For every heart whose fooled by old tradition

For melted candlesticks within the sand

For all the bodies broken by religion

I pray you'd be transformed by Jesus' hand

For motions made to portraits hung by men

For kneeling before altars made of stone

For missing that your God is still your friend

I pray you'd know in Him you aren't alone

For joyless chants in monotone on Sunday

For clamoring to kiss the golden cross

For returning to your sin as soon as Monday

I pray your heart would break for all the lost 

For echos from the footsteps of the priest  

For clanging of the coins to buy their grace

For every scripture reading that has ceased 

I pray you'd meet our Lord - face to face. 

Something I wrote after praying in an orthodox church and watching people come and go for a few hours. The lingering thought was "If only they knew how close you really are, Lord." 

Pray for Armenia