Pat answers and formulas never stuck with me or to me for
very long. Maybe I’m simply too much of a real folk. My prayer journey definitely has been real
(authentic), challenging, and exciting. I’ve wondered. I’ve doubted. I’ve
misunderstood. I’ve misinterpreted.
I’ve been real in the way I converse with the Trinity. I’ve gone “hat-in-hand” before the throne. I’ve knocked loudly on
the palace door, demanding that I be given an opportunity to have a word with
the King. I’ve entered boldly, knowing that God was awaiting my arrival. Most
frequently, though, I go to Him with a childlike, not childish (although I do
sometimes fall into that), faith.
I’ve prayed indoors and out. Filled with trepidation and
hope, I’ve knelt before altars at a wide variety of churches, cathedrals, seminaries, homes, and various other places. I’ve knelt in
my heart – while driving, walking, hiking, cleaning, traveling, and
participating in numerous other activities – before the Lord. I’ve sat quietly
under a live oak, a cypress, a pine, an aspen, a redwood, a banyan, a cedar,
and numerous other trees to stretch my praying soul toward the heavens. I’ve
prayed along highways and byways. Like a corked bottle carrying a message from
one shoreline to another, I’ve released my prayers at the edges of and from atop and from below the surfaces of some incredible waterways: streams, creeks, rivers, bays, gulfs,
seas, and oceans.
I’ve wrestled in my heart and lain prostrate with my face
flat to the floor and my body sprawled before our loving God.
I’ve prayed formal prayers, written prayers, spontaneous
prayers, short prayers, long prayers, and even one-word prayers. I’ve prayed
what I eventually came to call “drive-by shooting” prayers. Driving by some
location, I’d be led to pray and did.
I’ve prayed out loud. I’ve prayed in silence, in screams, in
a voice so small that no one but God could hear it. I’ve prayed internally,
while holding a life-changing conversation with one of God’s real
folks. I’ve prayed with words, ink, keyboard strokes, crayons, chalk,
origami, rocks, beads, crosses, sighs, tears, smiles, and lots of questions.
I’ve been more real with God than with any
human I’ve ever met or known.
“So what?” you might ask. So, God has met me where I am,
taught me as I learn best, listened patiently as I’ve taken different prayer
paths, gently guided me through the Holy Spirit’s leading.
He knows me. He still loves me. He listens to me. He
converses with me, a real folk. Our Lord has richly blessed me
and sorely challenged me with some incredible (sometimes UNBELIEVABLE)
experiences as a result of His calling me to be a real folk and
to pray real.
We are all His real
folks, and God yearns to
engage in a real conversation with each of us.
I end this post in prayer that in
some way God uses these words to encourage you in your conversations with Him.
In doing so, I also hope that you please remember me in your prayers, as I remember
you in mine. zoe :o)
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