I adore you, Lord God. You have been so good for so long always working to save us from hell. So many do not believe they are bound for hell so insult you by never reading your love letter to the world ~ your Bible ~ and never praying unless they need something. Sill, amidst all this, you keep trying to save the world. You want everyone to be your child. You are bigger than the universe that you made, but it is tiny humans that capture your heart. You run after us every which way calling, “Come back! You’re headed for danger! I can protect you!” Ah, my Lord God, how you love us. I love you too, Lord. I wish I could love as much as you do. In my frail way, I worship you.

My vegetable garden has been harvested and I have cleared out all that was left behind. And I brought in more fertilizer to give my little seeds a head start next spring. Thank you for allowing me to create with you. I love watching the little green sprigs force their way to the surface and peak at the sun. I often feel like I am forcing my way up through the darkness of this world and trying to take a peak of heaven. Someday it will happen and the experience will be beautiful.

I praise and adore you, God. You are perfect and are willing to see me as perfect even when I am not. I try to be like you but fail in some way every day. You love me in my imperfection. Your love wins over Satan’s hatred. Your forgiveness wins over Satan’s accusations.  Your mercy wins over Satan’s judgments. I often wonder how you can do it ~ always be forgiving me. Sometimes I am embarrassed to, once again, ask for your forgiveness.  Yet, you are delighted to forgive. You are the God of second chances. And third. And scores. And hundreds. Such patience and love I cannot even begin to comprehend. So, I worship you.

It will be Sunday again soon.  Oh, how I will sing out my praises to you!  They will soar to the clouds and beyond, echo from star to star, and surround your throne. My song will not be harmonious and lovely or lyrical, but it will be my song and it will be for the God I love. Accept my praise, my song, the offering of my lips.

Lord God of hosts, you sing with the stars and dance with comets. When you weep, the oceans fill, deep and sad.  You step down to the moon, then onto the meadows of earth.  When you laugh, the mountains shake with gaiety and laugh with you. At the end of the day, you ride the sun back to your home and sit on your throne, contented to have walked with your children once again for a little while.

God, I thank you for slowing down due to occasional physical problems. I have some new equipment so I can make some things with it while I rest. But mostly I thank you for heaven. This is not my home. Just as my heart bowed at the foot of your cross those years ago, I long to be at the foot of your throne so I can bow to you there. I will weep tears of happiness and I will sing the song of victory in Jesus.