Hello, God. It's me, Mara

You know, dear Lord, as we grow old and our hair turns gray, what’s in the future for us of clay? Gone are the days of vigor and vim, our limbs are weak and our eyes are dim. Where’s the excitement of yester-year, where is the future that once was clear? We sit all alone, all the live-long day, are we just waiting to pass away? For some of us, Lord, our loved one’s gone, we’re sitting down here just waiting for dawn.

Lord, we ache with every kind of hurt, empty and lonely and lower than dirt. Most of our colleagues are dead and gone; why, oh why, Lord do we linger on? Ravaged by fire, we’re like dead trees, useless and helpless against the breeze. What’s there to hope for in our last days, are we to sit here and give YOU praise? Some family and friends have gone on ahead; this lonely road’s a bit hard to tread.  We know You’re with us, You’re by our side, though sight-unseen, You are our guide.

  If we have the strength to read Your word, now is the time to search what we’ve heard. If we’re too weak to read anymore, protect us dear Lord, forever more. Oh! Company’s coming and they’re old, too, so what are we old folks supposed to do? As we grow old and our hair turns gray, lead us on gently as we pass this way.

  Thank you, dear Lord, for your Holy Word that tells us that our words to You are heard.  We’ll copy down here Psalm 121:1-2 and we’ll read just what all You want us to Do!  “I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the Lord,  which made heaven and earth.”

Love, Mara