Forgive me my sins
And restore my communion with You.
Hear me, Lord,
And help the one
I ask you to tonight.
The Desert Flower blooms
In anger and wrath;
Her petals shake violently
As strong storms batter her.
She grasps the earth
In a tenacious grip,
Hardened by many years
Of struggle and turmoil.
She is angry,
And bitter,
And alone
In her heart.
Her rages spill out of her
Like poison,
Infecting all who
Are caught in its wake.
Her thorns make others bleed;
She is ever on the defensive
Against evils and insults
Real and imagined.
Lord,
Months ago,
She told me
About her youth,
And I saw in an instant
The fount of grief,
The river of wormwood
From which her roots drank
At too tender an age.
I saw
How it had twisted her,
Marring the beauty of her petals,
Scarring too deep for mere words.
Lord,
Father,
You are the Creator of all things,
And You have promised
To restore the barren places.
All things are open before You:
Our hearts,
Our lives,
Our futures.
Father,
I beg You,
Begin the work
Of restoring your Desert Flower
In this life, right now.
Oh Lord,
Let her learn to seek
Deeper drinks
Within You.
Let a measure of
Living Water
Soften her hardness,
Quell her anger,
And teach her it's okay
To let down her guard.
Make her see
That her anger
Cannot forever protect her,
Nor can it save her.
Let Your Love
Burn like the sun,
Nourishing her leaves,
And causing vibrant petals,
Brighter than Solomon's array,
To burst forth.
Lord God,
You give graciously
And abundantly.
I ask You
To heal this Desert Flower,
So that she may see
The Truth and Beauty and Love
That is the Ultimate Reality
Of who You are,
And upon which
The whole Universe is built.
Touch her, Lord.
Heal her, Lord.
Restore her, Lord,
As You have promised to do
To the barren places...
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