A Note from the Poet
Dear Reader,
These two poems were born from the same place: the quiet, overwhelming discovery that our God is not only big enough, but willing enough, to meet us in the exact places of our need.
The first poem simply tells what happened—money that appeared where there was none, a stranger’s voice quoting Psalm 23 until a mother’s storm grew still, hospitality and kindness that asked for nothing in return, strength and calm that were never mine to claim. It is a record of miraculous provision, offered as a testimony that the same God still walks hospital corridors and long roads of worry.
The second poem is the breath that followed. After tasting such goodness, a question rose in me that I could not ignore: Perhaps my prayers have been too small. It is less a statement of achievement and more a humble invitation—to myself and to you—to enlarge our asking in the light of a God who has already proven He multiplies the little and fills the empty places.
I offer both poems together, not as polished theology, but as lived wonder. May they remind you that provision is real, that peace can arrive through the most unexpected voices, and that the God who has already given so much is still inviting us to pray larger than our fears.
With gratitude for the journey,
and hope that you, too, will taste the wideness of His hand,
—The Poet
I have tasted the wideness of Your hand:
money lying quiet between the thin leaves of a Book,
hospitality that asked for nothing and gave everything,
kindness so tender it broke open dry eyes,
an angel’s voice speaking Psalm twenty-three
until the storm inside a mother’s heart fell silent.
Strength arrived that was never mine to claim.
Calm settled deeper than breath.
And now the thought rises, soft and sharp:
Perhaps my prayers have been too small.
After provision rose where nothing lived,
after empty pockets and empty rooms were filled,
after peace that passes understanding rested on us—
how can I still ask for crumbs
when the table of heaven has already been set?
You are the God who multiplies the little,
who opens closed doors with a single word,
who walks hospital corridors and long southern roads,
who turns distress into quiet
and lack into more than enough.
So enlarge my asking, Lord.
Let me pray past the edges of my fear,
past the borders of what I can imagine,
past the limits of yesterday’s need.
Your goodness has already proven
that nothing is too hard,
nothing is too late,
nothing is beyond the reach of Your providential love.
Teach me to pray large—
not because I am bold,
but because You are bigger
than every small prayer
I once thought was enough.
To God be the glory—-always and only!
Passionately Pursuing Christ 