Quotes About Prayer

She was amazed at how easily distracted she could be when praying.

You can influence Tony. You can pray for him and ask God to work in his heart. You can love him with the kind of love only God can give you. But you can't make decisions for him. You can't change him. You can only allow God to change you. You can change the way you think about him and yourself and God. You can believe the truth about the power of God and join Him in what He wants to do.

She'd wondered what she'd ever do if God would actually speak to her while she was praying. Some of her friends, particularly one over in Point Pleasant, had encouraged her to get slain in the Spirit as if that would change things between her and God. She'd already been slain as much as she needed as far as she was concerned.

Bring her back, Lord. Bring her back and keep her safe.

Pray and wait. That's what she had done in the past few weeks. And in the waiting came the strengthening of the muscles of faith. It was a whole-faith workout to wait and allow God to do what He wanted to do. As Clara said, it was time to just get out of His way.

God, I want a new job and I don't want to go to jail," Tony prayed. "But I know there are consequences to my actions. I know what I did hurt people. I've hurt my family. I hurt my employer. And I thank You for forgiving me and grabbing hold of my heart and not letting me go any further toward things that would have destroyed me. "Right

I always had a relationship with God as early as 8 years old. I can remember having these conversations with God. I'd go in the bathroom and look in the mirror and talk to myself, but then I knew I was not the only one present.

Many people experience Gethsemane moments.

I like to go to church. Religion is an important part in my life. It has helped me in bad moments.

If you talk to God, you are praying; If God talks to you, you have schizophrenia.

Then you pray the prayer that is the essence of every ritual: God, I have no hope. I am torn to shreds. You are my first and my last and only refuge. Don't do daily prayers like a bird pecking, moving its head up and down. Prayer is an egg. Hatch out the total helplessness inside. —RUMI

But deep prayer, prolonged prayer, is a terrible mirror—kneel there long enough and everything shows. There's no way out of eventually seeing your phoniness and dishonesty.

Real prayer is a disappearance, a surrender to the embrace of deepening mystery, in darkness. In that darkness, finally, God alone is. And God is infinite surprise.

The evening breeze was strong and from the sea; the three ships moored offshore were nudged parallel, and the fires on the beach threw sparks away from the setting sun toward the black Florida cypress swamps. In the raised hut the pirates had built on a sandy rise just inland of the fires, Beth Hurwood peered out at the sky and the sea, and filled her lungs with the cool sea air, and prayed that the breeze would hold until dawn.

I spose it's wrong to pray that someone dies… But I've thought about all the prayers. If that's what I was doing them years…Asking something, someone, anything, for a big black anvil to fall from the sky like in the cartoons. Kerang! On Wankbag's head. Because nothing else was gunna save [me]…

You read yourself full, you pray yourself hot, and then you turn yourself loose.

It is not 'Shinigami'. It is Kuchiki Rukia. I see.. I'm Kurosaki Ichigo. Let's pray this isn't the last greeting for both of us.

Fanny had little or no self-esteem on her best days, and courage was another commodity she had precious little experience with. She dropped to her knees and prayed with all her heart for both. It was clear to her that divine intervention was the only way she would be able to rejoin that insufferable Argus Winslow and the dreadful waitress.

question that remained now was whether he would be alive to perform the day's final salaat. That was in Allah's

Something has got to hold it together. I'm saying my prayers to Elmer, the Greek god of glue.

then sang a musical version of the Lord's Prayer in a wavering, contralto voice with bluesy quarter-tone inflections. It was strange, haunting, beautiful. Even

Give us this day our daily mask.

Gimme hate, Lord," he whimpered. "I'll take hate any day. But don't give me love. I can't take no more love, Lord. I can't carry it...It's too heavy. Jesus, you know, you know all about it. Ain't it heavy? Jesus? Ain't love heavy?

Each night, without fail, she prayed for blue eyes. Fervently, for a year she had prayed. Although somewhat discouraged, she was not without hope. To have something as wonderful as that would take a long, long time.