I Am a Praying Woman

I am a praying woman.

Perhaps because I was a praying girl.

Possibly because I was surrounded by prayer warriors.

I love prayer.

I love the power of prayer.

I have been praying for as long as I can remember.  Talking to God.  Talking with God.

Talking, whispering, crying, singing…..with God.

My first memory of “organized” prayer was with my Great Granny Sadie Belle….

“Jesus tender shepherd hear me,

  Bless the little children tonight

  In the darkness be thou near me

  Keep me safe until the early morning light”

I can still feel her wrinkled and spindly hands folding my plump young ones together in prayer…I don’t remember her face so much, but I do remember her voice whispering this prayer with me.  I might have been four or five.  I had a little night light shaped like a book which I always thought was a Bible. 

As I grew older, I remember the powerful, booming voice of others who prayed for, with and around me…

My Daddy…he prayed with strong affirmation that he believed God would answer him.  He prayed in a very committed and disciplined way as if his family depended on it…and, they did and do

My Mama…she prayed and prayed and prayed.  I have seen her smile in prayer, weep in prayer and be still in prayer.  She is the greatest prayer warrior I know.

My siblings…they have prayed in turn taking, in moments of not wanting to and at the front of the communion table.  They have prayed for marriages, babies and one another.
My children....they have prayed when they could barely say words...precious baby worded prayers, sweet young adult prayers which have melted my heart.
My husband...intimate, knowing prayers from one who sees the worst and best in me and loves me all the same; who reminds me that God loves to hear me pray....who prays with me in return.

Friends of mine have knelt with me at the front of our church (Thanks Tracy C), and at My School (thanks Patty R and many others).

We have had our church elders over and asked them to pray with us and for us and our children.

We have had our physicians pray over our babies prior to child birth and after child birth (Thanks, Dr. Hager)

I can remember praying with my friends when we were little…amazing, now that I think about it…our praying together at age 6 and 7.  It was just something we did.  Debbie, Janet and I played “church” and prayed.

I can remember praying with boyfriends prior to eating dinner on our dates.  I was telling my daughter the other day that the majority of the boys I dated were even of my same church affiliation.  I don’t remember thinking of doing that on purpose, but I did like a guy who prayed.  Even in college, several of the young men I dated were from my church background and all of them seemed to be pray-ers.  Those who were not, for some reason, learned to.

I can remember praying with my sister-friends during devotionals, ladies’ retreats, play-group times together.

I cannot imagine a life without prayer.

But, I have lived a season of life when I knew not for what to pray.

While I am a praying person, it does not always come easy to me.

I think that is because when praying you really need to speak from your heart.  I don’t know about your heart, but my own is not always lovely and beautiful as it should be.

Sometimes, when I pray….the ugliness in me comes out from my center and straight toward God.  My pettiness, ugliness, sinfulness comes flowing right along with my tears and frustrations.

I love the movie, “Eat, Pray, Love” with Julia Roberts.  The part where she gets on her knees and says,
“Hello God, it’s me….I need your help. …..please just tell me what to do and I will do it”…..tears flowing down her face.  She is new to prayer….but prays just the same…..in belief that He will answer.

I have prayed with confidence.  I have prayed in fear.

I have prayed for things such as wisdom and patience and then ducked knowing that the answers were likely to be painful.

I have prayed for children in years of infertility.

I have prayed for a second chance in times of mistakes.

I have prayed for clarity in seasons of absolutely cloud-covered thinking.

I have prayed with “brave hope” that my baby would live.

I have prayed with hope that my marriage would survive.

I have prayed to be submissive, compliant, obedient.

I have prayed to be strong.

I have prayed for 8 hours straight as a part of marriage counseling.

I have prayed for words to explain my life’s decision.

I have prayed for my babies.

I have prayed on my knees, on my feet and on my face. I have prayed in the shower (easy to hide the tears) and as I jogged.  I have prayed in the car, on the plane and in the elevator.

Prayer time at the foot of my baby’s crib was a common occurrence….little fingers wound around mine.

P R A Y without ceasing makes sense to me.

I don’t pray because I am such a great, Godly woman.

I pray because I could not survive otherwise.

I so relate to Paul in Romans when he says, “ I do not understand what I do.  For what I want to do, I do not do, but what I hate, I do.  And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good.  As it is, it is no longer myself who do it, but it is sin living in me.  For I know that good itself does not dwell in me….for I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out.  For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do – this I keep on doing.”

I pray because I fear what I would be like if I did not.

I pray because I know life without prayer would not be live-able.

I pray because I believe God will answer my mother’s prayers for my children.

I pray because even when I am tired, scared, hurt, and broken, I believe God hears me.

And, in His hearing…..my prayerful heart understands that prayer is all about making God real in our lives.  It is our way of having a conversation with our “Father” who really is the only one who can help us, hold us, love us.

And, in the folding of my hands, I am given hope….that that which I cannot do alone, I can do with God….

And, my direct link…my text message…my Facebook message is going to be heard by Him

Through my prayers.

Blessings,

Lesa