the cup
And with the disciples He’d sing

Earned the right to the judgment seat
When He became a servant King


At dVerse Poets Pub today Victoria is reviving the Octain Refrain for Meeting the Bar. It is a perfect form for my Maundy Thursday poem.


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Holy Week

On Sunday He was lauded as King
Hosanna the crowd did sing to Him

On Monday He taught in the temple square
in parables of sons and tenants and wedding feasts

On Tuesday His authority was questioned
by those clinging desperately to their own

On Wednesday He taught the greatest commandment
was love of God, and love of one’s neighbor was second

On Thursday He supped with His disciples
washed their feet and prayed His Father’s will

On Friday they crucified Him, we crucified Him
with the multitude of sins He willingly paid for

On Saturday His followers hid away afraid
grieving a loss they didn’t at all understand

On Sunday, oh sweet Sunday
He rose again, He is risen indeed

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The Notebook

The small notebook languished
at the bottom of a dark drawer
its pages filled with
lists of vegetables, partial poems

Ingredients lists for salads and stews
long since cooked and eaten
but not necessarily forgotten

Poem bits inspired late at night
by verses careening through
the writer’s mind in wakefulness

Ideas for the next great
inspirational Christian bestseller
scribbled in haste at a stoplight

Prayers for loved ones
some long gone
others still in need of those
languishing prayers


The Tuesday Poetics prompt at dVerse Poets Pub today calls for writing a poem that includes one line from the poem Burning the Old Year by Naomi Shihab Nye. I was going to wait until tomorrow to write this so it could be my Lenten poem for tomorrow, but after reading Nye’s poem I couldn’t get this poem out of my head. I chose the line “lists of vegetables, partial poems.” So here it is, an extra for today.


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Fearless and Afraid

I am afraid and fearless
I wonder why God delays so long
I hear the Holy Spirit speak
I see the answer to all my prayers
I want my answer now
I am afraid and fearless

I pretend that all is well within
I feel God’s tug at my heart for truth
I touch all that I know will be
I worry my impatience will be my undoing
I cry for those I love who are lost
I am afraid and fearless

I understand that God is sovereign
I say that His ways are perfect and true
I dream of the day when I will no longer doubt
I try to trust Him in all circumstances
I hope for the day when He is victorious
I am fearless and afraid


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A Heart Like Mine

Praise and thanksgiving
for my good deeds
can quite easily lead
to thinking I’m good enough
all on my own
I don’t need God’s mercy

Comparing myself
to the evil all around me
can inflate my self-esteem
just the same

But when I peel back
the layers of my heart
Peer at what’s beneath
the kindness and goodness
that on the surface reside
I see a different story

I see petty jealousy
that another should have
an opportunity for rest
that I feel I’ve been denied

Another layer and I see
anger and unforgiveness
over a recurring transgression
even though Jesus commanded
I forgive to infinity

Another layer and I see
bitterness and frustration
towards those I claim to love
Yet I hold onto this
record of wrongs
revisiting each transgression
to fuel the fire of indignation

And I see doubt
that God will ever answer
my prayers for change
my prayers for healing
I see impatience
quickness to anger

I see a heart
that wants to be
consoled with food—cookies and chips
with entertainment distractions
and all those things
that do my body and soul
no earthly or heavenly good

As I peel back the layers
I see a heart in desperate need
of a Savior and of mercy
and I wonder at His patience
with a heart that’s prone to wander
I wonder at His grace
and delay of justice
for a heart like mine

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