Jesus told his disciples a parable to show them that they should always pray and not give up.—LUKE 18:1 (NIV)
I keep a God Box. It’s a round black cardboard box. I think it was the gift packaging for a necklace. I place in my God Box folded bits of paper with written prayers for help with some of my biggest or most intractable problems. It’s a tangible act of turning them over to God.
I’ve lifted the lid of the box from time to time and opened up the little notes.
Here, a prayer for my marriage. It’s undated, as I suppose it should be. We are always in need of God as the divine third in our relationship. I like to think of the Lord sitting on the couch with us, listening as we talk about feeling hurt or angry or ignored. That prayer gets answered every time an argument ends with both of us laughing.
On this piece of paper, a prayer to have a baby. That must have been written in 2003, when we were going through fertility treatments. We were not successful. But I consider this prayer answered because of the deep peace I feel about my life, our lives, as they are. The infertility I sought with such zeal to negate is something I have come to accept with a cheerfulness that, at the time, I had not thought possible.
What I learn again and again from this exercise is that the problems that twist me up so tightly and painfully today will one day unwind. The mere mundane passage of time has a softening effect, yes. But the wiping away of every tear, the bracing wind of forgiveness and the joyful acceptance of my life as God wills it all come from him.
God, when I stop to think about it, you have always answered my prayers. Thank you.
