The Prayers of the Faithful

The morning sun peaks up over the horizon.
I beg for more time - time to ignore the light.

Something unseen, unheard, but real surrounds my tired body.
My body begins to rise – first out of slumber and then out of bed.
As the sun slowly inches its way into the sky
I feel my body rising in tandem – one tiny measure at a time.

God’s hand raises me to face a new day.
It is not by my power as I am powerless.
I move not by my strength as weakness overtook me long ago.
It is the prayers of the faithful pulling, pushing, lifting, and raising me to a new day.

Thank you