We are three months into the new year, and life keeps throwing us curves. Some of those curves hold hardballs, which have knocked us flat on our rears. We get up, dust ourselves off, and try again.
People whom I love deeply continue to be weighed down with burdens, and I feel powerless to help them. My efforts are weak and ineffectual, and I wonder why my Father in Heaven hasn't provided a way for me to alleviate the suffering of family and friends.
Then I remember. He has. He has given me, has given all of us, a constant form of communication with Him. Prayer.
"Prayer is the soul's sincere desire." So go the words of a hymn. (Have you noticed that I quote hymns a lot, especially when my own words are inadequate?)
I pray in the morning and the evening kneeling at my bedside, but they are not the only prayers I utter. I pray when I'm walking. I pray when I'm driving. I pray when I'm standing in line at a store. I pray always, knowing that the Father will hear me, knowing that He will accept my fumbling words. Too frequently, though, my prayers are filled with my beseeching Him for blessings. Then I remember that I must thank Him as well, rendering my gratitude for all the miracles He has bestowed upon me and those I love.
So, for today, I am grateful for the power of prayer and for a loving Father who is always there.
"Prayer is. . . a Christian's native air." So go the words of a hymn. There do seem to be a lot of blessings to ask for, don't there? Such as blessing me to be able to handle an ungrateful child. But, if I want that blessing, shouldn't I be more grateful myself? Thanks for the answer to my prayers, Jane.
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