(by Dave, 5 min)
You God are the reason we rise in the morning. You are the reason the sun shines and the rain falls. At your desire are there people who love us.
To you Lord is all the praise. But suffering awaits in this fallen world. We encounter each new source of pain from the headwaters of sickness and despair and pray for rescue. For by your hand alone comes relief from the rising surge.
It is from you we receive wise doctors, caring nurses, and loved ones. Those whose hands are extended when we slip from the shore headlong into the strong current. We grasp for them and are rescued.
To you Lord is all praise. Some days, months and even years we are capsized from a life of peace and cast into the raging rapids. How long can we endure the pummeling as extended helping hands slip from our grasp. The roiling water tossing us into unseen boulders that break bones and spirit. The time is coming and is even here when some can reach for the helping hands no more.
Choking, we slide beneath the water. We yield to the river of hopeless despair surging around us and seek no relief. As hope fades and contentment dissolves, a light rises from the river floor in the distance. The water parts around it and we are hurled into the embrace of your loving arms. There we are free and breath in the sweet air of your blessings as the waters of grief find no entry. You place us gently on the shore and we know there is more you would have us do.
To you Lord is all praise. We walk on the banks worn smooth by the river confident that there is no flood of pain or illness where you do not live. Although we walk the slippery shore, the rescued push down their fear and take a new step. We ask only your guidance for the path to trod.
When the river grabs us for the last time, casting us towards the falls where the banks drop away, you will save us and banish the river forever. This knowledge is too great for us. Too magnificent for the mortal to comprehend. And, so, we walk always fearful of the very river that brings us to you.
To you Lord is all praise. While the river not of your making carries us to you, it owns us not.
Praise be to the Father, Son and Holy Spirit from the rescued.
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