🧺 Drawn from the Water
Based on Exodus 2:1–9

A mother wept, her heart beat wild,
For Pharaoh’s law would claim her child.
But in her faith, she made a way
A basket bed, some hope, and hay.

She placed him gently in the reeds,
And trusted God to meet their needs.
The Nile flowed on, a silent prayer,
While angels hovered, guarding there.

His sister watched from far yet near,
Her eyes alert, her soul in fear.
Would someone kind come close enough?
Would fate be gentle, not so rough?

Then Pharaoh’s daughter came to bathe,
And saw the child the waters gave.
She heard his cry, her heart was stirred,
A foreign babe—but still, her word.

“This is a Hebrew child,” she sighed.
Yet not with scorn, but grace and pride.
And then the sister, bold and true,
Stepped forward, asking what to do.

“Shall I find a nurse to care with grace?”
A mother’s love behind her face.
And so, in wonder, God did weave
The mother paid, her son retrieved!

She nursed him strong, she held him near,
While Pharaoh’s court drew ever near.
And when he grew, she let him go
A prince now raised, whom God would show.

📖 Key Verse – Exodus 2:9 (NIV)

“Take this baby and nurse him for me,” the princess told the baby’s mother. “I will pay you for your help.” So the woman took her baby home and nursed him.

For God’s Honor and Glory
MarkWaldrop

      A Prayer for Texas

O Lord, we lift our hearts today,
For Texas families lost in dismay.
Some seek the ones they cannot find
Their faces etched within their mind.

Hold every heart that waits and weeps,
While hope still stirs in shadows deep.
Guide every search, each rescue call,
And catch the tears that gently fall.

For those who mourn, whose hearts now break,
Wrap them in peace that none can fake.
Let comfort rise through sorrow’s storm,
And love, not loss, become the norm.

We thank You for the brave and strong,
The first responders who rush along
Through flood or flame, through fear and night,
They move with mercy, fueled by light.

So hear our prayer, both loud and still,
And give this weary land Your will.
Let healing come, let hope restore
And bring the missing safely to the door.

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”
— Psalm 34:18 (NIV)


Amen. 🙏

MarkWaldrop

What will it take, this fragile dream,
To calm the lands, let silence gleam?
Where desert sands and rivers flow,
Will seeds of peace find room to grow?

Years of sorrow, voices lost,
What price remains, what human cost?
Borders drawn by hands long gone,
Yet hearts still beat, and life goes on.

It takes the courage to forgive,
A chance for all to simply live.
To see beyond the lines and hate,
To let compassion navigate.

It takes a strength to pause and say
Let’s end the bloodshed here today.
To build a world where children play,
Not fearing bombs or endless fray.

The leaders’ hands, the people’s hearts,
Must work as one to make new starts.
With every prayer, each tear that falls,
The earth cries out, a voice that calls.

What will it take? Perhaps we know:
The will to stay, the strength to grow.
For in the soil of pain and loss,
May hope take root, and peace emboss.

So let us dream, and let us dare,
To plant the seeds with endless care.
For peace is more than just a cease
It’s every step toward lasting peace.

Created by
MarkWaldrop

🕊️ Prayer for Peace in the Middle East 🕊️

Let olive branches rise above,
The noise of war, the lack of love.
Let ancient lands once torn by strife,
Embrace again the gift of life.

Where prophets walked and nations bleed,
Lord, plant again a healing seed.
Let justice roll, let mercy reign,
And break the walls of hate and pain.

May swords be turned to tools of grace,
And peace take root in every place.
O God of Abraham, still near
Bring hope, bring peace, wipe every tear.

Psa 122:6  Pray for the peace of Jerusalem: they shall prosper that love thee.
Psa 122:7  Peace be within thy walls, and prosperity within thy palaces.

For God’s Honor and Glory
MarkWaldrop

       Crushing Grapes

Some days we toast with finest wine,
A vintage sweet, aged well with time.
The sun is warm, the skies are clear,
And joy flows freely, year to year.

But then there come the aching days,
Of pressing burdens, clouded grays.
The joy once bottled now escapes
We’re not sipping wine… we’re crushing grapes.

We feel the weight, the turning stone,
The strain of striving all alone.
Yet in the pressing, something brews
A deeper strength, a grander view.

For God is working through the squeeze,
Transforming bitter into peace.
What seems like loss, He will refine
Today’s crushed grapes are tomorrow’s wine.

So lift your heart, though hands may shake,
There’s purpose in each bruise and break.
The sweetest sips, the richest blends,
Are born through trials—and grace that mends.

2Co 4:8  We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair 

For Gods Honor and Glory
MarkWaldrop