A Bit of Beauty

A lady that I drop off Bible study lessons to each week has a corner of her yard that is full of amaryllis flowers. (Yes, they can be grown outside down here in Texas!) Two weeks ago I commented on how beautiful they are. Mrs. Sneed said “Yah won’t me ta giff yah a buhb?”

I thought she was asking me if I wanted her to cut off a bud for me to take home. I knew I had another hour at least on my drop-off route and the poor thing would never survive the heat in my car. (the Little Red Chariot is almost like Elijah’s flaming chariot sometimes - the air conditioner doesn’t work anymore...) So I politely declined saying, “No thank you, the flowers last longer on the stalk...” She interrupted with “Yee-ah, that’s why I wuz sayin I gonna giff you a buhb! I’ll go in git my spade.”

Ahhh! She was offering to give me a BULB! (I am still not used to this accent around here. I have to repeat myself to these Texans sometimes too, so I guess we Iowan’s have an accent after all.) Now I was excited! I’ll take it home to Mom and she can grow it in the house. She doesn’t have this color yet. And they are SO beautiful!

Mrs. Sneed unselfishly gave me a huge hunk of the plant that was actually three large bulbs. And two of them were loaded with buds about to bloom. She probably has no idea how special that was to me. I love flowers, and have been really missing not having any sort of garden at all this year...

Back at the trailer I got permission to use the mop bucket out of the church for a temporary “flower pot.” Had to use a little clay saucer as a shovel to get some red clay dirt off of the pile behind the church. I put pine catkins and needles in the very bottom because I can’t punch a drain-hole in the church’s mop bucket of course! Hope these things will give a place for the water to drain into to keep it from rotting the bulbs.  When it rains I just pull the bucket under the trailer to keep from drowning the poor thing.

And so I am blessed with a bit of beauty. It is SO pretty right now! Had to share!

Such People Still Exist

I have been going to the La Quinta Inn parking lot once a week to connect to the internet.  Thankfully their wireless doesn’t have a password because it was the only place in town where I could get high speed internet so I could post pictures to this blog.

One day in particular was especially hot and miserable.  (My air conditioner needs to be charged, so I have to sit there in my own juices in the roasting car.)  This day sweat was dripping down my forehead as well as soaking my shirt.  I had just talked to my Mom and found out that my cousin who is in prison lost his Dad...  I am sure I had a sad look on my tired, hot face.  I was deep in thought as I ordered a book for my cousin’s birthday from Amazon.com

“Excuse me.”  I jumped and panicked as I saw the hotel card in the wrinkled hands of an important looking woman.  Peering up at her from the window I was sure I was “busted” for using the wireless internet.  I guess they do care if I sit out here and use their internet...  great, now where can I go? I thought to myself as I sheepishly replied “Yes?” to the woman.

“Are you getting a room tonight?”

“No,” I said guiltily, “I was just using the internet to buy a book for my cousin from Amazon.”

She looked at me incredulously and then at my computer as if she’d never seen such a thing before.  She obviously wasn’t buying my story.

“Honey,” she continued with extreme sympathy “here is the card for our room.  We already bought the room, and we are leaving today.  You can stay in our room.  We saw you sitting here and already asked the clerk at the desk.  She agreed that you can have our room tonight.”

“Thank you,” I stammered trying to understand what was happening, “but I don’t need a room.  I live right here in Marshall, just seven miles up the road.  I just come here to the parking lot to use the internet once a week if that’s OK.  After I finish ordering this book, I will go.”

She looked at me with a frown and extended the card again pleadingly, “Are you sure you won’t take the room?  It’s already paid for.  Please take it.  My husband and I want to help you.”

“No thank you.  I live right here.  I don’t need a room.  Really.  I’m OK.  But thank you.”

She walked over to the car that had pulled up beside me earlier, unnoticed.  As she got into the drivers seat, her very elderly looking husband questioned her “Didn’t she take it?”  I couldn’t hear exactly what she replied but she looked over at me and then sorrowfully shook her head no and said something about “...she SAID she doesn’t need a room...”  As they pulled away the husband looked over at me with great pity.

The first thing I did was look in the rearview mirror - what am I looking like?!?!?!  Some of my hair was escaping from my pony tail, but it didn’t look any crazier than usual.  My face was red from the heat and dripping sweat, but so was everyone else’s face in Marshall that day.  My car was not full of clutter like a homeless person; in fact it was completely clean.  At first I was offended.  What in the world was she thinking about me?

Later when I told Mom and Dad on the phone, they had a good laugh and then went on and on about how sweet the couple was.  They somehow figured me to be a girl in need, and decided to pay for a room for the night.  Such people still exist!  Even though they misjudged my need, they helped me.  I have a less cynical view of the people “out there.”  There are still “good Samaritans” who will do what they can to help the stranger in need.  (read Jesus’ story in Luke 10:26-37 and He practiced what He preached!)

For Little Joseph

His voice was loud and thick as it rumbled across the playground
and laid heavy on the light giggles of the “it,” “tagged,” and “free.”

“Free” left his freedom and seemed to carry all that heaviness on his shoulders;
it made his return climb over the playground fence twice as long as the climb to get in.

“Boy! I told you to leave that be, an I come home and it’s all knocked over!”
(What could it be? a fence? a drain pipe? a plant in the garden so dreadfully fallen?)

It was as large as the arm that held it high, as solid as his heart;
and it swung down to meet the little head that ducked and escaped into the house.

His head was missed, but he’s no longer in freedom.
Fear, anger and rebellion are locked into his little heart --
A heart that one day will equal the hardness of the stick
that’s as big as his own arm.

And my lips won’t be around to tell...
my parked car won’t be there to influence his arm to swerve
and miss his little boy’s head.

Marshall! What are you doing to your children?

Victor - My Dog for a Day

Twice I came home at night to find the sewer “pipe” knocked over.  This accordion-style plastic tube that connects the trailer’s toilet to the church’s septic system usually stands up on plastic hoops that keep it at a good tilt for draining.  I couldn’t figure out who was coming around the trailer at night and tripping over that sewer pipe...

Then one stormy afternoon (back in March) I drove in and discovered the culprit!  There was a huge, gorgeous German Shepherd under my trailer.  I have been hoping for a stray cat to come along, but this was even better!

I slowly walked over and started standing up the sewer pipe again.  But the dog was scared.  He struggled to his feet and drug himself out from under the trailer, literally.  The poor thing had no use of his front right leg.  It hung from the shoulder and was all bloody on one side.

A bucket of water and food and coaxing... nothing helped.  He always stayed a good 30 yards away from me, and kept dragging himself toward the busy interstate.  I quickly retreated and was relieved to see that the dog didn’t have the energy to climb the bank to the road.  He was delirious and finally collapsed in the middle of the 3 acres of grassy lawn to lick his leg.  It started pouring rain, but he just stayed there...

No one would come help me... How would I ever get him into the car and to the vet myself?  He was injured and would probably bite me if I could get close enough...

Finally, I called the Animal Control Center and they promised they would come get him.  They also promised that they wouldn’t put him down for three days, giving someone time to adopt him, etc.  But after 1 1/2 hours of pouring rain, no one had come yet!  I called again and begged them to please come soon; the dog was still in the cold drenching rain, and it was getting dark.  I thought for sure they would come with a tranquilizer gun and carry “my dog” off to the vet.

But the call was answered by one lone, little lady with a long stick with a noose on the end.  She chased “my dog” around half-heartedly it seemed.  When I saw her out there I ran out to help.  But the dog had already made it to the edge of the woods and flung itself into the brush and disappeared.

The lady told me that if I saw it again to give them a call.  They had been chasing this very dog for over a week starting at the mall some 6 miles away.  She was disgusted to see that it had been hit by a car.  And she promised that if it was still around tomorrow they wouldn’t chase it anymore, but would bring a large live-trap.  That night I prayed for the poor dog, and put some bread under the trailer in case it came back.

The next morning the bread was gone and the sewer pipe was knocked over again!  I called the lady and told her to bring the trap - he’s still around!  But three days went by and they never brought the trap (because of the rain they said).  The sewer pipe only got knocked over one more time.  The fat neighbor cats were pigging out on the food...

After three days with no signs of Victor ( I couldn’t help but name him.  Even had it all figured out how I could keep him and get him back to Iowa and everything.) I started to think that he must be dead in the woods somewhere.  And every vulture I saw became suspect.  I was heartbroken.

How can I fall in love with a dog in one day?  I thought about that a lot.  I had such intense feelings for that dog.  I cried twice about him.  What in the world?!?!  It was the same kinds of feelings I had for guys I have liked.  I thought that was “love.”  But how could I have “love” for a dog, a dog that I only saw for one day?  I know it sounds strange.  It is strange to me too!  But I finally figured it out.

That dog needed mothering!  That is an instinct for all women.  And I have seen before that I tend to “like” the guys who need mothering.  This emotion that I barely understood and have always taken for “love” must be purely a mothering instinct.  Probably all the women reading this have felt it.  Probably most of you have figured it out already.  I have been told many times over that this feeling was the mothering instinct, but I guess I wouldn’t believe it until now.  Victor showed me that I can even “love” a dog in one day!

At first I hated this emotion.  It has only ever caused me pain, I fumed.  But I am starting to admit that it is something God put there for a reason.  If I ever have screaming brats of my own I will be glad for the intense mothering instinct - it must help a lot to carry a Mom through those days when all other loves fail!  And this mothering love has helped me deal with people that I meet in the communities where I work.  And I’m sure I have been the recipient of it from many of the women in my life.  I am certainly glad that they have this mothering love toward me!

It isn’t the kind of love that would hold a marriage together.  It isn’t the kind of love that would sacrifice itself for another.  (or I would have tackled Victor and not worried about getting bitten!)  It isn’t the kind of love that my parents have for me, or my siblings, or even my friends.  And it makes for a lot of heartbreaks when it is refused or not allowed for some reason or another.  (like death or separation)  But it must be important somewhere along the line.  I guess I just need to distinguish it from the deeper loves.

P.S. I met a lady door-to-door two weeks ago who works for a veterinarian.  She understands my mothering love - she has a houseful of dogs that nobody else wanted. : )  She also knows the lady who runs the animal control... Last week when I saw her again she told me that Victoria was found!  She has already been to the vet and put into a foster home to be tamed!  It sounds as though a lot of the people who met Victoria fell in love with her too.  She doesn’t need a home anymore.  Prayers heard!

On Caddo Lake with Janet

My new friend Janet Nimmo took me on the paddle-wheel steamboat tour of Caddo Lake. It was a first for me and I thought some of you would enjoy seeing the views of a Texas bayou in it’s springtime glory. I’ll try to add a video clip too, so you can hear the sound of the steamboat. It was fun! Thank you Janet!


The first week I was in Texas I ended up in a conversation with a lady in the checkout lane at Walmart. I made a comment about the crusty French bread she had in her cart being just the kind my Dad likes to use for his garlic bread, to go along with his homemade spaghetti sauce. Before we got through line we were friends! And Betty Kindred gave me her phone number and invited me to a quilting club she belonged to... At the quilting club, I met Janet Nimmo. We became friends over the ironing board as we worked on lap quilts for the area nursing homes.

We almost missed the boat that morning because Toni got us lost (as usual!).  But the captain pulled up to the dock again to let us on board. The only other tourists were three ladies who rode on the top deck, unbeknownst to us until the end of the ride.

“The Graceful Ghost” was about 30 feet long and had a boiler the same size as my Grandpa’s which he used to heat his old house. It was heated by wood this time, but could use coal too. The captain expertly steared around the trees and gave us the history of Caddo and the animals and cypress trees along the way.

I’m afraid I wasn’t a very fun guest to have along, because I had so much fun taking pictures and looking around that I hardly said a word. But after our hour-long tour of the recesses of the marshy bayou, we went to the State Park next to Caddo Lake and had a picnic lunch together. We caught up on our talking then.

Janet and her husband used to run a restaurant on the bayou. She’s a survivor of many very difficult trials of life. I really enjoyed hearing about her life and how she overcame so much.

 I also found out that she is the Grandmother (by marriage) of the Rachel who was one of those murdered in the Columbine Highschool shooting. She told me that she never even knew that Rachel had become so close to God until she read her 

journals after her death. (because she lived so far away) Rachel had an impact on her Grandma, and even now is impacting people (like me as I hear the story).

A Knocking at the Door

These words bring to mind both excitement and fear. Even when you know that someone you love is coming, that knock sets up a whirlwind of thoughts and feelings!

My Aunt Arloa was like a grandma to my sister, brother, and I. She never had children of her own, so she spoiled us rotten. Aunt Arloa’s yearly visit was a huge event in our lives, second only to Christmas.

Mom would spend at least a week cleaning and preparing the house. We would plan the meals and have as much as possible cooked up ahead of time, so that every possible minute of the visit could be spent with Aunt Arloa rather than in the kitchen. There was a daily countdown: one more week and Aunt Arloa will be here!... only three more days and Aunt Arloa will be here!... Aunt Arloa is coming tomorrow!!!

On the day of her arrival there was always a flurry of “last minutes” that needed to be done. I recall that we kids were especially helpful that day. Everyone was “in a good mood.” That “special” feeling was in the air, and butterflies were in our stomachs.

The day would drag by sooo slowly! Aunt Arloa had a long drive to get to our house, so we never knew exactly when she would got here; but it was always in the evening. By evening time we were worn out with all the waiting! The excitement was just too much to take, so we would go back to “regular life” and play.

I do remember that my little brother, Matt, would be especially annoying at those times. Like most boys, playing with stuffed animals or “My Little Ponies” was too boring unless you could throw in a few tornados or earthquakes or something else destructive. : ) And being all hyped up about Aunt Arloa made the need for tornados more intense. We always ended up in a fight over how our play should go...

Knock, knock, knock. There was a scramble for the door and a shout - “Aunt Arloa is here!” Of course, we all heard the knock, but we all had to shout it anyway!

And then we would stand there... just looking at the door! To this day I remember the awkwardness of those moments.

I really was excited. But when the knock came I would always get an adrenaline rush that was not purely excitement. I felt scared too! This person was so nice to me last time, but would she be the same this time? She looked different every time she came; what would she look like this time? I have changed a lot since she saw me last; would she still like me? am I still cute enough to be lovable? does she know that I am not the sweet little girl she thinks I am? did Mom tell her how naughty I have been... will she be disappointed? will she still love me?

Once the door got opened, there were hugs and exclamations about how much we’ve all grown. There was luggage and presents to bring in, and I could be busy enough to stay in the background. Still, I felt the tension between excitement and fear.

We would sit down to eat and all through the meal I would listen and watch. By the time supper was over I felt like I knew Aunt Arloa again, and she had assured us many times over how much she had missed us and how special we were to her. Then the rest of the visit was only excitement! The awkwardness had passed.

Does a knock at the door do that to you too? Have you ever felt those butterflies, that excitement mixed with fear? Most people I have talked to can relate to that.

God must have known that our feelings about His return would be excitement mixed with fears. He uses the analogy of “standing at the door” to describe His coming.

He tells us, “From the fig tree learn its lesson: as soon as its branch becomes tender and puts out its leaves, you know that summer is near. So also when you see all these things [wars, famines, earthquakes, false prophets, lawlessness increased, love of many becoming cold, gospel going to all the nations Matthew 24] you know that He is near, at the very door.” Matthew 24:32,33

James 5:8,9 “You also, be patient. Establish your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is at hand. Do not grumble against one another, brothers, so that you may not be judged; behold, the Judge is standing at the door.”

The verse that got me to thinking about all this is Revelation 3:20 “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to Him and eat with him, and he with Me.”

As excited as I am to see Jesus, who is dearer to me than Aunt Arloa ever was, and even though I know of Him and can’t wait to be with Him, the thought of Him knocking at the door sets up a whirlwind of thoughts and feelings in my mind.

God knew this would be the case! He uses this very analogy to let us know that He knows! And He assures us that He really does love us and wants us to be with Him. He even has the meal in mind...

***************************

What would have taken away at least some of my fears about seeing Aunt Arloa?

What can take away at least some of our fears about seeing God when He comes?

A Week in the Life Of...

This has sure been an “exciting” week. My Mom always said “There is never a dull moment around here!” I don’t have three little kids like she did, but the saying was still true for me this week.

Can’t even remember what I did on Sunday, but I know it was work related.

Then Monday was my day off: I slept in until 8:30
- did three loads of laundry and a heap of dirty dishes from the weekend
actually cooked something for lunch, Dominican Republic style beans (yum!)
- wrote for the blog and drove to the hotel parking lot to send it
- tried to catch up on correspondence (wrote about 30 e-mails and 7 of the letters I owe)
- and had 4 hour-long phone calls from people who know that Monday is my day off

Tuesday: had a meeting with the head elder from 10-11:30am
- a Bible study with the blind lady at noon, mailed stuff at the post office
- tried to follow up on some other people and worked on a Bible study I was to give
got a call on the church phone from some unknown lady requesting prayer for all kinds of things (some very strange things too) and after listening for 20 minutes she warned me not to judge her or try to find out how she lives and hung up ???
the man who owns this trailer came to check on the refrigerator. (It died last Saturday. I’ve been keeping my food in the church’s fridge.) He ended up buying a new one, tearing this one out and installing the new one with the muscles of a church member who came over to help. Thankfully I had my tools here for them to use. They left the place looking like a construction zone, but I have a new fridge, that works!
had a study with a new lady, Mary, from 6-8pm... it was a fun study as she had a lot of questions about what will happen when she dies and was SO happy to find answers!
10:15pm, just as I was turning off the light to go to bed, I got a call from Dr Vanessa asking if I could take her to the airport tomorrow. I told her I would, but that I have an appointment at 11am. She said she would try to find someone else. Then as I was drifting off to sleep another call from my Uncle that lasted until 11pm...

Wednesday: at 4am the phone rang...
Vanessa couldn’t find anyone else to take her to the airport - in Dallas (3 1/2 hours away). She had been up most of last night and the whole night before delivering a baby and just couldn’t drive on that much sleep! So I hopped into my clothes (not without feeling sorry for myself I must admit) and packed some breakfast and headed for her house. We were on the road by 5am and made it to Dallas by morning rush hour : / I had never been to Dallas before and missed my exit and ended up going through downtown... They drive crazier there than in San Jose!!! But God kept me sane and safe. Vanessa made her plane and I was back on the road by 8am. Made it back to Marshall at exactly 11am (yes I went 7mph over the speed limit, both ways).
my directions for this 11am appointment were still at my trailer. Aauugghh! I tried to go by what I remembered and ended up lost. Finally arrived at 11:30am after help from the other guest who was also late and therefore still home to answer my call! But I was visiting a German lady for brunch without a gift (German tradition to bring a gift when you visit) and without a shower! or the proper clothes. Oh well! It was a fun visit and I got to meet her friend, Lucy, from Puerto Rico
back to the trailer for a shower and 1 hour nap (interrupted by a phone call too)
off to another Bible study, but that 15 yr old girl was sick, so back home
6:00-7:30pm Prayer Meeting/Bible study, where I was leading out
ate something and went to bed at 9pm. (with my phone turned off this time!)

Thursday: hurried to get out on my route for delivering drop-off Bible studies...
usually takes 2 hours for the route, but it was really windy today, had to drive slower
a visit with a lady named Joy who lost her husband and has her entire family living in her house (chaos!) I had to use the bathroom right now or I would wet my pants, but the 15 yr old granddaughter who has recently had a baby was taking a shower. Joy told her I needed to use the bathroom and told me to go on in. Weird to be using the bathroom with a stranger in the shower right next to me! only in a job like this...
picked up Josh, the 10 yr old who has been going door-to-door with me on Thurs.
had a Bible study with a guy in his 20’s who’s a recovering addict, neat guy
followed up a few more people and took Josh home (he felt miserable with sinus stuff)
went home for lunch? at 5:30pm and did some paperwork
7pm drove the 20 min to a Bible study with a 9 yr old Mexican boy, first had to watch him and his 6 yr old brother on the trampoline (Mexican Jumping Beings!) his Mom talked a LOT afterwards, and I couldn’t leave until 9:15pm aye, aye, aye
while driving home got a frantic call from a church member “Where are you?!” There was a tornado warning out, headed straight for the church...
made it to the trailer in time to grab my weather radio, water and blanket and head next door to the cement block church building to hunker down until it passed at 11pm

Friday: my time with God was extra special this a.m. thinking about Easter
- cooked and cleaned for Sabbath and put my food into the new fridge
more phone calls and prepared for group Bible study
2pm Bible study with a little group of women at some senior apartments, really fun
met up with a lady from church who took me an hour away to Dangerfield State Park, we stayed until sundown and loved every minute of the wooded trails and lake
supper and call to my folks and Uncle Kevin, then bed!

Sabbath: woke up not feeling tired for the first time this week!
enjoyed Bible study and church service, locked up (Elder Hewes gone this weekend)
shared a bit of dessert “for the road” with one of the members whose wife died recently
enjoyed a leisurely and on-time lunch and dessert myself : )
watched a DVD on Revelation chapters 4 and 5 by Stephen Bohr
wrote what I have been learning about prayer for the blog
read a few chapters of a book by Richard O’Ffill
played the harmonica, as the sun set, for my own little vespers
called and talked to my sister and nephews for awhile
got a call from my parents that lasted until 11pm

The Necessity of Prayer

“You do not have, because you do not ask” James 4:2

If God is all-knowing why do we need to pray? Why does He tell us it is necessary to ask for things? If He knows every detail of my life and sees everything that happens, like He says He does, then why does He want to hear me pray to Him about it?

I used to have the feeling that God was kind of short on self-esteem and wanted to hear me pray so both of us would realize that I needed Him.

When we were kids, if one of us was proven wrong about something, the other siblings delighted in “rubbing it in.” Sometimes the subject would not be dropped until the one who was wrong would chant, “You are right. I am wrong. You are bright. I am dumb.”

I carried this kind of thinking about God too. I felt as though my confession of wrongs and prayers for things I wanted were a sort of cruel ritual that I needed to go through to satisfy the all-knowing God who asked me to chant the song “You are right. I am wrong...”

How far from the truth this thinking is!!!

Bartimaeus can tell you what a blessing it is to be able to ask God for something! He was a blind beggar during the time of Jesus. (Mark 10:46-52)

Doubtless, being blind in any time era is difficult, to say the least! But there was no brail or books on CDs back then; blind people had to remain uneducated. There was no job placement for the handicapped that would find something purposeful for a man to do; blind people had to beg for food to simply exist. There were no sunglasses to cover up your disability and give you a chance to appear to be a “regular” person either. In fact, that superstitious generation believed that handicaps were a judgment from God - you or your parents must have done something really bad to deserve blindness!

The name “Bartimaeus” means “son of religious impurity, foul, polluted, unclean.” And you can see by the way the crowd treated him in this account, that people knew the meaning of names back then. When Bartimaeus heard that Jesus was passing by, he shouted “Son of David, have mercy on me!” But those of the crowd who were closest to him told him to shut up!

Jesus heard his pleas for mercy and told the crowd to call him over. Suddenly they changed their tune and told the man to cheer up and get up because Jesus was calling him. Notice, that even though their attitude has temporarily changed (because Jesus was watching them) they were still telling the man what to do!

But when Bartimaeus got to Jesus, he was treated with respect and dignity. Jesus said, “What do you want me to do for you?” Of course Jesus knew what the man needed! But Jesus was not about to take away this man’s privilege of asking, even if he was a blind beggar. Jesus respected Bartimaeus’ free will to choose, to ask, to give God the permission to do what He wanted to do for him already.

Have you ever thought what it would be like if God just automatically did things for you and to you without your asking? What if you woke up one morning and all the clothes in the closet were new because you now weighed 15 pounds less, your favorite car had been replaced by a new Hybrid SUV, the food in your refrigerator was all fresh and unusually healthy, your spouse had a note on the counter that they just got a second job and would see you later tonight, the phone had a cheery message on it from a co-worker you had an argument with yesterday saying they will meet you for lunch... How happy would your Mr. Roger’s life be if you never had the privilege to ask God for anything, if everything was just done for you and to you, automatically?

God is so good to give us the prerogative to ask, to pray, to confess as we choose. It is for our sake that we are told to ask. God doesn’t take away our choices. His respect allows us to speak, even when He knows what we will say.

I know this is long already, but there is one more reason I am thankful that God lets us pray about things even though He already knows. Maybe this will only make sense to the girls...

So many times I have been in such a muddle in my mind that I don’t even know what I want! Feelings and thoughts fly around in such a tangle that I can’t sort it out enough to know what I am thinking. God is all knowing, but I am not! I don’t even know what I am thinking sometimes!

Many times people have been kind enough to listen to me as I “talk out” what I am “thinking.” Their personal interest encourages me to keep talking until I can get it out. Their questions help me sort out conflicting feelings. Their insights connect my thoughts like I cannot seem to do on my own. I am always so grateful to be able to talk to people like this!

But even better than people is God. With people I tend to hold back because I just cannot let it be known that I am “that stupid.” Or I can see that they are getting bored. There is no way that people can sort out some of the stuff going on in my head anyway! But God has all the time, patience, wisdom and love to listen to me, as long as I need, in order to sort things out and have thoughts that I can understand!

Prayer is a necessity. Not because God has the need - He does know everything already! - but because He will not do things without our permission. He waits for us to see our needs and choose to ask Him. He lets us talk things out so WE will know what we are thinking.

What will you give God permission to do for you today?

The Possibility of Prayer

I spent the winter of 2002-2003 in Novy Byg, Ukraine. And I desperately missed being able to talk! Only the family I lived with spoke English, and we were perfect strangers.

Gradually, I learned some Russian, and the family accepted me as their very own “Tonichka.” But I still had days when I ached to talk to my parents who have known me since the day I was born. People who would know my feelings just by the tone of my voice. People who knew my history and the way I think...

Those were the most silent nine months of my life! But they also taught me something about the possibility of prayer. It is possible to talk to Someone who has known me all my life; Someone who knows every detail of my history and how I think; Someone who understands everything I say, think, or feel.

As I knelt on that rough wood floor and laid my head on a backless wooden bench in the “church” (the only room of our little house that the children were not allowed to go into), I would silently talk to God about everything that was happening. And I cried a lot. And I raged and “let Him have it” and questioned and complained and begged for help and admitted my needs and repented of foolishness and told Him about the pretty new bird I saw and all the other things I wanted to talk about -- all jumbled together!

And I know God heard me, because of who I am and because of who He is.

We are pretty well equipped to talk with God (aka pray). We have a mouth and plenty of words to run it on. We have ears to hear and eyes to pay attention with. And we have more than enough emotions to motivate us to express ourselves. Our minds naturally reason and come up with questions that demand true answers. We also have circumstances that require outside help, and events that bring us to positions of great need.

No one can be there ALL the time. No other human experiences life exactly like I do. (Proverbs 14:10) No one understands my thoughts and feelings about everything - not even me! It seems that we were born with the need to communicate with someone on such a deep personal level that no human can completely fulfill. Because of this need, because of who we are, God hears us!

People may call praying to God a “crutch.” You can call it that if you want to, for it only proves the point. We do have a need to talk with an all knowing, all powerful, relational One who listens and responds! And that is exactly how God introduces Himself to us:

“Come now, let us reason together, says the Lord...” Isaiah 1:18

“Call to me and I will answer you, and will tell you great and hidden things that you have not known.” Jeremiah 33:3

“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for wholeness and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon Me and come and pray to Me, and I will hear you. You will seek Me and find Me. When you seek Me with all your heart, I will be found by you declares the Lord...” Jeremiah 29:11-14

“For a man’s ways are before the eyes of the Lord, and He ponders all his paths.” Proverbs 5:21

“He that planted the ear, does He not hear? He who formed the eye, does He not see?... He who teaches man knowledge - the Lord - knows the thoughts of man...” Psalm 94:9,11

“Why should the nations say, ‘Where is their God?’ Our God is in the Heavens; He does all that He pleases.
Their idols are silver and gold, the work of human hands. They have mouths, but do not speak; eyes, but do not see. They have ears but do not hear; noses, but do not smell. They have hands, but do not feel; feet, but do not walk; and they do not make a sound in their throat. Those who make them become like them; so do all who trust in them....
I love the Lord because He has heard my voice and my pleas for mercy. Because He inclined His ear to me, therefore will I call on Him as long as I live.” Psalm 115:2-8; 116:1,2

Because of who He is, God hears us.

Prayer is possible! It is possible for you to talk with One who knows your language, One who cares, One who is always there, One who can understand your feelings and answer your questions... Why not talk with Him?