- This Week's Dear Ones -

FATHER

Dear Ones, Maybe it’s the weather -- maybe my continued search for a church home, but I’ve been feeling very disconnected of late.  It seems everything is hard to do.  Getting out of bed, getting motivated about my “to do” list, even getting a smile on my face.  Especially trying has been my time with the Lord or rather lack of it.  I don’t know why, but I seem to run this same circle every so often.  It is a self-imposed season of drought before I change course and head for the cleansing, refreshing rain that can only come from one place. As the old year comes to an end and the New Year dawns, I look forward to a renewing of my walk with the Lord. I know that it is up to me.  No one else can do it for me.  There is no perfect church that will bring me closer to my Savior, though I firmly believe we are called to worship together, learn together and fellowship together.   I know I’m not the only one in a drought.  I hear it -- see it in others around me.  I covet your prayers and promise to lift mine for you as well.  Thank God for the patience of our Heavenly Father.  He always finds His lost sheep and brings them back to the fold. This little lamb is ready for the warmth of home, Sandy FATHER Father, Father, Father, I’m crying out to You. I feel alone, so empty; There’s nothing else to do. The passion I once knew is gone, It died out long ago. We’ve grown so very far apart But You weren’t the one to go. I can still hear the music playing But the words just pass me by. I can still hear the singing of others But the song inside me has died. So how do I start the journey That leads me back to You? Where do I plant my feet, Lord And know that my steps are true? I’m blinded by so many things So how can I find Your light? Everything is so confusing How do I know what is right? I long to rekindle the fire That burned so long ago. I know that we are far apart Because I was the one to go. Father, Father, Father, I’m crying out to You. You’re the only One who can save me. No one else can see me through. Father, Father, Father, I’m coming back to You. Sandy Moffett © 2009

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