One of the Greatest gifts that Christ give to us is a prayful heart.
One that is desperately praying for the lost around us to find God.
For when we become desperately praying for others in our lives.
Miracles began to take place in these people lives revealing Christ.
For even Christ spends time praying for people to find him.
Even though he knows who shall find him and who shall not.
Still it might be that one prayer that put them into his people.
So allow Christ to transform you into an Mighty Prayer Warrior.
I am so thankful for all the Powerful Prayer Warriors in my life.
I love each of you all and thank God for each of you GBU all.

She was ninety-five and still alive
with belief if moving mountains
You could see it in her eyes
her love of music
she spoke no lies
maybe that was good, maybe bad
your hair cut could have looked better longer
but still she could have never made you mad
her sweet stories of strength and love
were  all she spoke of
you could see she didn't have one regret
and I know the life she lived was thoughtful and prayful
she could have moved mountains,
for I know
I could see it in her eyes.

you are more than just my prayful dream come true as we stand exchanging rings saying I do more than just a brief or fake romance i'm  so glad that on each other we decided to take a chance and from this blessed moment as the coming years roll by here's hoping love love and trust will keep its flame ever burning in our eyes did I say that you are the whom this man adores darling so much more

I mediate on the worst of myself
I mediate on the worst of myself

I mediate on the worst of myself

After saying that out loud
I turn to prayful thoughts

And I pray
And I pray

And I pray

Then I found myself in lost of words
So I sing

I sing
I sing

i proffer this ceremony as tribute to my dust.

i rapture myself
bleed my prayful tribute
that my painted devils may enter in

o how i miss their rutting tongues
caressing soft slaughter
their baleful paean

how can i make this faded bitter thing rejoice?

i profane myself.
one might laugh
for how brightly
i am lost

princesses do not have voices like mine.

fragile moans haunt after unattainable highs
straining, piteous and woeful.

soulful.
fragile.
covetous.

am i home, or simply here?

i lay frozen.
i am brutal unkind.
i have a yearning fatigue.

am i alive enough to climb inside this,
my waning wilderness?

i do not feel the fervor.
i am not possessed.
i am bled dry.

and the lament undid me.