Heavenly Father, I pray. If it's in your will, then let Barbara Martin and her supporters speak with the voice of the Holy Spirit itself. Even if it's as quiet and gentle as running water, or the voice of a songbird, let it thunder like a pounding earthquake in the minds of those present. No matter what the court rules, let the judge, the authoritarian neo-pharasees in the safety of their temples, and the very armed guards that protect them, return home this evening trembling, unable to sleep, uncomfortable with their very own existence, worried about their shadows. Let their consciences haunt them so much, not a year's supply of Zantac will relieve the burn in their hearts. Let them fidget, and fear, and weep when no one is looking, wondering all the time, what the problem is, and why they suffer. And if they rule unfairly, unjustly, when their own final moment of life comes, in the screaming instant of that coronary crunch, let them cry out in terror for forgiveness, at the horror of what they've done to honest people with their personal and corporate public power! Amen.
Dear Heavenly Father, we join with Coyote in his plea. Amen.
God bless you, Coyote. What a stunning prayer.
Another Amen for you, and for our country.