Wordless Prayer

I mentioned in my last post that I am not eloquent in my prayers. I think maybe if I could write them out, they would be better. I would proof read. Use spell check. Use my thesaurus... a lot. But when it's just me and Him, and I open my mouth, I'm bumbly. I go here and there with my thoughts. I am not articulate. I swear I have attention deficit disorder. Sometimes I fall asleep while praying. Sometimes I start talking to Him about keeping my kids safe and suddenly I'm planning what I'm going to pack them for lunch the next day. When I finally remember I was praying, I apologize, and start again. I imagine if He ever rolls His eyes, He rolls His eyes at me a lot.

And most of the time I'm not passionate. I wish I were more passionate. I know people who are--people who open their mouths to pray and you swear you can feel the portals of Heaven open to take in their words. Goosebump prayers I like to call them. I don't think I've ever prayed a goosebump prayer. Even still, I think God is cool with how I talk to Him... like a daughter speaks to her dad, although I don't really know how that feels down here. I think I can imagine though.

There has been only two times in my life that I can remember when I sat down to pray and words would literally not come. The first time is when I knew Grandma would be dying soon, and the last was on Sunday when I thought I might lose Grandpa, too. I closed my eyes to pray, but after several minutes of nothing, I told Him, "Father, you're going to have to just feel this one. Wrap your hands around my heart and breathe it in because I can't come up with the words. You're just going to have to feel it." And I swear, I felt Him do exactly what I asked.

I don't know what the future is going to hold for Grandpa. I can pray (and will pray) that while on this Earth, God will keep him healthy and whole just the way he kept Grandma. I can thank Him every single day that I was fortunate enough to be raised by two of the most genuinely honest, hard-working, precious people who LOVED ME as hard as anyone ever has and who took care of me with everything they had when they didn't have to. I can beg and plead for the desires of my heart, and still, I know, He may have other plans. And I'll be honest, I've already told Him that if He does, I'm going to be mad for a while, and I'm going to kick and scream and cry and pout. Loudly.

But when it all comes down, I know, however things go, He is the God I serve--the one and only God, and I. Trust. Him. My favorite song by Steven Curtis Chapman says, "Where else could I turn? Where else could I go? You have given me life. You have made me whole. You have rescued my soul. So where else could I go when I am found in You?" So even when I'm kicking and screaming when things don't go the way I think they should, His love is just not going to let me go. He's going to hold me the entire time I'm throwing my fit, all the while, whispering in my ear, "Trust me, Sweet Girl. Just trust me."

And I do.