Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:6-7
My grandmother is the only person I have ever known who never showed any fear. She was human, so she must have felt it at some point in her life. Maybe she was afraid when, as a young wife and mother, she became a refugee, fleeing the Japanese as they invaded China. Or maybe she felt it in the late 1960s, when she immigrated to America, a land where the culture was foreign and the language incomprehensible. But I never saw a moment of it.
“You have to pray.” I can still hear the words in her warbly voice—a command, a piece of advice, and a grandmotherly reminder all wrapped up in one. My grandma, who died seventeen years ago, must have said those same words to me ten thousand times: when I was stressed about school, when I was angry at my father, when I was frustrated with some stupid or trivial thing as well as some more important ones. “You have to pray.”
She wasn’t a starry-eyed fantasist who thought that by turning to God, she’d get whatever she wanted. Certainly, her life showed that plenty of prayer hadn’t smoothed out the bumps: She lived through poverty and war and the death of one of her six children and much, much more.
No, it was because she understood that with prayer, she drew closer to God, and with God, she had nothing to fear. The presence of prayer meant the conquest of fear—because she had on her side the peace that passes all human understanding. And that, she taught me, was all you ever needed.
Lord, in good times and in bad times, in joy and in sorrow, remind me that I have to pray.
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