About the Author:
Angela Ashwin is the author of many books, including A Little Book of Healing Prayer, Woven Into Prayer and Faith in the Fool. She makes her home in Nottinghamshire, England.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.:
Lord, Heal and Help Me
1
Here I am, Lord,
Wounded
Worried
divided against myself.
Here I am
Naked
Numb
exposed to you.
Here I am
Held
Healed
Loved
passive in the arms of my God.
2
Lord, come as sweet, healing oil
into my weary mind,
my bruised heart
and my dried-up soul.
3
You meet me in gentleness.
You come close.
You take my coldness
and warm me from the inside.
As my cold heart melts, Lord,
let your streams flow through me,
that I may play my part
in the renewing of the earth.
Based on some words of Ulrich Schaffer
4
Lord,
I want to reach you
and I try to touch you,
but many forces jostle me
and my own fears thrust me aside.
I want to reach you
and I try to touch even your garment,
but they say I am a fool
and I am filled with doubt.
I want to reach you
and I try to touch even the hem of your garment,
and my fingers brush the homespun cloth
and I am flooded with healing
and you turn and ask who touched you
and I fall on my face
and you bend down, lifting me gently, and telling me
that my own faith, that fragment of hope,
has healed me.
And you love me,
and my life is changed.
The woman with a haemorrhage, Luke 8:43–48
5
Now my life is hidden with Christ in God;
I am yours, Lord,
for better, for worse,
in times of hope when I feel well and alive,
and in the bleak landscape of my darkness;
in it all
I am yours.
Colossians 3:3
6
Lord, cleanse and sweeten the springs of my being,
that your freedom and light
may flow into my conscious mind
and into my hidden, unconscious self.
7
Gentle God, ground of my beseeching,
you enfold me in goodness
and wrap me tenderly as in a garment;
be my true rest,
and make me one with you.
God my Father, my Mother, my Spouse,
let love be my meaning
as it is yours,
and keep me always
in the love with which you loved me
before I was born.
Based on teachings of Julian of Norwich (c. 1342–1413)
8
Lord,
through weariness and hurt,
through disaster on the news,
through headaches and depression,
I am still yours.
I do not understand,
but I believe that you are here
in the dark places of human life,
and that nothing
can take us out of your hands.
9 O God, I am hurt and I am wrestling: wrestling with the self-pity that threatens to swallow me up;
wrestling with my reluctance to admit my own
failings;
wrestling with loneliness and the longing to be
fully understood.
Who am I wrestling with, God?
Myself?
The evil one?
Or is it with You,
my Guarding Angel,
my God,
who will not let me go,
until I rest
exhausted but healing
in Your arms,
as Your sorrow dissolves my pride,
and Your love penetrates my scars?
Jacob wrestles with God, Genesis 32:24–32
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