this little light

July 29, 2016

crown of thorns

It’s cold, dark and rainy, it’s world war 1 and your alone in a fox hole.

You’re surrounded by barb wire, mustard gas, bloated dead bodies of men and horses.

There’s nobody left to talk to, you haven’t had vegetables or clean water in months.

All you hear is gunfire, men dying or weeping, so you pray.

“stay with me, God.

The night is dark

The night is cold

My little spark of courage dies

The night is long

Be with me

And make me strong.

(the note found in the hand of a dying German soldier in world war 1)

Our prayers don’t have to be long or eloquent… but they must be real, from the heart and felt down to the marrow of our bones. (GW)

Blessings from

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