Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Whispers About Prayer

"He who kneels most stands best." ~ D. L. Moody

I am quite sure I have used this quote before, but the truth is it needs to be repeated again and again, remembered every single day of our lives. I am not just saying this because it sounds good. I am saying it because I know it to be true. I had a heart aching revelation a few days ago, I was more the center of my life than God was. As I began to sift through all my emotions I began to see that it all had not happened over night. It never does. Has it ever happened to you? God is your everything, your every other thought is a whispered prayer of praise. You get busy, you get distracted, you get tired. Before you know it you are now the center of your own life. God is somewhere on the outskirts whispering to get your attention, to reclaim your loving devotion. You sing your own praises, troubles, and "wisdom" so loud that you block out His still small voice. You do not even realize it. One day you wake up and all that you truly loved about your existence lies in crumbled ruins at your feet. When you are here, what do you do?

Through the wispy cool of a spring morning, with the sunbeams hazily swirling their magic touch around her willowy figure, wrapped in a soft white dress, her head bowed low in shame the young woman wound her way slowly down a winding path through the garden. Roses blossomed sending their sweet fragrance to mingle the the air around her golden-brown curls, their dewy faces lifted with wide smiles. Yet, the young maiden saw them not. Her face showed signs of reluctance in her journey, yet a wistfulness too.

"He will be so terribly disappointed in me. How could I have been so foolish. Why was I so blind! How can I face Him?" the rush of sorrowful thoughts tumbled through her brain. "Oh, but I do want to be able to look into His face again. Feel Him so near. Hear Him call me His child in His tones so tender and loving."

She does not even notice how her feet move faster, her pace doubles. Thoughts full of longing for her Father continue and her longing to stand before Him grows stronger with each second. Suddenly she rounds the bend and there He is, seated upon His throne. She throws herself at His feet.

"Father, I was such a fool! Can You ever forgive me?" Tears stream down her once rosy cheeks, now pale from her lack of time spent in the Son.

I glance away, my eyes misty, as the Father of all creation takes His wayward child into His arms and holds her close. Because that child has been me more times than I wish to remember.

How easily we forget. How easily we stray. How I thank my Lord for His mercy and grace. For His patience with His foolish daughter.

Pray always. Every minute, every hour, every day, always. If you want to stand well and on firm ground through all of life then don't stop. D. L. Moody's words are so true! Prayer is the cement that holds our solid foundation together. We must treasure it. Always.

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