The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer;
my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge,
my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.
I called to the Lord, who is worthy of praise,
and I have been saved from my enemies.
The cords of death entangled me;
the torrents of destruction overwhelmed me.
The cords of the grave coiled around me;
the snares of death confronted me.
I wonder, how many of our Dear and Desperate Little Friends are as desperate as they are because they have never been able to say these words?
How many of us, secure in the love of God, have known the entanglement of destruction and the yawning jaws of death? Not even physical death, perhaps, but the death of hope, of purpose, or a relationship. Many believers have faced these bonds and by the love of God, struggled free, and so we pray for those who have not.
Oh GOD! Mighty God! You are our rock, our fortress and our strength! You are our deliverer and our salvation, but we know one, we know two, we know more than a score of others, young and old, rich and poor, whose enemies have pulled them down to the depths of despair.
We say again, some of them are marked “Desperate” by their circumstances and their demeanor, and some appear to be more undaunted than desperate, but You have given us to see behind the veil, to see the fleeting glance as of a hunted animal or a soul whose light has gone out.
That is a privileged glimpse into the inner chamber where humans dwell with God – or not. The very privilege of that glimpse assigns our compassion and our intercession.
Father God, this day, on behalf of __________________________, whose heart I know is troubled beyond human repair, untangle the cords of spiritual death, usually a mistaken understanding of YOU, and spring the snares and rescue him/her from the torrents that have flown so swiftly downriver and out of safety, but for Your love and Your deliverance.
Save, O God! My Rock, my Fortress, my Refuge, I cry out on behalf of my Dear Friend! Save, for there is none beside You, none so worthy and none so capable. Save, Father, I pray!
The Raising of Lazarus, Caravaggio, public domain, death of the artist
By permission, Wikipedia