I haven't Got a Prayer

There were a few times this week when I came questioning before the throne of God.

Each time, I was kneeling after an enjoyable day. I had received blessings in the weather, in my company, through my family and friends, through my time and blessings in the form of opportunity;  I had nothing to pray for.

I didn't understand.

Every night I ask God for something. More of his character manifested in my life. A second chance to not yell at my brother. One day to be cooler than the rest. It is typical for me to find something that has gone wrong and pray God to put his blessing over it. I try to cover it with prayer at the end of the day for the next morning.

But those days, I came up empty. It seemed as if all those days had already been perfectly blessed. I had to wonder what I was supposed to improve upon. It was insanity to me that God would give me a day without poking my character in another direction (or again, in the same direction.)

So the first day I just thanked him.

The second day I started praising! I remembered David and turned hastily to Psalms, hoping his prescribed words would suit the helium-like joy that insisted on rising beyond me.

More perfect days followed. Sunburn, slivers, swallowing half the lake while skiing and sticking to inside of my sleeping bag ruined each evening, morning and afternoon. And I couldn't get anything out of myself but more Psalms!

Today I still can't think of anything to pray for. I am so grateful to God for the moments our church spent together worshipping and learning. I thank him for time this afternoon to work on projects and to blog. I am still excited by eating supper outside and throwing a hotdog bun over the edge of the porch to my dog. I look forward to the evening.

I see now that God is poking my character. Towards praise. Is that not a glorious thing? We were created to praise and worship! Shouldn't it be a repetitive part of our twenty-four hour lives?

And what a lovely and perfect repetition!

Psalm 21:1-5
"O Lord, in your strengh the kind rejoices,
and in your salvation how greatly he exults!
You have given him his heart's desire
and have not witheld the request of his lips.
For you met him with rich blessings;
you set a crown of fine gold upon his head.
He asked life of you; you gave it to him,
length of days forever and ever.
His glory is great through your salvation;
splendor and majesty you bestow on him.
For you make him most blessed forever,
you make him glad with the joy of your presence."

The Unsung Anthem

O say, can you see, by the dawn's early light,

what so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?

Whose broad stripes and bright stars, thro' the perilous fight,

O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming?

And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air,

Gave proof thro' the night that our flag was still there.

O say, does that Star-spangled Banner still wave

O're the land of the free and the home of the brave?

We correctly remove our hats and place our right hands over our hearts. We look at our flag and remember the freedoms that those colors symbolize.

Then twenty-five percent of the way through this tribute, we place each cap back on its head and walk away.

How many have heard these words sung at sporting events, at a funeral, or in church?

On the shore dimly seen, thro' the mists of the deep,
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
In full glory reflected, now shines in the stream;

'Tis the Star-Spangled Banner, Oh long may it wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

For the sake of each fallen soldier from 1776 until now, follow the story of the song. 

In 1814, Francis Scott Key boarded a British ship to negotiate the release of his friend, the Dr. William Beanes. He was forced to wait on the ship and watch the British attack Fort McHenry through the night. Through the first verse, Key has wondered, desperately, whether that flag still waves. Now his breath catches and he stiffens slightly - defiantly. There on the shore, scarcely discernable in the predawn gloom, crowded as it is with the smoky atmosphere of bloodshed, there were glimpses of red, white and blue.

But it wasn't morning yet.

And then innocent, beautiful light twisted the dark horizon into a rainbow. The flag stood.

And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion
A home and a country should leave us no more?
Their blood has wash'd out their foul footstep's pollution.
No refuge could save the hireling and slave
From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave,
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

Key gives us the foundation suitably placed at the end. A country defended itself before his eyes. He lived and breathed the struggle of keeping America free. And he must forcibly remind us of the Help that aided each one in that struggle.

Oh, thus be it ever when free men shall stand
Between their loved homes and the war's desolation!
Blest with vict'ry and peace, may the heav'n rescued land
Praise the Pow'r that hath made and preserved us a nation!
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto, "In God is our trust"
And the Star-Spangled Banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

God bless America.

Just New York City

I was going to blog about going to New York.

Now I don't know if I can. So much of it was just tourist attractions and travel! I enjoyed it without a doubt, but there was so little of substance that happened.

So I'll compromise. I'll post my pictures and give you a photo blog post (for once) and get this self-inflicted need to blog about NYC off my mind.

Then I can freely write about things that actually give me words.



This is my first picture of the skyline! If only the UPS truck hadn't changed lanes. Grrrr.

This is the Lincoln Tunnel. It goes under the Hudson River from Brooklyn, New Jersey to New York City, New York. This picture was supposed to show how wet the walls were from being right under the river.





This was the old graveyard at Trinity church. William Bradford is burried here! Also - think National Treasure.

The boys started feeding the pidgeons during breakfast.



And they gathered somewhat of a crowd before they realized it wasn't a very good idea.

This is the 9/11 memorial site. the water runs from a under a ledge down to the first level, and then it falls down into that square in the center.

Around the rim is a ledge on which is inscribed the name of every victim of 9/11 from the two towers, from the Pentagon, from the volunteer rescue workers, and from the victims of the terrorist attack in 1993.

These are some of the names inscribed on that ledge.

And this next picture is what brought all of this into focus for me.

Inna. The nickname of one of my dearest friends. I had to stand for a minute to take this in. It struck me then that people's friends died here. That their families, their sisters, their childhood playmates did not escape the tower before it fell. That the pain from this tragedy was still hurting my country.

The rest of the pictures I took at Ground Zero were much less from a tourist's point of view, and more from that of a touched countryman. It was a sad lesson, but I am grateful I learned it.

Thoughtfully,

Gianna.

(More pictures later. :)