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Dear
Lord,
We're still hoping we'll wake up. We're still
hoping we'll open a sleepy eye and think, What a
horrible dream.
But we won't, will we, Father? What we saw was
not a dream. Planes did gouge towers. Flames did
consume our fortress. People did perish. It was
no dream and, dear Father, we are sad.
There is a ballet dancer who will no longer
dance and a doctor who will no longer heal. A
church has lost her priest, a classroom is minus
a teacher. Cora ran a food pantry. Paige was a
counselor and Dana, dearest Father, Dana was
only three years old. (Who held her in those
final moments?)
We are sad, Father. For as the innocent are
buried, our innocence is buried as well. We
thought we were safe. Perhaps we should have
known better. But we didn't.
And so we come to you. We don't ask you for
help; we beg you for it. We don't request it; we
implore it. We know what you can do. We've read
the accounts. We've pondered the stories and now
we plead, Do it again, Lord. Do it again.
Remember Joseph? You rescued him from the pit.
You can do the same for us. Do it again, Lord.
Remember the Hebrews in Egypt? You protected
their children from the angel of death. We have
children, too, Lord. Do it again.
And Sarah? Remember her prayers? You heard them.
Joshua? Remember his fears? You inspired him.
The women at the tomb? You resurrected their
hope. The doubts of Thomas? You took them away.
Do it again, Lord. Do it again.
You changed Daniel from a captive into a king's
counselor. You took Peter the fisherman and made
him Peter an apostle. Because of you, David went
from leading sheep to leading armies. Do it
again, Lord, for we need counselors today, Lord.
We need apostles. We need leaders. Do it again,
dear Lord.
Most of all, do again what you did at Calvary.
What we saw here on that Tuesday, you saw there
on that Friday. Innocence slaughtered. Goodness
murdered. Mothers weeping. Evil dancing. Just as
the ash fell on our children, the darkness fell
on your Son. Just as our towers were shattered,
the very Tower of Eternity was pierced.
And by dusk, heaven's sweetest song was silent,
buried behind a rock.
But you did not waver, O Lord. You did not
waver. After three days in a dark hole, you
rolled the rock and rumbled the earth and turned
the darkest Friday into the brightest Sunday. Do
it again, Lord. Grant us a September Easter.
We thank you, dear Father, for these hours of
unity. Disaster has done what discussion could
not. Doctrinal fences have fallen. Republicans
are standing with Democrats. Skin colors have
been covered by the ash of burning buildings. We
thank you for these hours of unity.
And we thank you for these hours of prayer. The
Enemy sought to bring us to our knees and
succeeded. He had no idea, however, that we
would kneel before you. And he has no idea what
you can do.
Let your mercy be upon our President, Vice
President, and their families. Grant to those
who lead us wisdom beyond their years and
experience. Have mercy upon the souls who have
departed and the wounded who remain. Give us
grace that we might forgive and faith that we
might believe.
And
look kindly upon your church. For two thousand
years you've used her to heal a hurting world.
Do it again, Lord. Do it again.
Through Christ, Amen.
As
written by Max Lucado for America Prays, a
national prayer vigil held Saturday, September
14, 2001. Permission to copy not only granted
but encouraged.
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"Create
in Me a Clean Heart" by Songs of Praise
used with permission
Prepared
with Love, Bible Devotional
Copyright
© 2001, 2002
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