The Prayer Porch

Tag: prayer

  • Finding Sacred Space in Sorrow

    Finding Sacred Space in Sorrow

    There are moments when the world feels especially tender.

    As a Jewish holiday begins, marked by remembrance, reflection, and sacred pause, we are also aware of heartbreaking violence in the world. These moments often arrive together. Holy days do not wait for the world to be at peace, and grief does not pause for the calendar. Both meet us where we are.

    On the Prayer Porch, we do not rush to explain or resolve. We simply sit. We notice. We breathe. We allow sorrow and sacredness to share the same space, trusting that God is present in both.

    Today, this porch is a place of quiet witness. A place to hold grief with tenderness and to honor sacred time with humility. A place where prayer does not try to fix the world, but offers it back to God with open hands.

    A Porch Prayer

    God of all people and all times,
    we come to You aware that the world is hurting.
    As some enter sacred days of remembrance and hope,
    others are waking to shock, grief, and fear.

    We do not have words that make sense of this.
    We only ask for Your nearness
    to those who mourn,
    to those who feel unsafe,
    and to those whose hearts feel heavy with questions.

    Teach us how to hold sorrow with tenderness
    and sacred time with humility.
    Meet us here, on the porch,
    where we pause, breathe, and remember
    that love still matters.

    Amen.

    In seasons where sacred time and sorrow meet, may we choose presence, compassion, and prayer over certainty.


    With love,
    Laura

  • God’s Promise: Life from the Valley of Dry Bones

    God’s Promise: Life from the Valley of Dry Bones

    There’s a moment in the book of Ezekiel that feels as honest as any human experience: the valley of dry bones. God leads Ezekiel into a place filled with what once had been alive – scattered remains, brittle and silent. Then God asks him, “Son of man, can these bones live?”

    Ezekiel answers the only way he can: “Lord, You alone know.”
    It’s a whisper of faith from someone staring at something that looks completely hopeless.

    We all have seasons like that.
    Times when our hearts feel tired and our purpose feels distant.
    Our prayers feel like they echo in an empty valley.

    There are days we wake up and feel hollowed out by stress, disappointment, grief, or sheer exhaustion. Moments where we feel spiritually thin – like the “us” we used to be has slipped away.

    And just like those dry bones, we wonder if anything can live again.

    But God speaks into that emptiness. He tells Ezekiel to prophesy to the bones, to call them to hear the word of the Lord. And as Ezekiel speaks, something miraculous happens:

    Bone begins to find bone.
    Sinews and flesh form.
    And finally, God breathes His Spirit – the holy breath – into them.
    And where death once lay, a living army rises.

    This story is more than an ancient vision; it’s a promise.

    🌬️ God still breathes life into the dry places.

    Into the places we’ve abandoned.
    Into the wounds we’ve tried to hide.
    Into the dreams we let go of because we were too tired to keep hoping.

    What does this look like in daily life?

    Sometimes it’s the moment you feel a spark of purpose after weeks of numbness.
    Sometimes it’s a gentle conviction “Call that person – try again – pray one more time.”
    Sometimes it’s the strength to get out of bed with a fresh sense of “maybe today.”
    Sometimes it’s tears that finally fall, clearing the ground for healing.
    Sometimes it’s a reminder that God isn’t finished with your story.

    Life returning doesn’t always come as a thunderclap.
    Most of the time, it comes as a quiet stirring.
    A small breath.
    A whisper that says, “I am with you.”

    As the world around us settles into rest, maybe we can sit on the porch with this gentle truth:

    God never leaves us in the valley.
    He meets us there.
    He speaks to the bones.
    And He breathes new life into what we thought was over.

    Lord, breathe life into the dry places within me.
    Restore what has grown weary.
    Reconnect what has been scattered.
    Revive what feels lost or forgotten.
    Help me trust that no valley is too empty for Your Spirit to fill.
    May Your breath bring strength, hope, and a fresh beginning today.
    Amen.

  • Light in the Dark: A Prayerful Halloween Tribute

    Light in the Dark: A Prayerful Halloween Tribute

    As autumn deepens and the days grow shorter, we find ourselves surrounded by symbols of both mystery and play. Glowing pumpkins and rustling leaves abound. Children in costumes and flickers of candlelight dance in the dark. Halloween, often seen as a night of fright or fun, carries roots that reach deep into faith and remembrance.

    Long before modern celebrations, people referred to the night of October 31st as All Hallows’ Eve. It was the vigil before All Saints’ Day on November 1st. The Church set aside these days to honor the saints who have gone before us. It serves as a reminder that life, even in its ending, bends toward resurrection. In older traditions, families lit candles in windows to guide souls. They wanted to remind the living that death is not an end. Instead, it’s a doorway into God’s eternal light.

    The ancient Celts marked this season as Samhain. It was a threshold between summer’s end and winter’s rest. During this time, the veil between the physical and spiritual felt thin. When Christianity took root, this instinct to remember and honor those who came before was baptized with hope. Death transformed not into something to fear. Instead, it became a mystery wrapped in God’s mercy.

    Today, our culture still holds traces of that longing. Behind the costumes and candy is a whisper of truth. Light still shines in darkness. Remembrance is sacred. Even the spookiest symbols cannot overshadow the victory of life in Christ.

    So this evening, as the trick-or-treaters pass by, pause for a quiet moment on your porch. Candles flicker in carved pumpkins. Offer a prayer for those who have gone before you. Remember your parents, children, and grandparents. Honor the saints and souls in need of rest. Thank God for the gift of laughter, creativity, and community. And whisper gratitude for a faith that teaches us to walk unafraid, even when the night grows long.

    🕯️ A Simple Prayer

    Lord of light and life,
    As shadows lengthen and the world grows still,
    Let Your presence be our lantern.
    Bless the children who laugh tonight,
    The saints who watch over us,
    And the souls who rest in Your peace.
    May we carry kindness into every dark place,
    And remember that Your love conquers fear.

    Amen.

  • Listening and Love: The Heart of Nursing Home Care

    Listening and Love: The Heart of Nursing Home Care

    This morning, I sit on the porch with a warm cup of coffee. There is a chill of autumn in the air. My heart turns to the place where I spend time each month -the nursing home. It’s a space filled with quiet holiness, where God’s presence is often felt in the smallest, simplest acts of care.

    Each morning begins with a “Good morning,” a greeting that can shape someone’s entire day. Waking residents, offering a smile, and speaking with gentleness – these are sacred moments. It’s humbling to realize that the tone of your voice will be the first kindness someone hears all day.

    Throughout the day, there are stories. Memories shared by those who drift in and out of the present moment. Sometimes, words come slowly or wander into another time entirely. Yet, listening – truly listening – becomes an act of love. In those conversations, I see glimpses of who they once were. They were children who ran and played. They were young adults with dreams. They became parents who built families and people who created and loved deeply.

    The nursing home is often their final home. Some have few visitors, and holidays can feel long and lonely. But the care team – nurses, CNAs, housekeepers, therapists – they become family. Nurses move quickly, hearts steady even when their feet are weary. CNAs respond to every light above a door, carrying both patience and compassion through every shift. Housekeepers often feel unnoticed yet they bring warmth through quiet service. One lady who comes to mind, fills the halls with hymns that soften the air and lift the spirit.

    In these moments, I am reminded: this is holy ground. Each task, no matter how small, is an act of love offered to the people of God.

    Today, on my day off, I pause to give thanks. I am grateful for the privilege of serving. I appreciate the beauty in aging. I honor the sacredness of care. I thank God for the sparkle in a resident’s eyes. I am thankful for the courage of my coworkers. I am also grateful for the still, small ways His presence moves through our hands and hearts.

    May we each remember that love doesn’t need to be loud to be life-changing. Sometimes it looks like listening, holding a hand, or simply saying, “Good morning, I’m glad you’re here.”

    Lord, thank You for the gift of serving others in Your name.
    Bless every caregiver, every nurse, every housekeeper, every soul who enters those halls.
    Let our words carry comfort, our hands bring peace, and our hearts reflect Your love.
    Remind us that each act of care is sacred in Your eyes.
    Amen. 🌿

  • Finding Stillness: Inner Peace on My Back Porch

    Finding Stillness: Inner Peace on My Back Porch

    On my little back porch – The quiet moments come before the world fully wakes. The sunlight spilling gently across the floorboards. The leaves rustling, whispering their morning prayer. This porch has become a sacred space – a threshold between the outer world and the inner one.

    As I settle into that quiet space, I find myself drawn to the life and wisdom of St. Teresa of Ávila, a 16th-century nun, mystic, and reformer whose words still stir hearts centuries later. Teresa’s writings invite us to explore prayer. They also encourage us to delve into the deep interior life. It is that tender meeting place where our soul communes with God.

    In her masterpiece, The Interior Castle, St. Teresa describes the soul as a grand castle made of crystal. It is full of rooms that lead ever inward toward the center. This is the place where God dwells.

    She wrote that many people live only in the outer courtyards, busy and distracted, unaware of the beauty within. The spiritual journey, she said, involves moving deeper into those inner rooms. This is achieved through prayer, humility, and love. These practices help us rest in God’s presence at the very heart of our being.

    That image feels so close to what I experience on the porch. When I quiet my mind and let the noise settle, I can feel myself moving inward. I transition from thought, to breath, to stillness. This brings me closer to the One who loves me completely.

    St. Teresa also compared prayer to watering a garden. At first, she said, it takes effort – drawing water by hand, tending each plant carefully. But over time, as we grow in trust, the garden begins to water itself through rain – grace freely given.

    In her words:

    “The soul is like a garden, and the Lord delights to walk among its flowers.”

    Maybe our porch time is like that early watering. These are quiet moments when we show up weary or hopeful. We trust that something beautiful is being tended in us, even when we can’t yet see it blooming.

    🪷 How to Pray Like Teresa

    Here are a few simple ways to bring her spirit to your own porch:

    1. Begin with Stillness
    Sit quietly. Notice your breath. Let the outer rooms of your mind settle. You don’t need to do anything – just be present.

    2. Offer Humble Prayer
    Teresa reminds us that humility is the doorway to God’s love. Speak simply, as if to a dear friend. Tell Him your joys, your weariness, your longing.

    3. Rest in Silence
    After speaking, stay a moment longer. Don’t rush away. This is the heart of prayer – the space where words end and presence begins.

    Perhaps the porch – that small, humble space between inside and out – is a reflection of Teresa’s inner castle. It’s where heaven meets earth, where our busyness softens into prayer.

    Today, you don’t have to find perfection in your spiritual life. Just step into the next “room.” Move a little deeper into your own heart. Trust that God is already waiting there.

    Lord,
    Teach me to enter the quiet places of my heart.
    Help me to water the garden of my soul with gentle trust.
    May I meet You there in stillness and simplicity. Let me learn to rest in Your love. Teresa did this, faithful and free.
    Amen.

    Which “room” of your inner life are you being invited into today — stillness, trust, surrender, or joy?

  • Celebrate World Gratitude Day: Embrace the Power of Thankfulness

    Celebrate World Gratitude Day: Embrace the Power of Thankfulness

    September 21st is World Gratitude Day – a beautiful reminder to pause and notice the blessings that fill our lives. Gratitude isn’t just a nice thought. It’s a practice that can strengthen our hearts. It can lighten our spirits. It can even deepen our faith.

    Science has confirmed what Scripture has long told us: giving thanks changes us. Studies show gratitude boosts mental health, eases stress, and even helps our bodies heal. But more than that, God’s Word invites us to “give thanks in all circumstances” (1 Thessalonians 5:18). Gratitude lifts our eyes from what’s missing and helps us see His goodness right here, right now.

    Simple Ways to Practice Gratitude Today 🌸

    ➡️ Write it down. Keep a gratitude journal or jot down three blessings each day.

    ➡️ Send a thank-you. Text, call or write a letter to someone who encouraged you. Be specific about how they touched your life.

    ➡️ Pause with purpose. Before meals, meetings, or bed, take a breath and name something you appreciate in that moment.

    ➡️ Spot the helpers. Even in stress, look for those who are trying to make things better.

    ➡️ Appreciate your body. Thank God for the way your body carries you, heals you, and enables you to embrace those you love.

    ➡️ Celebrate small joys. The morning sunrise, coffee with a friend, or a quiet moment on the porch – all are gifts worth noticing.

    Lord, thank You for the countless blessings You pour out each day. Teach me to see Your goodness in small things. Help me give thanks in both ease and trial. Let me carry a heart of gratitude that reflects Your love. Amen.

    ✨ Gratitude isn’t about ignoring struggles – it’s about holding them alongside the goodness that is always present. Let today be a gentle invitation to look around, notice the blessings, and give thanks.

  • Finding Joy in Your Spiritual Gifts: A Reflection on Mary and Martha

    Finding Joy in Your Spiritual Gifts: A Reflection on Mary and Martha

    Sometimes I smile when I read the story of Mary and Martha. Two sisters, both devoted to Jesus, but so very different in how they expressed their love for Him. Martha bustled around, working hard to prepare and serve. Mary sat at Jesus’ feet, soaking in His words.

    It’s easy to think one was “right” and one was “wrong.” But maybe the deeper lesson is that each of us has a different way of living out our devotion. Martha’s gift was service, hospitality, and care. Mary’s gift was presence, listening, and worship. Both loved Jesus, just in different ways.

    Not all of us are called to the same work, and that’s the beauty of it. Some of us love to bake bread or cook meals that nourish others. Some feel alive when teaching, guiding, or leading conversations. Others find joy in being the one who notices. They pray quietly and encourage with a text at just the right moment.

    Our culture often pressures us to compare – to think the loudest gift is the most important. But God delights in the quiet as much as the visible. The small prayer, the gentle kindness, the faithful service no one sees. All of it reflects His heart.

    A Gentle Reminder

    You don’t have to copy Mary or Martha. You simply have to be faithful with the gifts God has placed in you.

    • If you love to serve: your kitchen table can be an altar.
    • If you love to listen and pray: your quiet corner can be holy ground.
    • If you love to lead: your voice can guide others toward Christ.
    • If you love to create: your art, music, or craft can become worship.
    • If you love to encourage: your words can be a lifeline to weary hearts.

    Each of us brings something unique, and each gift is precious in His sight.

    Lord, thank You for the reminder that our gifts don’t need to look like anyone else. Teach us to celebrate the gifts You’ve given us, and to honor the gifts that we see in others. May we, like Mary and Martha, welcome You into our homes and hearts in the ways You’ve made us. Amen.

    🌿 As I sit on the porch today, I picture Mary quietly listening. I see Martha bustling with care. I realize the Church needs both. And it needs you too with the gifts God has entrusted to you, however ordinary they seem.