It hasn't been that long since I made the connection between God as Father and my earthly father, my Daddy. Since that revelation, I always open my prayers with "Father" because the thought is so comforting to me. That Sunday, the sermon was on the passage about which of you would give a snake to your child if he/she asked for a fish. (Luke 11:11-13) I thought of my earthly father, of how he has always selflessly given to me in a hundred different ways.
When I was little, he went to Hardee's on his lunch break and bought a stuffed Donald Duck that he then chased me around the house with as he spoke in Donald speak to elicit giggles. When I asked for a basketball goal or a bicycle for Christmas, he gave me both. After proving that I was going to stick with playing the trumpet, he bought me the best silver trumpet he could find. When I needed a soft case to carry it around, he bought leather instead of vinyl. When my car had problems in high school, he loaned me his brand new shiny red pick up while he drove my clunker Monte Carlo. When I asked for a five to go to the movies, he always gave me a twenty. When he told me to pick out a car my sophomore year of college, I picked out a Volkswagon; he picked out a Mustang.
I know I don't know all of the ways in which my heavenly Father has done the same thing. I can think of little things like the day I was struggling to write my ten pages. I prayed for the strength to write those ten pages; God gave me fifteen. I have sheepishly prayed for a parking spot in a certain garage because I was running late; God gave me three. I have prayed for a car to last an extra year and managed to get a second out of it. I prayed to find a good man for a husband; God gave me the best man for a husband--someone beyond my wildest expectations.
I do know that it's hard to see how God works in our lives sometimes. I started keeping a prayer journal a few Lenten seasons ago. Reading it a year or two after the fact has shown me a glimpse of how God gives generously even when we can't see it at the time. My challenge to everyone would be to keep a little informal journal of the things that worry you; check it a few months or a year later to see how God has given you even more than you asked for.
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Sally this is beautiful.
ReplyDeleteThere is a part of me that is hesitant to pray for parking spaces and even for ten pages (or lately, ten minutes of a Sunday School lesson). And yet...I love to just talk to God. I ramble on, internally, and share everything. Which means that when I'm worried about being late I end up asking God for the green lights. When I'm worried about knowing what to say when meeting a new person, on the inside I'm asking for words.
I have quite a few prayers that weren't answered the way I wanted, but still there is this sense of God's generosity and love through all and in all. Especially during the times when the answer was "no".
My favorite answer of all is to a question I haven't asked God. There is a particular phrase in the Psalms that I turned to repeatedly during a difficult time period, expressing my desire to grow in faith. Since then, I have heard the phrase in odd and unexpected times. It's almost like a game, when I forget to think of God or even trust in God, it's like God whispers and I hear the phrase from an odd, unexpected source. It's like God is laughing, saying "Don't forget me, I'm here with you!" I didn't ask, but there God is!
It's the sense of God laughing with me, hanging in there with me, that I cherish, and is so much more than I ever asked for.
Thanks for sharing this. God is good!
Thanks, Cyndi! I don't really make a habit of praying for parking spaces or pages, but I remember reading a passage about praying for all things--even the little things. I usually feel so silly, but then find rewards nonetheless.
ReplyDeleteActually, I have to thank Marilyn Crozier for suggesting that I talk with God while driving alone. Let's face it; most of us can us some divine intervention to get through Atlanta traffic unscathed. More importantly, it's a dialogue often filled with humor. It's hard to have a conversation with God because we consider him to be untouchable in heaven, but I learned that skill from a roommate of mine and Marilyn gave me the perfect spot and time to reconnect.