Holy Spirit You are welcome here Come flood this place and fill the atmosphere Your glory God is what our hearts long for To be overcome by Your presence Lord
Holy Spirit You are welcome here. Come flood this place and fill the atmosphere, your glory God is what our hearts long for, to be overwhelmed by your presence Lord...
Lord, you know the need in my heart and I pray that you will give me the strength to face what you have for my life. I pray that you cover my husband with all your blessings and heal him from his health problems. It's been some challenging times here lately, and I pray for your guidance, love and blessings on my family. I love you Lord and I will always follow you. To God Be The Glory for Everything in My Life.
Romans 15:30 I appeal to you, brothers, by our Lord Jesus Christ and by the love of the Spirit, to strive together with me in your prayers to God on my behalf,
Sometimes it can be hard to see the worth of building our lives and ministry at home when our days feel overwhelming and isolating. If you are in that place, questioning the labor you pour into each day, come and be reminded of the purpose and intention God has given you- after all, "your greatest contribution to the Kingdom of God, might not be something you do, but someone you raise."
Now I lay me down to sleep, one less terrorist this world does keep. With all my heart I give my thanks, to those in uniform regardless of ranks. You serve our country and serve it well, with humble hearts your stories tell. So as I rest my weary eyes, while freedom rings our flag still flies. You give your all do what you must... with God we live and God we trust.
Cross our hearts-- this dress is a real stunner. It has a crossover bodice with slits; peeping your midriff and just below your shoulders; and is made in a sturdy ribbed fabric that will keep you firmly held in place (no wardrobe malfunctions here!). Go classy with some black or nude accessories; or wild with neon contrasting! Partially lined $78.00
A Mother’s Prayer for Her Child By Tina Fey “First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches. May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty. When the Crystal Meth is offered, may she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer. Guide her, protect her when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age. Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels. What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit. May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers. Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen.Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait. O Lord, break the Internet forever, that she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed. And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it. And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back. “My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes. Amen.” -Tina Fey