Take Responsibility....

I work with many excellent people at the charter school where I teach.  One of those people has been at the school since its inception back in 1999.  His name is Glenn, and he has been the financial manager from the very beginning, back when we had one building and three modulars (two of which were classrooms when I was a student at Hayden Elementary back in the early 1980’s).  During my first year of teaching at the charter school, in 2001, Glenn said something at a staff meeting that really stuck with me:   “Create your own environment or someone will create it for you.”  What I took that to mean was that we were being empowered to shape not only our classroom environment, but our entire school environment as well.  The shape of things to come was in our hands. 

I have thought often of those words, and it reminds me that the tone and “climate” of my classroom is not something that just happens each year, but it’s something I shape, whether I am aware of it or not.  This week I came across a quote that added to Glenn’s wisdom.  I already mentioned that I subscribe to a neat website called “Habit Forge.”  This week the site sent me the following quote: 

"Take full responsibility for your environment and behaviors. Everything you do sets you up for success or puts another obstacle in your way."  

This quote added another layer to Glenn’s wisdom.  Not only is the shape of our environment in our own hands, but the stresses of our environment are in our hands as well.  This is not to say that nebulous “outside forces” don’t sometimes interrupt the flow of our lives, but I suspect that more often than not, WE interrupt the flow all by ourselves, either because of inaction or because we have taken the wrong action. 

“Everything you do sets you up for success or puts another obstacle in your way.”  There is profound wisdom in this concept.  For instance, I currently have (no joke) two boxes and one stuffed backpack full of papers to grade.    While I would really like to totally goof off all weekend long, I now have to spend probably a good 8 hours at the dining room table plowing through the stacks.  Could I blame all kinds of evil outside forces on my suffering?  Sure.  But when I’m honest with myself, I know that yesterday evening I decided to go to bed early instead of tackling a set of papers.  I was so tired, I just couldn’t help myself.  But as I lay my head on my super soft down pillow, I knew I was now going to have to work on Memorial Day.  But I’ll make it fun, put a good movie on, make some snacks, celebrate each vanquished pile of papers with cheers and pats on my back.  I, in essence, put an obstacle in my own path.  And while I was completely aware of this particular obstacle, I wonder how many barriers I put in my own way without even realizing it.  I would say that most of my personal barriers are due to inaction, primarily because (truth be told) I lean toward laziness and procrastination.  Today I concentrated every free moment, prep period, and break to grading projects, and I was quickly reminded how efficiently I can grade when I stay focused.  All that misery I caused myself worrying about it this week would have been gone if I had just followed Nike’s advice to “Just Do It!” 

I plan to tuck this thought from Habit Forge into my memory bank for future examination.  While it would really be more fun to just blame some external force for all of my suffering, when I get honest with myself I think I’ll find the culprit happens to look just like me, bags under her eyes and all.  And so I think I will habitually ask myself:  What am I doing to set myself up for success?  Keep doing those things!  What am I doing that is creating barriers?  Find and obliterate them!   

Take Refuge...

When my dad lived in the family farmhouse on the Rathdrum prairie, our view was rolling hills of barley or alfalfa; our air conditioning was a breeze rustling through the grass; our music was birdsong floating across the acres.  My brother and I spent a lot of time playing outside, building forts, climbing trees, and running through the sprinkler.  Our skin was permanently streaked with dirt and our hands sticky with sap.  Sunrays bathed us in summer warmth and we were free…free of worry or to-do lists.  We were free to run and play and get knee-deep in nature. 

I think this is why I love nature so much to this day.  Fields and forest were our jungle gym.  The forts we built were our castles.  To this day, nature speaks to me on a visceral level and soothes my soul.  God speaks to people in the way that makes the most sense to them, and I know He speaks to me through His creation.  I have always said that the trees grow upward because they are reaching out for their Creator.  I look for my Creator in the beautiful world around me, and it is here that I usually feel the Spirit speak.

One late summer afternoon my dad put a sprinkler out on the lawn.  It was the fountain kind that is created by a very basic metal sprinkler head that has two holes in the top and sits flat on the ground.  The water sprays upward and arcs back down, watering a circular area of grass.  Looking out the kitchen window, I saw a sight that has stuck with me ever since.   Outside in the rain of water was a bird…I think perhaps a mourning dove…and her two babies.  Her young were fully feathered and probably learning how to fend for themselves.  It was a hot day.  The three had found the sprinkler and, like my brother and me so many times before, sought to cool off in the gentle spray.  The dove was doing something unusual, however, which had caught my attention in the first place.  As her young enjoyed the cool arcs of water, she was standing behind them, her wings outstretched.  At first I thought that perhaps she had been wounded somehow, that something had happened to her, but as I watched I realized that she was, in fact, protecting her young.  As they enjoyed the cool water and hopped about tentatively on the lawn, their mother was standing vigil behind them, keeping them safely ensconced in her wings.  She was vigilant, single-minded, and focused.  Her sole endeavor was to keep her babies safe.  It was a sight that kept me in rapt attention at the window even though I was only a teenager.

This, I now realize, is how God views us.  He is vigilant, He is focused, and His concern is for our safety.  He guards our souls as surely as that mama dove guarded her offspring against harm.  It’s a wonderful visual to carry and meditate on in times of need.  And so I hope that I can enjoy the cool rain and warm sunshine without fear, knowing that I have God’s vast and strong wings wrapped around me.  And so it is with you as well.  My prayer is that you will take joy in the wide wings of the Lord.

 

Psalm 91:1-4
He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High
    will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress,
    my God, in whom I trust.”
 For he will deliver you from the snare of the fowler
    and from the deadly pestilence.
He will cover you with his pinions,
    and under his wings you will find refuge…

The Truth Really Does Set You Free...

We all hate being lied to.  When someone stretches the truth, builds fiction around some granule of fact, or straight-up lies, there’s a feeling of betrayal that strikes at the heart.  We’ve all been there:  you’ve asked someone something and the response just doesn’t “ring true.”  We can usually sense deep down when someone is trying to pull the wool over our eyes.  People who lie actually prevent real relationships from forming.  Because how can you build a real relationship with someone who isn’t honest?  All of these things are pretty much givens.  I’m not saying anything profound, but I’ve been giving a lot of thought to good old honesty lately.  I try to live an honest life with my friends and family.  But (to be honest) I’ve found that I’m evasive when I am afraid of hurting someone’s feelings.  I’ll find a way to skirt an issue or duck around the truth if I think the truth might cause hurt feelings, misunderstandings, or a conflict.  I’m beginning to rethink this façade of kindness.  Though it seems kind and protective of me (at least as I try to justify it in my own mind), it’s actually harmful.  I'm preventing the relationship from being genuine and open.  And who wants a relationship that isn't real?

I also started wondering just how honest I am with myself.  How often do I lie to myself and actually believe it?  Sometimes I fear that I have been so eager to please others that I don’t fully know what I want or think for myself. 

I happened across Luke 16 this week, and verse 10 really struck me:  “One who is faithful in a very little is also faithful in much, and one who is dishonest in a very little is also dishonest in much.”  Little lies lead to bigger lies, and pretty soon the truth is caked over with heavy layers of uncertainty.  I think, though, that truthfulness is powerful, and just as one lie can lead to another and another, truth can multiply and grow and become effortless and freeing. 

When I “let it all hang out,” my relationships are deeper.  I am not hiding anything.  I am trusting those I care about to love me no matter what, and I am allowing them to see me in the full light of day.  I'm also inviting them to be honest with me.  We all know that the best friends on earth will tell us the truth (and also when we have something stuck in our teeth).  And while sometimes the truth does indeed hurt, it doesn’t always have to be brutal.  The more I strive for honesty even when I’m afraid it might cause conflict, the lighter my heart feels. 

When I Am Weak, Then I am Strong...

I have a lot of flaws.  Let me enumerate a sampling for you:

1.      Though I am a teacher and talk in front of people all day long, I get stammer-y, cotton-mouthed, and tongue-tied when I speak in front of groups of people.  Despite my best efforts to curtail this, it is a miracle when I actually speak in front of the public without looking like an idiot.

2.      I am very serious.  It’s hard for me to loosen up and just laugh sometimes. 

3.      My natural state is quite lazy. 

4.      I procrastinate.  A lot.

5.      I have a lousy memory.  If I don’t write something down, it’ll be gone in mere minutes.  Currently there is a note taped to the dashboard of my Subaru shouting OIL CHANGE!  at me in all caps.

6.      When someone offends me in a serious way, it is practically impossible for me to get past that on an emotional level.  Even if I want to just put the offense behind me and move on, it is very difficult to get my emotions to follow suit.

7.      Though I don’t think I’m stupid, it takes me a long time to process complicated (or semi-complicated) topics.  Take my mutual fund, for instance.  I listen intently to my financial planner, but my brain kind of blanks out and I lose track of the facts.  I am slow...

8.      I let my desk drawers get cluttered, and I wish I was more naturally organized.  I have to wrangle the pantry into an organized state at least every 3 to 4 months, but slowly over time it will become disorganized again.

9.      I’m not very competitive.  I lack a healthy “killer instinct” because I’m too laid-back.

Okay, there are probably many more things, but this list is what came to mind in the past 5 minutes.  I have fought against my flaws for years.  I have, in fact, conquered several of my flaws and eradicated them from my life.  For instance, in my teens and twenties, when I would get angry with someone (a boyfriend, for instance) I would completely shut down.  I would not (could not?) talk about it.  Instead, I would “kill ‘em with silence.”  And I mean for hours or days.  I never liked this about myself, and with a whole lot of will-power and prayer, I have really gotten past that unpleasant personality trait. 

But let’s face it:  Some flaws are such a part of our make-up we are probably stuck with them.   I don’t think I can ever take enough Toast Master speaking courses to actually get over my cotton-mouthed fear of public speaking.  Despite my innate desire to remember all the things I need to accomplish in a week, I’m still probably going to have to tape notes to my car keys and dashboard or I will forget them.  And here's a whopper:  I am working my butt off to get past my feelings about someone I work with who did something seriously shady, but I don’t know if I will ever want to be in the same room with her no matter how hard I try to “get over it.” 

I came across a quote this week that spoke to me regarding flaws.  In her book of essays titled Waiting for God, Simone Weil (who, though raised in a Jewish, middle-class family, worked at a an inner-city factory) chronicles her conversion to Christianity as a young woman.  “I think that it is useless to fight directly against natural weaknesses. One has to force oneself to act as though one did not have them in circumstances where a duty makes it imperative; and in the ordinary course of life one has to know these weaknesses, prudently take them into account, and strive to turn them to good purpose; for they are all capable of being put to some good purpose.”  I’m not gonna lie.  I had to read this quote several times to make sure I understood it properly.  What Weil is saying, I think, is that we humans can’t always fight against our natural weaknesses.  Sometimes will-power is not enough for us to overcome traits or flaws that are an innate part of who we are.  Sometimes it just is what it is. 

However, Weil doesn’t take an apathetic stance here either.  She goes on to say that at the very least we need to be aware of our weaknesses, take honest stock of those weaknesses, and see what we can do with (not in spite of) our weaknesses.  She says that our personal weaknesses can be put to good purpose.  I love this outlook on life.  Instead of being ashamed of my various and sundry flaws, I need to see how those flaws can be useful in my life. 

Today, the serious side of my nature really took stock of this concept as I sat in an early morning staff meeting.  The person I am having serious struggles with at work was across the room from me but within my peripheral vision.  I don’t want to be plagued with bad feelings for this person.  Rather, I want to have NO feelings for her at all.  I would be happy if I felt absolutely nothing for her.  In fact, I am really ashamed of myself that I have so little emotional self-control.  Instead, I sat there in that meeting and began to mentally stew.  I hate that I wasted even 5 minutes in a staff meeting on feeling anything about her.  So I started to pray.  I found the words of the Apostle Paul come to mind from 2 Corinthians 12: “…a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited.   Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me.   But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.   For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”  Keeping the words of Simone Weil in mind, I realized in that staff meeting that although I am not proud of this kind of evil aspect of myself, there is a good purpose in all of it.  Struggling against my nature and asking God to help me in my weakness is most certainly strengthening my faith.  And I am proud of the fact that I am alert to my inner nature and not just succumbing to it.  Instead, I’m striving to be a better person, and that is never wasted effort!  Fortunately, this particular struggle is mostly internal.  I doubt anyone at work (other than a few friends with whom I have confided) even know I feel the way I do. 

Having weaknesses is not the same as being weak.  In fact, being aware of our weaknesses and finding their good purpose can actually be incredibly powerful.

Of Beach Bodies and Oreo Cookies...

I have a confession to make:  I thoroughly enjoy reading tabloid magazines.   Now, I do have standards.  I don’t read the really sleazy tabloids (you know the ones...they declare that Bat Boy has been discovered in New York, or that Elvis was beamed up by space aliens).  I’m talking the “higher class” tabloids:  Us Weekly, Life & Style, Star.  Okay, quit mocking me.  I know that this isn’t exactly high quality reading.  Once I purchased some wine coolers and a copy of Us Weekly at the grocery store, and much to my horror a former student was the cashier.  I didn’t know if I should be more horrified that my student was ringing up my booze or the magazine.  Whatever…I’ve learned to embrace this embarrassing quality.   And my husband Chad absolutely fuels my fire.

Our Friday ritual has centered around our bed, Chinese food, and tabloid magazines for the bulk of our marriage.  We have this Friday ritual down to a science.  And to prove this, Chad came home from work this morning with some groceries and two magazines for my Friday enjoyment.  “Check out the headlines!” he exclaimed as he proudly displayed them for me.  “Best and Worst Beach Bodies!”  Chad knows what I like, and beach body stories are right up there with my favorite.  It’s a guilty pleasure, for sure.  I think what I like about this storyline is that you get to see celebrities with flaws.  Let’s face it, when you read a more quality magazine, maybe Fitness Magazine, or Real Simple (one of my favorites), or Glamour, we all know that the photographs have been professionally produced with the best lighting and angles, then they’ve likely been touched up in Photoshop…by the time the photo makes its way into the magazine, it’s a mere shadow of the true representation.  Plus, it’s nice to know that even celebrities have flaws and imperfect lives, despite what we see on television. 

What frustrates me, though, about the beach body storyline is the hypocrisy of the magazine writers themselves.   One story will splash a super-thin celebrity across the page with a headline like, “Scary Skinny!” and then two pages later a headline will read, “Will Jessica Simpson ever lose the baby weight?”  It’s pretty much a whiplash message of confusing body image stories, and it’s no wonder we women are confused about how to feel about our own physiques. 

I don’t have a perfect body.  I’m not terribly athletic, I don’t have a workout regimen, and I do love Oreos.  I don’t really deprive myself of food, but I’m not what I would call an unhealthy eater, either.   I typically wear a size 9 or 10 in jeans.  Would I like to be a size 8?  Absolutely.  Do I try to monitor what I eat?  For sure.  Now that spring has finally shown up, Chad and I enjoy evening walks, and I love taking more rigorous walks on the weekend.  I care about my heath.  I don’t want my creaky knees to get to the point that I need surgery.  But I’m pretty exhausted by all the conflicting images we women are bombarded with on a daily basis.  My ultimate goal is to find a pleasant balance between being good to my body and also just enjoying life without strict barriers holding me back. 

When I see women on the street, or when I hang out with my girlfriends, what I realize is that I don’t spend an awful lot of time noticing their physique.  I know this might sound cliché, but what I see is their internal beauty.  Sometimes when I am people-watching, I will see a woman who, by tabloid standards, would be deemed overweight, but she is in fact very beautiful.  And unique.  It’s funny that I can see that in a stranger, but not in myself.  I am really hard on myself.  I see my rear-end in a mirror, and I swear it looks like the back of a Greyhound bus.  My laptop is currently resting on my tummy pooch.  I want to learn to be okay with that…not in a gluttony sort of way, but in a “I like myself pooch and all” sort of way. 

Eva Longoria was photographed on the beach recently.  She was in a lounge chair, leaning up to get something resting near her feet, and her tummy bulged as the photographer snapped his shot.  Shortly after the photos hit the tabloids, Longoria was on the Dr. Oz show.  In her candid interview, she said that her divorce from Tony Parker was so hard on her that she pretty much stopped eating altogether; she was wasting away.  She said, "That's probably the time I got the most compliments because I was so skinny. I was not eating. I was depressed. I was sad. My diet was coffee. So people kept saying, 'You look amazing. Divorce agrees with you.”  Isn’t that crazy?  To applaud a woman’s weight loss that was caused by such tragedy?  What Longoria discovered, however, is that her body was in big trouble.  She went to a doctor who realized that her body was shutting down from lack of nutrients.  She had to undergo heavy vitamin treatments and finally got back on track.  She gained some much-needed weight....and now she’s in the “Best and Worst Beach Bodies” story for her tummy pooch.  Seriously?  We women need to be kind to our bodies and to each other’s bodies.  I need to accept my bulges that seem to be in all the wrong places.  I need to look at myself the same way that I look at my girlfriends and even strangers on the street, because I give them much more grace than I give myself. 

Thankfully I have a husband who loves me no matter what.  And he frequently (despite my protests) stocks the pantry with Oreos as proof.

"Do Not Be Afraid"

I am sitting here on my couch watching the up-to-the-minute news regarding the tragic events that occurred at the Boston Marathon on Monday.  Two days later we learned of a fertilizer plant explosion in the city of West, Texas.  Four months ago we watched in horror as the school shooting in Newtown, Connecticut was splashed across news outlets.  It seems like these shocking events keep coming, wave upon wave, and with each successive breaker our fears about the future increase.   I’ve heard plenty of conversations about the future of our nation.  I’ve heard lots of comments laced with sorrow, uncertainty, anger….and a lot of fear.

I heard somewhere that the phrase “do not be afraid” appears 365 times in the Bible.  I have not confirmed this fact, so I can’t say definitively that it’s true, but I like the idea.  And a quick search of an online Bible does prove that the phrase appears quite often.  The Book of Joshua is one of my favorite Old Testament texts because the Israelites were confused, afraid, and homeless, but God continues to remind the newbie leader Joshua to fear not and trust in God’s provision.  I’ll bet Joshua was quaking in his sandals at the thought of leading a ragged band of road-weary Israelites into the Promised Land.  And I’ll bet he got some funny looks when he told them the way to defeat Jericho was to march around the walls of the city until Jericho fell.  “Do not be afraid” was at the forefront of Joshua’s leadership.  It was practically his motto.  And we can learn a lot from this command.

I confess that I haven’t spent a lot of time in the Book of Nehemiah.  It’s one of those little Old Testament books that is lost in a forest of other little Old Testament books.  It’s easy to miss.  But Nehemiah has a lot to teach us as well.  His great “commission,” you might call it, is to rebuild Jerusalem for the Jews.  Despite opposition from some very powerful tribes (Philistines, Ammonites, and others), Nehemiah successfully rebuilt the walls of Jerusalem in just over 50 days.  It wasn’t an easy endeavor.  Israel prayed continually and arranged armed guards day and night around the perimeter.  In Chapter 4, which documents the rebuilding process, the people realized this:  “The strength of those who bear the burdens is failing. There is too much rubble. By ourselves we will not be able to rebuild the wall.”  The task looked impossible.  The odds were against them.  They were probably exhausted, worried, and fearful.  The people of Israel needed to pull together to finish the task.  And pull together they did.  Nehemiah recounts his next plan: “So in the lowest parts of the space behind the wall, in open places, I stationed the people by their clans, with their swords, their spears, and their bows.   And I looked and arose and said to the nobles and to the officials and to the rest of the people, “Do not be afraid of them. Remember the Lord, who is great and awesome, and fight for your brothers, your sons, your daughters, your wives, and your homes.”  Stick together, he says.  Clasp hands and keep working.  Don’t quit now. 

Imagine what would have happened if Israel had succumbed to their fear and frustration.  They might have failed to make a working plan.  They might have been overtaken by their enemies when they weren’t looking.  They might have quit altogether.  But they didn’t.  “Do not be afraid,” said Nehemiah.  Why?  Because fear paralyzes.  Fear locks our thoughts in a loop of panic.  It locks our feet to the ground.  Fear leads to inaction.  Some amount of fear is healthy.  Fear of failing can motivate a student to study hard for a final exam.  Fear can protect us from doing something dangerous or unhealthy.  But fear that becomes rooted, fear that doesn’t promote action, is crippling. 

I’m grateful for the news stories that are emerging that highlight acts of heroism in the wake of Boston’s tragedy.  Stories of average citizens springing into action to carry people to safety, bystanders staunching wounds with tourniquets fashioned from T-shirts, or strangers simply comforting others in the midst of chaos.  This is community.  This is the church body.  Action defines both.  Nehemiah did not take for granted the danger that loomed.  He had a plan.  He said, “When our enemies heard that it was known to us and that God had frustrated their plan, we all returned to the wall, each to his work.   From that day on, half of my servants worked on construction, and half held the spears, shields, bows, and coats of mail. And the leaders stood behind the whole house of Judah, who were building on the wall. Those who carried burdens were loaded in such a way that each labored on the work with one hand and held his weapon with the other.   And each of the builders had his sword strapped at his side while he built. The man who sounded the trumpet was beside me.   And I said to the nobles and to the officials and to the rest of the people, ‘The work is great and widely spread, and we are separated on the wall, far from one another.  In the place where you hear the sound of the trumpet, rally to us there. Our God will fight for us.’”  There was some serious multi-tasking going on!  This was not a group paralyzed by fear.  They didn’t ignore the fear, but they also didn’t ignore the work they set out to do.  Their fear perhaps even pushed them to work harder, keep a vigilant eye open for danger, and made their task even more urgent.  And their fear perhaps solidified their community even more. 

The Israelites kept one thought at the front of their mind during this time.  Nehemiah implored that they “Remember the Lord, who is great and awesome….Our God will fight for us.”  Their action and focus kept Israel from becoming proverbial “deer in the headlights.”  They kept their eyes on God and their feet and minds working. 

Even the most terrible darkness cannot snuff out the light.  Even the smallest flame will dispel darkness.  This is what I hope I will remember when I encounter darkness in all its forms, from national tragedies to the smallest personal struggles.  The Apostle Paul reminds us in 2 Corinthians 4 this:  “For God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.”  We carry God’s light within us, and we can carry that light wherever we go, whether that is rushing into the smoke created by a detonated bomb, the hunger of a homeless man in need of a meal, or the suffering of a friend who has just had a bad week. 

I offer prayers of healing for all those in the midst of tragedy, and prayers of thanksgiving for all of those who choose to carry light into darkness.

God Doesn't Care about Your Football Team....Or Does He?

This thought might seem cynical:  God doesn’t care about your team winning the playoffs.  I recall watching a football game, and good old Tim Tebow did his famous “Tebow” prayer pose after making a touchdown, and while I am sure that Tebow and his fans were praying for a win, I knew that the opposing team also had scores of people praying that their team would win.  And I realized that all those prayers wafting up to Heaven regarding a playoff win were probably not going to get answers…well, for at least 50% of those praying.  And I can’t help but wonder if God doesn’t find it a little amusing to hear those wistful prayers, especially when there are so many other pressing things going on down here on Earth. 

I didn’t like the pessimistic feeling of that thought in my head, though.  It’s not that I see God as some sort of cosmic Santa Clause who will rain down answers to prayers just because He loves us (which He does, more than we can understand), but I had always held onto the notion that all of our prayers are really important.  But let’s face it:  How many prayers have you prayed that weren’t answered (at least not in the way you were hoping for)?  I’ve got a pretty long list of prayers that have seemingly gone up into the clouds and gotten stuck in the fog.  And looking at my life now, I’m really glad that some of those prayers didn’t go according to my playbook. 

 

I’ve been praying one specific prayer for something like 2-3 months, every day.  I started to feel foolish at some point over praying this prayer again and again and again, and I also began to wonder if I was actually becoming a spiritual nag.  Was God thinking to Himself, Ugh.  Seriously kid.  This same request?  Quit bugging me, girl.  You’re making me nuts! 

I’d feel that way, I suppose, if I had to deal with that. 

After thinking more about this Tebow monkey-wrench and trying to understand the nature of prayer, I’ve come to the conclusion that, though it’s important, the prayer matters less than the pray-er.  If you get what I’m saying.  My approach at God’s throne, the act of coming to God with a plea, a confusion, a question, or a complaint, is the key.  Maybe it’s more about that daily connection with God than it is my specific need.  I’m not saying that our specific needs aren’t important, but maybe prayer is more than just that.

I considered putting that specific prayer out to pasture, worried that I was getting this whole prayer thing wrong.  And then, thanks to that little postcard from God, I realized what I was doing was just fine.  I already mentioned that I receive a daily devotion from Max Lucado in my email inbox.  This Monday, this is what I read:  “God will speak to you differently than He will speak to others.  Just because God spoke to Moses through a burning bush doesn’t mean we should all sit next to a bush waiting for God to speak.  No, God reveals His heart personally to each person.  We learn His will as we take up residence in His house and seek to listen to him every single day.”

This, I think, is what prayer is about:  Taking up residence in God’s house, becoming familiar with His voice, and simply being in His presence.  The more I realize this, the more I suspect that God hears every prayer that I pray.  Perhaps some of them make Him chuckle; perhaps with some He gently shakes His head saying, “Not this time, dear one.  But I have something else…”  And while not all of my prayers will be answered, God IS hearing them all.  And He is providing answers…I just may not connect my prayer with the answer that comes because I am sometimes dim.  But most importantly, I suspect that the more time I spend at God’s feet, the more I change, and then my prayers might change because my heart’s desires change as well.  So, I am going to continue praying that one specific prayer each day, and I’m not even going to fear that I’ve become a nag.  I’ll simply keep my eyes open for an answer, no matter what form the answer takes.