Somewhere a saint is praying.
Somewhere hope is held out to the night.
Somewhere a restless soul is stirring,
gearing up for a spiritual fight.

Somewhere a child is kneeling,
A little one’s prayers have wings to fly.
Forbid not the children, Jesus said,
for of such is the kingdom.
Uninhibited,
their pleas to God,
no limit to their sky.

Somewhere a prayer of thanks goes up.
Somewhere a fearful parent cries out.
Somewhere a soldier’s spouse prays alone.
Somewhere a family prays as a loved one breathes their last,
while next door joyful prayers greet a newborn.
Prayers go out to save a marriage, a home, even a life.

Someone questions and prays for an answer.
Someone prays in the sand, drawing like a dancer.
Someone prays with groanings,
unable to find the words.
Some pray with desperation, not knowing where to turn.

Somewhere someone’s interceding,
standing for those who can’t.
Some pray sacrificially
putting themselves in the gap .

Somewhere a saint is praying
Somewhere hope is held out to the night.
Somewhere a restless soul is stirring,
gearing up for a spiritual fight.

© Joel Tipple #35/14