Good morning…
I love peering over life’s fence to a stage where our family’s feet have yet to touch ground. Our kids are now 20, 18, 16, and 14. On Tuesday night, I had the privilege of facilitating a small group of young women in their mid to late twenties. Two dear friends of mine mentor this group weekly and they asked me to speak to their young women on the topic of prayer.
I asked, “How, when, and where do you pray?” In the car, driving. On a morning run, thinking. Cozy in bed before drifting to sleep. During church worship, singing. When alone, talking to God out loud. At the table before each meal. Journaling, spilling angst on a blank page. Being outside, walking, gardening, breathing in fresh air. Praying aloud in a group when asked. Gathering around a person in need, collectively verbalizing hopes for healing. These young women’s answers were as varied as their faces and their hair colors, their tones of voice and their life stories. We discovered together: one form of prayer is not better than another, just like one unique person is not the best in the bunch.
God made us each different, handcrafting us His own. Our Creator knows the best way to draw us close personally. Prayer is cathartic. Prayer helps sort life out. Prayer is turning our worry into trust. Nurturing our one-on-One relationship with God, prayer empties us out before filling us full. The LORD knows the details of our divine purpose, we do not. Prayer is the time we consult with our Designer.
I absolutely loved being with young people a bit older than our kids. What a joy to hear them share their prayer concerns, about their real jobs and performance evaluations, their new engagements and infant marriages, their attempt to balance priorities and their search for deeper meaning. I loved the mutual blessing God gave to each one of us that night, me, my friends, and these gorgeous young women. They sent me home after our evening together with a gift bag of goodies and wise insights to ponder, but just as importantly they gave me hope for the future of my own children, hope that they too will find real jobs and soulmates, faithful friends and their own best forms of prayer.
Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out; you formed me in my mother’s womb. I thank you, High God—you’re breathtaking!…You know me inside and out, you know every bone in my body; You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit, how I was sculpted from nothing into something. Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth; all the stages of my life were spread out before you, the days of my life all prepared before I’d even lived one day, Psalm 139:13-16 (MSG),
Sue
