Gentle clouds roll in over a dry, barren wilderness. The tepid atmosphere is transforming. The first pitter-pattering of rain on the hard, cracked ground is heard. The water droplets yearn to penetrate into the depths of the Earth. They are succumbed to the pull of gravity; yet into the matrix of soil, they can not immerse. Alas, the quenching droplets decide to just sit.
Let not one drop go to waste. Make ready the ground! Till up the Earth! Aerate the soil! Be ready for the next rainfall; that your parched land will be thirsty no more.
Our hearts become hardened with the pressures of our world. The pollution of our environment forces walls to be built within. Lord, make us ready.
In Hebrews 3:7, The Holy Spirit says, “Today when you hear His voice, don’t harden your hearts.”
Lord, today I cry out to you: soften my heart. I want to hear your voice. Holy Spirit, tear down the walls I have built within me. Plow through the rock that is a barrier between us, Father God. I want more of you. I need you.
Amen
*If you said this prayer for the first time today, or the first time in a long time; please let me know! I would love to come along beside you and celebrate with you!
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Love it!!!
I Love this so much Candi, I’m your other mother :), you make me proud with love and hope. Can’t wait to see you soon. God blessed me with the best son Brent, and the best daugther- in – law, so I am your mom, love you sweet girl and keep on with what your doing. Love you Momma Marie .
This is so beautiful – I love the visual at the beginning – I’m filled with hope when I read about the tepid atmosphere changing. It leads my heart to break for the land so hard that the water just sits on top. It leads my heart to break for the precious water droplets, vulnerable now to precipitation.
I feel compelled by the call to till the soil. Tilling is such hard work! What if I don’t know how? What if I don’t have an oxen and plough or even a hoe? A sprinkle and my weak arms are not enough! Oh, I fall on my knees and find myself praying for a rain and flood to soften the soil. My prayer is my oxen. My prayer is my plough. My prayer is my hoe. My God is all the strength turning stone to dust (Ezekiel 36:26).
I go back and re-read your post again – it’s exactly how you plough, “Lord I cry out to you.”
Glory to God. It is His desire and good, kind way.