Pray


The bare trees are a silhouette in front of the grey. The beautiful mountain, the blue sky and the careless clouds are hiding behind the grey. I know they are there, but I can't see them. I want to see them because they make me feel. The grey just makes me want. My heart conveys a message to God. He knows my desires. He has them in his hands...both hands because they are many. The grey tempts me to fear, to despair. The prayer fights the temptation. The prayer is the weapon of hope and mobilization. It is the invisible power that I forget is there, that I often refuse to use. Why on Earth would I do that? Because I depend on my eyes too much. Maybe that's why we close them in prayer. I continue to peer behind that tree searching for some other color than grey. If I would just close my eyes and fight. My will is limited, but my prayers are potent. 

Like Fanny Crosby, have faith and close your eyes.

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