Its empty joys and foolish fears
I leave, for Thou dost call—
Thou art my Life, my All.
Adapted from the poetry of METHODIUS, 9th century AD
—Sarah Arthur, At the Still Point, Paraclete Press
Again today, Jesus, I read of the eagerness of so many people rushing about to gather crowds of sick people so that you could heal them. As I bring sick people to you in prayer, increase my expectation that you can touch them and make them whole. Amen.