Sarah: Ooooooohhhhh! This sounds fun!
Sarah: "Accountable?"
Sarah: "Lazy?"
Sarah: "Better boy plan?"
Sarah: "Poop particle?"
Me: Wow. I guess I DO overuse a LOT of words! No...the word was "pray."
Okay...I admit it. I am occasionally guilty of using the word pray in a somewhat fast-and-loose fashion and ONCE IN AWHILE (though rarely) in a self-advantageous manner. For example, when I am asked, on-the-spot, to volunteer for an activity that I have NO desire or (gasp) no INTENTION of doing, I will ask for time to prayfully consider the request (and then I run away...aspiring never to return). I am ashamed. I have been known...again, in isolated instances...to joke that a matter constructed from human foible or lack of foresight might require prayer. For this, I am moderately repentant (and also say, "Get a grip, guys! It's just a joke! Get your head out of your...oops. Allow me to interrupt this brief moment of outrage with penitent prayer).
But prayer has become such a natural part of my life that I can see where some might interpret it as trite. Especially coming from me. I do not stand out as a shining star when it comes to being the Lord's representative. Praying over the Pepsi vending machine might seem excessive and unnecessary but I would contend that I am not the only one to have uttered a word of thanks to God when that sweet salvation is delivered. I recently laid hands on our school's copier...trusting that only the power of my Creator could prevent that machine from jamming up on every third document. "What is Amy doing?" someone asked as they walked into the quiet room. "Shhhh...she's healing the copier," my friend Jill said. I thank God when I miss hitting a deer. I ask His help in getting Savannah's foster dog adopted. I pray CONSTANTLY for patience in the classroom. "You talk to the ceiling a LOT," one of my 4th graders once told me.
"I just think that some people might feel uncomfortable when you tell them that you're praying for them," Savannah tried to explain. Naturally, I was outraged. "Un-com-fort-able?" I screeched, drawing out each syllable for emphasis, "Well...f[@% that!" "O-kay..." Savannah said slowly, "Wow. We're really hitting both sides of the spectrum here."
I was really feeling flummoxed here. Obviously, adapting to the Christian World after having spent so much of my leisure time in the land of secular living was challenging. I used to want to punch people in the face when they asked for Jesus's help in finding their car keys. Surely Jesus had MUCH more important things to do. For goodness sake, what are car keys in the wake of floods, disease, drought, and disorder? First of all...shame on me for dictating what God should care about. It is not my job to prioritize His actions. And who am I to presume what is truly important? I am certainly not privy to God's plan. I am grateful when He shows up in the small details of my life. For me...it is comforting and miraculous.
Many people scoff at prayer. They want human action. Volunteer. Give money. Get off your ass. Actually "help." I was selfish BEFORE I became a Christian. I am selfish NOW that I am a Christian. But prayer for others is a truly selfless act. When I say that I'm praying for you...and I do...my thoughts, my heart, my soul is focused on YOUR needs. I am begging God to intercede on your behalf. For me...that is infinitely more powerful than the card I might send...the pie I might bake...the donation I might make. So yeah. I will volunteer (or make my husband volunteer for me). I will give money. I will get off my ass. But first I'll get on my knees. And pray.
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