i get prayer.
it’s not a holy moment for healing and restoration.
it isn’t a ritual.
pray with me, jesus asked the disciples and they tried. they really did. but they fell asleep.
i pray because i can’t do this.
the world around me. the things i know.
i pray because, really, what else is there to do?
it might change me someday. i might become the one who walks out my front door and gathers the broken into my arms. prayer could change me.
i may continue on as i am. doing the laundry. doing the dishes. making lunches and driving kids to school. half-hearted home improvements and too much series television. i may just continue as i am.
dallas willard has cancer. stage four. and i heard a gun shot on my street last night. and i dreamt of my dear friend. and these lovely people are hoping again that this month could be the month. the world is a prayer request list.
there is too much known and so i get it now.
the posture, the words. this humiliating repetition of saying i can do nothing and so i need you lord. amen.