My friends are praying.

Whispering our names to the ear of our Father
My friends are praying.

Dropping tears and half spoken words
Journaling or conversing or silently meditating
My friends are praying.

Calling out, beseeching, interceding
Reminding the Author of truths He has written
Enumerating the promises of faith
Even when they've no words left to say
My friends are praying.

And I think that maybe
That breath of energy that lifts me up from the middle of the muddle
That sensed-more-than-felt hand strong on my shoulder when I'm screaming alone in my head
That gentle finger on my lips when they tremble on the brink of disastrous words
That faintest pinprick of hope sparking at the end of the dark tunnel

Are all because our friends are praying.

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