I love to see pink

between twilit tree branches
praising God anew.

Mary Harwell Sayler, © 2016
#aahcoo
…

In the middle of the night

I call to You, Lord,
welcoming Your presence –
inviting Your light.

Mary Harwell Sayler, © 2016
#aahcoo

…

Talking to three sandhill cranes

while walking down our sand road,
I keep my voice low – like God
did with Elijah – no wind,
no quaking earth, but a small
still Voice, Which does not frighten
but speaks decibels of love.

by Mary Harwell Sayler, © 2016
#aahcoo

…

Jesus walked through flames for us.

He brought calm
to the terrorized planes.
The Twin Towers came down
around Him, holding
your husband, your wife, your child.

by Mary Harwell Sayler, © 2016

...

A magnolia pod came down hard

on the deck
bouncing between the three of us!
Praise You for protection, Lord –
from this close miss
and all those we cannot see.

by Mary Harwell Sayler, © 2016

…

Lord, I can’t seem to focus

on anything today
until I see You
as my epicenter.
Help me erupt into praise!

by Mary Harwell Sayler, © 2016

…

Thumbs don’t seem important, Lord

until we lose one
or a stiff joint begins to bend
like a rusted hinge.

How brilliantly
You have made us, and yet
we cringe at the sight
of our roller-coaster-looking skin.

Can any sin compare to our lack
of praise?

Forgive us, Lord, for thinking thumbs
are not important
or forgetting how much we need them
to open an obstinate jar or push
in a thumb tack or click our fingers in time
to music.

Praise You, Lord, for placing
flexible thumbs on hands
intended to serve You.

Help us to give
a thumbs-up to every part
of the brilliantly beautiful
Body of Christ.

by Mary Harwell Sayler, © 2016

…

God fell in love with me

and you and them!

We did nothing
to deserve it.

Sin marred our skin
and made us unattractive,
but God looked through
the blemishes and took
away every mark against us,
so we could be happy
enough with ourselves
to believe in His love.

What a joy! What a wonder!
What a relief to be loved
for our truest selves,
thanks be to God!

by Mary Harwell Sayler, © 2016

The heavens belong to You, O Lord,

and You’ve given the earth
to the children of mankind,
but we are not kind.

We’ve tarred the land
with roads and killed
what scared us and tilled
under trees and drained
swamps and fueled the
ozone with jet streams.

What’s wrong with us?
Can’t we stop rejecting
the bats feeding on bugs
the snakes reducing rats,
the politicians in need
of prayers and protecting.

Praise the Lord! Praise
You, Lord!
Nothing is wrong with You!

by Mary Harwell Sayler, © 2016

…

Jesus asked, Why?

Why did you doubt Me?
Why did you have little faith?
Don’t you know I Am?

Oh, Lord, heal my unbelief!
Help me raise my eyes to You.
Help me feel relief in praise.

by Mary Harwell Sayler, © 2016
#aahcoo
…

I want to walk on water

but I cannot see Your face.
Grace me with Your presence, Lord.
Reach out Your hand,
and raise me into praise.

Mary Harwell Sayler, © 2016
#aahcoo

The owl did not call my name

but flew by without a sound –
barely above the ground – before
landing on a lower branch
of the cedar we call “Leb,”
then turning its back to me
to display grey-brown feathers
dappled in white to match
the tree’s catch of sun.

The owl still did not call
me nor ask the important
question: Who? Who?
But I know, Lord, it’s You –
The One Who truly
knows my name.

Mary Harwell Sayler, © 2016

…