Max Lucado wrote this and then prayed it
"live" Saturday
on John Maxwell's Team Simulcast heard in
hundreds of churches
around the U.S.
DO IT AGAIN, LORD
Max Lucado © September 15, 2001
Dear Lord,
We're still hoping we'll wake up.
We're still hoping we'll open a sleepy eye
and think,
"What a horrible dream."
But we won't, will we, Father?
What we saw was not a dream.
Planes did gouge towers.
Flames did consume our fortress.
People did perish.
It was no dream and, dear Father, we are
sad.
There is a ballet dancer who will no longer
dance
and a doctor who will no longer heal.
A church has lost her priest, a classroom
is minus a teacher.
Cora ran a food pantry. Paige was
a counselor
and Dana, dearest Father, Dana was only
three years old.
(Who held her in those final moments?)
We are sad, Father.
For as the innocent are buried, our innocence
is buried as well.
We thought we were safe.
Perhaps we should have known better. But
we didn't.
And so we come to you.
We don't ask you for help; we beg you for
it.
We don't request it; we implore it.
We know what you can do. We've read the
accounts.
We've pondered the stories and now we plead,
"Do it again, Lord. Do it again."
Remember Joseph? You rescued him from the
pit.
You can do the same for us.
Do it again, Lord.
Remember the Hebrews in Egypt?
You protected their children from the angel
of death.
We have children too, Lord.
Do it again.
And Sarah? Remember her prayers? You heard
them.
Joshua? Remember his fears? You inspired
him.
The women at the tomb?
You resurrected their hope.
The doubts of Thomas? You took them away.
Do it again, Lord. Do it again.
You changed Daniel from a captive into a
king's counselor.
You took Peter the fisherman and made him
Peter an apostle.
Because of you, David went from leading
sheep to leading armies.
Do it again, Lord, for we need counselors
today, Lord.
We need apostles. We need leaders.
Do it again, dear Lord.
Most of all, do again what you did at Calvary.
What we saw here last Tuesday, you saw there
that Friday.
Innocence slaughtered. Goodness murdered.
Mothers weeping. Evil dancing.
Just as the smoke eclipsed our morning,
so the darkness fell on your Son.
Just as our towers were shattered,
the very Tower of Eternity was pierced.
And by dusk, heaven's sweetest song was
silent,
buried behind a rock.
But you did not waver, O Lord. You
did not waver.
After three days in a dark hole,
you rolled the rock and rumbled the earth
and turned the darkest Friday into the brightest
Sunday.
Do it again, Lord.
Grant us a September Easter.
We thank you, dear Father, for these hours
of unity.
Christians are praying with Jews.
Republicans are standing with Democrats.
Skin colors have been covered by the ash
of burning buildings.
We thank you for these hours of unity.
And we thank you for these hours of prayer.
The Enemy sought to bring us to our knees
and succeeded.
He had no idea, however, that we would kneel
before you.
And he has no idea what you can do.
Let your mercy be upon our President, Vice
President, and their families.
Grant to those who lead us wisdom beyond
their years and experience.
Have mercy upon the souls who have departed
and the wounded who remain.
Give us grace that we might forgive and
faith that we might believe.
And look kindly upon your church.
For two thousand years you've used her to
heal a hurting world.
Do it again, Lord.
Do it again.
Through Christ,
Amen.