Writers 
Heal me from this grief. Teach me to wait, even when it feels like I am losing myself in this very shell of misery.
Help me to not fall, that mockery will not become of the consecrations and the obedience I have laid before you as one who is feeble without you.
Save me from this very darkness that throbs in my heart at the fall of the moon when silent echo comes as I sleep before the rise of the sun.
I am not as strong as I look, but your presence have become in me the very essence to which I stand to breathe.
So heal me, that streams of rivers can flow out of me to the point that men will be drowned in your joy, to as many that will drink from my fill.
And if this process is the factor to my becoming, as I reveal the things yet unseen, help me, that I will not negate your wisdom but be strengthened as I continue to follow.
Hold my hands like a child so that sonship will become of me as I grow to stand before men and kings in my time.
Take me to the place where hunger from your presence continues to prickle the hearts that are broken before you.
Let my heart be contrite enough to not lose sight with your love that stems from your very throne and presence.
Just like the morning dew, help me pay my dues of becoming you as I prepare to disciple the next generation in my time that are coming through.
For many are the plans of a man but it is of yours that prevails, so make me to hunger not upon the dead things that lies in light for in you and your word is the only light of life.
#Gratitude
#BY_THE_LORD
@emd
