It is the evening of Wednesday, March 6th. As I enter in prayer now, I slow my body and quiet my mind,

setting my whole being in the presence of the living God who is ever present to me.

Recalling the day I've lived,

treasuring its blessing as I look into God's face and laying its burdens at his feet. It is he who made us and we are his. We are his people, the sheep of his pasture. Abba Father, in this Linton season of prayer and fasting, I ask that you not only work through

my prayers, but work within me, even beyond my prayers.

The laying aside of one appetite with the aid of your spirit gives rise to another.

Toon my taste buds to hunger for your presence.

My eyes to see your coming.

My ears to hear your whisper.

And my lips to savor your blessings which are showered upon me each day, even this one. Oh, A reading from Psalm 100, shout for joy to the Lord all the earth.

Worship the Lord with gladness.

Come before him with joyful songs.

Know that the Lord is God.

It is he who made us, and we are his.

We are his people are his people the sheep of his pasture

enter his gates with Thanksgiving and his courts with praise.

Give thanks to him and praise his name.

For the Lord is good and his love endures forever.

His faithfulness continues through all generations. I am his, a lamb in his pasture but like a sheep I often lose track of the

shepherd's voice lured away by other competing or deceptive voices, getting lost or stuck in the long journey of an

ordinary day. But even through my less than glorious moments, I am his, a part of his people and a part of his flock. Oh, Lord, I admit that I am like a sheep, lost, stuck and near-sided.

Lord, I admit that I am like a sheep, lost, stuck, and near-sighted. I pause to reflect on a moment today

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