You may not have noticed, but I think God is reminding me that I know far too little about prayer. Lately, I have felt beyond frustrated. I feel discouraged, lost... displaced. (Displaced, by the way, meaning obsolete, lacking, or forgotten). My heart is burdened by thoughts and emotions not mine to have.
On more than one occasion, I have found myself hiding in a corner crying out. Begging for answers, help, miracles. I find myself comforting my screaming nephew, while feeling my own inconsolable heart beat. Even words, the life and blood of my soul, can't quite seem to capture the condition of my heart. Is it grief stricken? Weary? Despondent? My sweet friends have nothing left to offer me besides their prayers. Yes, they can hold me, they can advise me, but at the end of the day it is praying with them that fills my heart with hope as the morning sun fills the dawn sky.
Prayer is the desperate man's saving grace. It holds more power than money, fame, or skill. It fills the hearts of the helpless, the hopeless, the worthless, and the lost. It offers comfort, solace, hope. It is a promise, a security blanket, a child's lullaby. It is a direct means of communicating with our Heavenly Father. When we pray in our weakness, in our helplessness, we become the crying woman whose tears, hair, and perfume anoint the feet of the Most Holy. So when all else fails, pray. It is the first and last resort. And to be perfectly honest, it is your only hope.
No comments:
Post a Comment