Friday, August 10, 2007

Sometimes, this is all I can say...

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.


Ben said...

Thank you for sharing this piece of art and reminding us of this ancient prayer.

traveller said...

Thank you for sharing this beautiful picture and conversation with Father. I am compelled to join you in that conversation as well, sinner that I am.

May God shower you with his mercy and grace.

Anonymous said...

How different my days would be if I reflected on this "position" each and every morning.

Did you paint this? It's very passionate. And a beautiful reminder that His mercies are new...

(and yes, I finally braved the unknown and published a blog comment! love you!)


Emily Hunter McGowin said...


I wish I had painted it. Its beautiful, isn't it? I found it on-line, but cannot find the name of the artist.

Thanks for stepping out into the blogosphere. I consider your presence an honor. Welcome!

I love you, too,


allhokie said...


I've read your blog and your posts on SBC outpost. You are gracious yet confident in your replies to all those good ol' boys. Keep up the good work.


Carn-Dog said...


fantastic and witty rebuttal. thanks for sharing that with me.

this prayer always screwed up my breathing patterns. :)

Bob Cleveland said...

Over the years, I've discovered something about myself in this area.

In our weekly prayer meetings (a half dozen or so of us gather twice weekly), I often sit on the floor and just worship; I've always wondered why I do that. Then I recalled my youth in the early 1940's, long before TV, when mom and dad would turn the dining room chairs around to face the Zenith Trans-Oceanic console radio and we'd listen the news of WWII, and to boxing on Friday nights, and programs like that. Mom would usually do mending, dad had a briefcase of paperwork to do, and my brother and I would sit on the floor and draw on scrap papers dad brought from the office.

I always sat on the floor, by dad's feet. I think that's why I like to sit on the floor worshiping, too.

Thinking back to those times, there was a great sense of security and warmth and love, simply sitting at his feet. Years later, when I got smart and grown up and all that, I lost that sense.

We do make it complicated, and drag all kind of things about US into the deal.

Thanks for this reminder.