Prayerfully Poetic

A Collection of Prayerful Poems by Tim McGee

New Poems

  • When I Lift Your Name

    I do not hold the cure,nor the answer,nor the strength to mend what’s broken,but I know the One who does. In silence, then,deeper than my knowing,I lift your name to Godlike a fragile flame in trembling hands,to the altar of mercy. Not to fix,but to carry.Not to control,but to surrender. In this offering,somehow,your pain becomes… Read more

  • The Word Made Flesh

    The Word was not a soundbut the stillness before soundnot speechbut the meaning that gives speech weightnot thoughtbut the source from which all thoughts emergeHe was before breathand yet He breathed Fleshnot symbol nor shadowbut matter which bruisescells that hungerbones that breakHe entered the ribcage of creationand let His heart beat there He did not… Read more

  • Pass it On

    Maybe this morningyou’ll catch me being Christ to someone.A quiet kindness, unseen yet felt,a patience that steadies a weary heart,a love that does not ask but gives. Maybe this morningyou’ll see the face of God in my eyes.No radiant brilliance or grandeur,just a soft smile of mercy,and the warmth of a heart turned outward. Maybe… Read more

  • Mercy

    Is not a wordbut a movement.It stoops beside the broken man,bleeding by the road,and will not pass by. It does not tally wrongslike coins in a ledger,but breaks the scaleand offers bread instead. Mercy speaks softlyto the woman in shame,“Neither do I condemn you,”and in the same breath:“Go, sin no more.”It is not indulgence.It is… Read more

  • If I may ask

    It seems clear while watchingthe heron lift from the pond,wings stretching toward the sky,moving the air beneath its expanse,God’s in charge. I am not. And yet, if I may ask,as one asks the windwhy it bends the palm but fells the oak? what of love,pulling us toward one anotherwhile leading us to You? While no… Read more

  • My Revelation

    The revelation given to me,a witness in the square,as I stood as one among thousands,the multitude drawn as by the breath of the Spirit. And I, a pilgrim,took my place beside a pillar of stone,watchful, praying, awaiting the sign. My wife was among the throng,caught in the river of humanity,as crimson-clad men entered the sacred… Read more

  • I am Yours

    Not my will,for it falters with fearand bends toward comfort.But Yours,steady and burningwith holy love. Teach me to liveas You have spoken,not just in great moments,but in the quiet yesof morning surrender,in the unseen kindness,in the heavy lifting of grace. You have made menot for self-glory,but for Your delight,reflecting Your mercy,carrying Your peace,being a living… Read more

  • The Abyss of Mercy

    There is an oceandeeper than sorrow,wider than the cry of a thousand aching hearts.It is Mercy,unfolding from the pierced side of Christ,spilling into the dust of our ruin. Faustina saw it:a torrent of Light,two rays like living breath,one of blood and one of water,justice and pardon,the wound and the healing,the cross and the crown. She… Read more

  • Broken Crayons

    The snapped crayon,splintered in weary hands,no longer whole, no longer perfect—just a fragment of what once was. God gathers the pieces,pressing them against the canvas of eternity,where cracks do not limit color,but deepen its depth, its meaning, its grace. The jagged edges, the worn-down tips,the wax too melted to hold its shape.He does not discard,… Read more

  • We Watched, We Sang, We Tell

    We watched Him die,the sky torn open,the earth groaning beneath the weight of sorrow.We stood, breathless,at the foot of the splintered tree,where mercy bled and hope seemed lost. We wept  (oh, how we wept)until the silence of the tombbecame the silence of our own hearts. But then,O morning of mornings!stone rolled away, light pouring in,and… Read more