Did ancient Rizpah pray to you as she beat off birds by day and beasts by night? I imagine her hands never resting and her heart beating fast.
I want to know, did she feel her mind would go before her body? But the King intervened…finally. Her sons’ honor restored and thus hers.
You see the birds that swoop. You hear the snarl of beasts. You, my King, are my only hope. Restore, I pray to You.
Jesus’ Name, Amen.
(Note to readers: The concept of "mourning" prayers in my "morning prayers" is not lost on me. Yes, these are words from a grieving mother. We so often pray from our "location" and grief is where I am.)
Unfamiliar with the story of Rizpah, I write about her here.