My neighbor, Mary, a longtime nurse, commented, “I am not very religious, but I have witnessed the power of prayer. I don’t know how it works, but when people pray, I have seen healing.”
I believe in the power of prayer.
Prayer to a God who is all-powerful, all-knowing, and all love.
This God is not impressed by lofty, well-rehearsed words, preferably with a British accent. (Thank goodness, as I tend to ramble and stumble when I pray out loud!)
And he doesn’t seem to care if we are on our knees or taking a jog, folding our hands or lifting them up, closing our eyes or staring at nothing, sitting in a pew or walking the aisles of CostCo buying stuff we never intended to buy.
It’s our heart he wants. And our humility.
Jesus told the story of two people praying – one a respected church leader and other a frowned-upon tax collector.
It went like this –
Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.
But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’
I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.” Luke 18:10-14
And get this, the Bible pretty much says, we can call God, “Daddy”. That’s the level of intimacy he desires. (Click here to learn more.)
This past week God showed up in my life when all I could pray was, HELP. And I may have added, “Daddy”.
And then I saw God move a mountain.
So yes, I believe in heart-felt prayer to a God who hears and answers.
One-word or rambling – in a British accent or not – in a valley or on a mountaintop – He offers hope, peace, and even joy.
Great. Though I enjoy British accents
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