Sunday Morning Serenity

Do not be far from me, for trouble is near,
and there is no one to help." Psalm 22:11 
 

Do you ever speed-pray? Maybe you're having a busy morning and you're running late for work, when Mama calls to tell you about a friend or family member who's sick or going through a hard time, and you do a quick "God bless so-and-so and please, please, help them to get better" on your way out the door? I have absolutely done that. And when I compare those prayers to the fervent ones of Isaiah and Jeremiah (I have finally arrived at the prophets in my Old Testament reading), I have to wonder what God thinks of them. There's a difference between how I pray when I feel like everything's probably going to be okay and how I pray when I'm not at all sure about that. Once, I was on a night flight to New York during a horrible storm—the kind where the plane would abruptly drop so far and so fast that passengers audibly squealed and gasped. The pilot had already announced that we might have to divert to a different location, and we were in a holding pattern for what seemed like an eternity. I was seated next to an African American woman who had gone home to Alabama to attend a funeral and was on her way back to Queens. After the plane did its worst drop through the sky, she sensed my terror, grabbed my hand, and said, "Nothing you can do—just give it to Jesus." And the two of us prayed out loud on a crowded Delta jet. I can't remember exactly what she looked like, but I vividly remember how her hand felt clasping mine. I remember the comforting sound of her voice in prayer. I remember her faith and how she used it to restore mine. Finally, the pilot saw a window in the weather, did the air-born equivalent of putting the pedal to the metal, and broke through the clouds. After our endless flight in darkness, suddenly the glittering Manhattan skyline appeared beneath us, and the words "I'll see the lights of Glory and I'll know He lives" popped into my head—a line from the hymn "Because He Lives." What we two women said on that plane—actually, what many people likely said on that plane—was a fervent, sincere prayer. Nothing on-the-fly (no pun intended) about it. And that's what every prayer should be—fervent, sincere, committed. My prayer life is a work in progress. It needs to be so much better than it is. The people I pray for, and the God I pray to, deserve so much more than what I've been offering. This morning I prayed, sincerely, that the friends who lost their jobs last week will be guided to a new path; that a loved one's health will be restored; and that a precious five-year-old whom I've never met will be rescued and safely returned to his family in a small Alabama town.  
 

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted
and saves those who are crushed in spirit. Psalm 34:18 

Comments

[Rose Chandler Johnson]

This is so touching and relevant. I understand exactly. And so does our Lord. Just give it to Jesus. What a precious moment and what a precious memory. Thank you so much for sharing it so vividly with us this morning.
http://www.writemomentswithgod.blogspot.com

[Kacey]

Your prayers are straight from the heart. I think that's what God cares about.

[Valerie]

Thanks, my sweet cousin:)

[Valerie]

Thanks so much!

[ginger parsons]

love this Val and You!

[Valerie]

A big hug to my Ging!!