A House Without Prayer Attitudes flying with no destination, the only words exchanged in conversation are words of hate, if it's not the words it's the manner in which we speak. the house is hot and steaming, mama's prayer used to keep this house together, through the storms and bad weather she held the fork down with her fervent effectual prayers. If I was out on the road headed towards destruction, I knew it was her prayers that kept me. I can't endure discourse of discouragement because not only does it bother my intellect, but it cuts me in a place I didn't know was exposed. If I don't leave, If I don't walk out, I'll wind up doing the regretable, so I must pray. I have to turn from my wicked ways, walk towards the light from which I had gone astray. Sometimes you have to lay your head on your pillow and cry out, "Lord make this house a home, we need your presence, we need your love, your peace..we can't let hatred consume us, breathing in it's oxygen, because sooner or later it will be cut off, our blood pressure will rise, and if we die before repentance, at the GATE we will be denied..Lord HELP..we need you now!" When mama can't pray, who's left to pray? ME..do I leave, do I stay? I'll just pray and the let the Lord have His Way.