Out of the Mire

Dear God, save me from my trouble and sin!

For the floodwaters are up to my chin

And I’m quickly sinking in the quicksand,

Unable to find a footing on land.

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Plans

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This morning was one of those mornings when as soon as I wake up, God has my attention. Before I had made it from my bed to the doorway, there was a prayer forming almost subconsciously on my lips, “Help me be pure; help me be true; help me live the way You want me to. Help me speak life; help me speak love; help me to be gentle as a little dove.”

And then in the shower, this poem was birthed, and I chose to share it with you. Continue reading