Mapping Our Memory
Danny's Magnificent Defeat

Leaving Prayers

After a quick lunch today, I drove through an unfamiliar neighborhood, wasting a little time among the tree-shaded streets, to think, heart full.  I found myself in a city park, my car parked facing a field, a place I go to pray sometimes.

I remembered Edith Schaeffer writing about praying while on a crowded city bus, in almost-perfect communion with God amongst the din.  Here I am, in near quiet, distracted by great oaks and birds lighting on branches in front of me, on God’s distractions.  I am trying to pray Collisions 2:6-7 for someone, asking that God would allow this one “to walk in him, rooted and built up in him and established in the faith. . . abounding in thanksgiving,” a verse I learned by memory long ago.  Open-eyed, my mind skitters off track, so I pray the distractions, wrap them up in praise. 

Walking in Him. That’s tough. Growing in Him. That’s a process of fits and starts. Who will water the roots, I wonder? Who will build the life of faith? Who will walk with them to help them find their way?

God knows.

When I drive off, I leave the prayer, full of questions, hanging there on a branch still twittering, perched there with the birds about whom He cares.

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