A Writer’s Prayer (2)

My Lord, my Father, the most merciful.

I shall humbly put today’s writing session into Your hands.

For everything there is, everything that has been, and everything that will soon to become: they are all Your doing.

Forgive me if any of this comes out of spontaneity, if any of this sprouts into the most brutally raw forms of Your humble servant’s briefest manifestation of thoughts. I hope You understand that she is trying her best.

Please. Allow Your wisdom to come and overflow this broken vessel’s mind, to by no means carve it, into something that is beautiful, majestic, pure.

I stumble myself upon You today begging myself for forgiveness of my lowly sins, for the humanly-impossible-to-forgive-doings by the grace of Your holy blood.

For it was You who navigated me through turbulent waters. Hence, it was Your promise that saved me from drowning dead, and Your blood that has shed me from the dark abyss of my once blinded soul. 

“The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God endures forever.”

You reminded me again, didn’t You? Straight, fresh from Heavens above. The promises You’ve made: bright, glistening, heartwarming things are currently on its way as I speak. Isaiah 40:8. Never could I have asked for a better note. 

As of now, things have not exactly been the steadiest. I am stuck in between struggles and urges to bail out, almost giving in to small, significant aspects that I yet happen to know could fester wounds that hardly heal, and mark scars that I assume could stay, perhaps permanently. 

“Hold on,” You’d tell me.

“You’re doing great, my child. 

Remember the reason behind all there is that you’re doing right now.

Do them as though you’re working for Me, and not for them.”

Then again You’d be right, of course. You’ve always been. Your words would continuously flourish strong enough to fuel me back up towards hustling once more. 

I’m truly grateful as it is, though to shamefully admit, there were times where I simply couldn’t help myself into turning otherwise, but You’d still love me anyways.

So hear me as I call out to You.

Read through this small piece of writing, and keep it as an offering coming from one of the many humble servants You feed.

For she writes straight from her heart, colors her canvas with words using all her might to please You.

See to her as she kneels down under to humbly request that you use her,

despite becoming the lost lamb she once was, the wretch she might have once been before.

She knows she is redeemed, and she is ready to serve You. 

My Lord, my Father, the most merciful.

I shall humbly put today’s writing session into Your hands.

For everything there is, everything that has been, and everything that will soon to become: they are all Your doing.

Therefore I know that You are in control of my life.

And if by being in control means You have solemnly appointed me to satisfy you,

then to satisfy You I shall.


Writing this prayer helped me conquer the writer’s block that I’ve been going through for a while now. Let’s hope by sharing it, and allowing everyone who is anyone to read would carry an impact somehow. No matter how small.
With all the recent challenges scattered around your life recently, and that belittled time to spare to spend with God, let this be a reminder for you to start looking for Him again. To lock those doors, to sit down, and just pray. He longs for you, He misses you. Perhaps that’s all there is.
Here’s another scripture to note before you leave:
“Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances;for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” – 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18
I hope you find what you were looking for.

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2 thoughts on “A Writer’s Prayer (2)

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