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    A Book of Simple Prayers
    A Book of Simple Prayers
    A Book of Simple Prayers
    Ebook171 pages1 hour

    A Book of Simple Prayers

    By Gloria Gaither

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    About this ebook

    Life greets us in different ways each day: We experience joy, confusion, doubt, and grief. We walk through seasons of loneliness and times of closeness with God, family, and friends. Each event, the birth of a new baby, the death of a loved one, the sound of a familiar melody, can be an occasion for prayer. In A Book of Simple Prayers, beloved songwriter Gloria Gaither shares the prayers she has prayed in moments like these. At times questioning, playful, trusting, or anxious, this collection of Gaither's prayer poetry is a medley of honest and openhearted conversation with God. With her renowned mastery of language and matchless instinct for just the right turn of phrase, she invites us to pray along with her, expressing our hopes and heartaches to the God who listens.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBaker Publishing Group
    Release dateJul 1, 2008
    ISBN9781441266279
    A Book of Simple Prayers
    Author

    Gloria Gaither

    Gloria Gaither is an award-winning lyricist, author, scriptwriter, former adjunct professor of songwriting at Anderson University, recording artist with the celebrated Gaither Trio for thirty years, mother, and grandmother. Gloria has written My Father’s Angels and Ordinary Baby, Extraordinary Gift for Zonderkidz, as well as Because He Lives, Let’s Make a Memory, 365 Meditations for Mothers, What My Parents Did Right, and Let’s Hide the Word, plus numerous magazine articles. Gloria and her husband, Bill, live in Alexandria, Indiana.

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      Book preview

      A Book of Simple Prayers - Gloria Gaither

      1

      Restore my soul,

      O God

      Restore my soul, O God—

      Breathe life back into my deflated lungs—

      Pour water into my tissues, for I am depleted of Your spirit,

      I am dehydrated of the Water of Life.

      I am ravenous with hunger, yet I am weak and too weary

      to search for food.

      Take me by the hand and lead me to Your supply.

      I am not asking for manna dropping from the sky—

      I’m not asking for streams gushing from a desert rock—

      I don’t need a miracle to make me believe—

      I know You, Yourself, are the nourishment I need.

      Lead me to You, God.

      Your Son has already left the pantry door open—

      Give me a hand and lead me in that direction.

      2

      I praise You,

      O God

      I praise You, O God,

      For giving every creature what it needs.

      The gulls float on the ocean that is teeming with fish.

      They walk the sandy beach where Your waves have carried

      and buried scallops and clams.

      The fish swim where the minnow

      and tiny shrimp hatch in over-sufficient numbers.

      The whales find what they need in each gulp of seawater . . .

      and it’s already salted!

      For the plant-eaters, there is kelp.

      The dove picking along the grasses finds the seeds of the grasses,

      while the pelican scoops along with his sharp eyes

      that spot a silvery movement in the water

      a hundred feet away.

      Am I, too, sitting right on top of what I need?

      Has the marvel of Your provision placed me

      in the richest feeding ground

      for my particular hungers?

      Forgive me for expecting more miracles when I am a miracle,

      living in a bed of miracles.

      Today You will feed me where I am.

      3

      Come when

      my lips tell

      You to go

      Come; come when my lips tell You to go.

      Come, when I turn my back and walk away.

      Come, when I embrace the night;

      come bring the dawn of some new day.

      Come with natal freshness when my soul is withered,

      dry with age—

      When I am stuck within my story,

      come thou hand that turns the page.

      Come, thou tides of restless mercy,

      wash up on my shifting sand.

      Come when I, unsteady, waver—

      be the strong and staying hand.

      I—unfaithful, fickle—wander after glitter, charming grace—

      come, throw pretense into shadow

      by the blinding beauty of Your face.

      4

      Make me sensitive

      to the vibrations

      Make me sensitive to the vibrations of the souls

      that sound around me.

      The sounds a soul makes are often faint . . . and tentative.

      If I am not listening, I may not hear them at all.

      Let me hear the broken chords,

      the notes slightly out of tune.

      Sometimes mouths make noise loud and brash

      to cover the quivering tones of the injured soul.

      Let me listen for hurting whimpers

      between the blasts of bawdy jokes

      and boisterous brags.

      Tune the strings of my own heart, Lord, so they may vibrate

      in sympathetic tones to the timid, tentative tunes

      of children and novices.

      When soul sounds are out of range

      for my human receptive capabilities,

      may the vibrations around me,

      bypassing my instrument,

      move my spirit.

      And when I hurry down life’s thoroughfare

      past a pocket of joyful sounds,

      let me stop to dance!

      5

      You can

      only produce

      good things

      Lord, You can only produce good things.

      You said that when I am grafted into You, it is Your life that flows,

      Your sap coming from Your vine that feeds me, the branch.

      The buds, the flowers, the fruit that grows on my branch

      are natural results of Your living fluids keeping me alive.

      How, then, can I produce bad fruit?

      How can I produce any fruit?

      When I disconnect from You, I’m a dead stick.

      When I remain grafted and growing, I produce Your fruit.

      So if there is fruit,

      I am in You and the fruit is always good.

      If there is no fruit, I am kindling. That’s all.

      Be my life, Lord, and I will share Your fruit with anyone

      who is hungry.

      Make my fruit grow profusely because no scar tissue in the graft

      obstructs the life-flow.

      6

      Bless the children

      Bless the children.

      Bless their questions and their un-jaded answers.

      Bless their hands that hold my face

      and peer guilelessly into my eyes.

      Bless their lips that kiss without embarrassment,

      their arms that hug without restraint,

      their mouths that shape the deep truth in simple words—

      I love you.

      Bless their minds that know no roadblocks

      to their quest for knowledge,

      no obstacles to their curiosity,

      and no cynicism to block their trust.

      While they still know purely, let the children teach us.

      While they believe openly, let the children pray for us.

      While they trust without restriction, let the children lead us.

      While they know no disillusionment, let the children love us,

      that we may be healed,

      that we may trust again . . .

      that we may regain our faith . . .

      that we may recover our innocence . . .

      that we may become children of the Father of Life.

      7

      Forgive us all

      for the damage

      we’ve done

      Lord, forgive us all for the damage we’ve done to our world,

      to Your world.

      So many are suffering from our ignorance and carelessness.

      Cancer is epidemic from the toxins we eat and breathe.

      Animals are disappearing from their natural habitats

      as we cover the grasses

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