A Prayer Story

We have been reading and talking about prayer these past few days. I have a story that makes me smile every time I think about it. Mind you, I’m not sure if the theology behind this is really true. I could probably pull some Bible verses around it and make it sound just as good as any preacher that I have heard lately but I will spare you the Bible gymnastics. It is just a story. My story.

During one of days that I knew we were going to have a meeting in our CLB (church left behind) I was in deep anguish. I wanted to do everything so perfectly. I wanted there to be no room for deception in our own lives. I wanted no one to be able to point any fingers that we were not completely like Jesus in our handling of telling our pastors that we really, really disagreed with them. (Now, I realize that, 1) I can’t be perfect enough and 2) people will believe whatever they want to believe)

Anyway, one morning about 4 months ago, I could not sleep. I got up crying. As I came downstairs I saw the couch and I dropped to my knees sobbing. I cried for a few minutes and then started praying/sobbing, “Please Jesus, please come and be here with me. Please come and be here. I need you. Please don’t leave me alone to do this, please come and be with me.”

This went on for many minutes. At one point I actually took a breath. I was not in the listening mode but all of a sudden, in my thoughts, I felt like I heard Jesus say in a bit of a rebuking kind of voice, “I am here!” Now I don’t know what God sounds like when he speaks to you but this the tone of his voice was as if he was trying to get through to me so I would stop begging Him to show up. He also sounded like he had said it a few times already and I had just not heard him yet.

Of course I immediately thought of all the verses that I know that he would not leave me and of his omnipresence that I had been taught all my life and sheepishly said, “Thanks Jesus, thanks for being here.”

I then took another deep breath and began to frantically tell him all about what I was worried about, what had happened, all my fears and panic for what the day would bring. Again, at one point when I paused to catch my breath I thought I heard him speak peacefully again. He said, “I know all of that, I was just sitting here with my Father talking to him about all of this. He knows all about it and he loves you.”

Again verses flooded through my mind about Jesus sitting on the right hand of the Father and interceding for us. (I’m a good Bible student when I am pushed to be)

But the thought and picture of this brought such sweet peace to me that morning. I realized that he really was talking to the Father about this. That they really cared and that they had not left us alone in all of it.

But then a crazy thought crossed my mind and came flying out of my mouth. “Jesus, if you are there, talking to the Father about all of this…. I mean, if He is right there being all God and stuff…. and knowing everything like he does….and you guys are talking about it right?..... could you please tell me how it is going to turn out. What is going to happen?”

Again, in my mind I heard him say back to me. “No, He hasn’t told me what is going to happen yet but that is ok.”

I decided at that moment that I probably better not push this one. If he wanted me to know ahead of time, he would tell me. (and if he had told me I would have probably really screwed up and asked for the lottery numbers too for the day)

But it does make me smile…and cherish that morning on my knees…and think about all the theological implications….and again brings peace to me knowing that they talk about these kinds of things…right?

And maybe just listening and breathing right now is really ok.