“Jesus of Nazareth, God of Golgotha, Just days ago these people were celebrating (in homes they’ve lost, some with loved ones they’ve lost) your coming at Christmas. Come again I pray to our broken world. Sit with those suffering in the City of Angels, weep with us in the valley of devastation. Kyrie Eleison, Lord have mercy … Creator God, I ask you for meteorological miracles - an urgent change to the Santa Ana winds, the visitation of rain. Protect and strengthen first responders and firefighters working ceaselessly to quell the flames… Renew them I pray with supernatural strength. Kyrie Eleison, Lord have mercy … Consuming Fire, We are brought to our knees, confronted by the fragility of life. Let salvation arise from devastation. Lord of Los Angeles, God of the Angel Armies, rescue us. Deliver us. Save us… that we may turn again to you. Kyrie Eleison, Lord have mercy …” —Written by Pete Grieg
If there was no visit Then all the waiting would’ve been in vain. If there was no visit then Mary would have just been an ordinary girl not chosen or highly favoured. If there was no visit Joseph would have divorced and kept his reputation. If there was no visit Elizabeth’s baby wouldn’t have leapt for joy. If God hadn’t visited wisemen would still be searching, poor Shepherd’s would not have carried such Good News and there would no peace, no hope no —faith no salvation for the world. If there was no visit Abraham would’ve stayed and Isaac would’ve been sacrificed. Jacob would not have dreamed and Moses would not have lead. Elijah would’ve stayed under the broom tree and David would not have been strengthened before Goliath. Solomon would lack wisdom and Deborah would be just a woman under a tree. Esther would not have lead her nation to protection and Rahab would never see the power of the scarlet cord. If there were no visit...
John Griffith was in his early twenties. He was newly married and full of optimism. Along with his lovely wife, he had been blessed with a beautiful baby. He was living the American dream. But then came 1929—the Great Stock Market Crash—the shattering of the American economy that devastated John’s dreams. The winds that howled through Oklahoma were strangely symbolic of the gale force that was sweeping away his hopes and his dreams. And so, brokenhearted, John packed up his few possessions, and with his wife and his little son, headed East in an old Ford Model A. They made their way to the edge of the mighty Mississippi River and found a job tending one of the great railroad bridges there. Day after day, John would sit in the control room and direct the enormous gears of the immense bridge over the mighty river. He would look out wistfully as bulky barges and splendid ships glided gracefully under his elevated bridge. Each day, he looked on sadly as those ships carried with the...
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