To You I Do Pray

Here I sit, determined to write something. I think about writing all the time, and I want to write. I seldom do any of it right now. The piles of papers, books, and boxes call to me, saying, Here we are, find us a place. They pull at me, fussing to be tended immediately, clamoring at me to forget everything else until they are put away. Moving is a messy, long-term project.

Tonight I am ignoring the piles. I will tackle them tomorrow.

I find myself thinking about the picture I put on my desktop background today—it is a small snip of a mural covering a wall somewhere in New Orleans. My daughter took the picture in June when she and her two oldest children were there with a youth mission trip.

Central to the picture is Psalm 5:2, written in bold black print: Give attention to the sound of my cry my King and my God for to you I do pray. 

A little research showed this verse to be from the English Standard Version of the Bible, with a couple of variations. The ESV wording has commas after “cry” and “God,” and the last three words are “do I pray.”

Give attention to the sound of my cry my King and my God for to you I do pray. Without commas, it seems more intense, as if the writer were deeply involved, his heart crying out to God in great need.

The verses surrounding it are incomplete in this picture, but they all concern praying. They are written in different styles, as though all by different people. Everything is written in black except the word “pray,” the word scattered throughout, in red in differing formats. It calls to my heart—pray, pray, pray.  

Prayer is filled with power as it draws upon the mighty strength and love of God. I am called to pray by these words. God’s peace will fill me as I heed this call. Even though we are surrounded by piles of frustrating and difficult things, our hearts cry out: Give attention to the sound of my cry my King and my God for to you I do pray.