One of the joys of being a grandparent is teaching the grandkids to pray. And praying with them. And learning to pray from them.
Yes, you read that right. My grandchildren teach me to pray.
Our youngest grandchild just turned two. And, like her older siblings and cousins, she will often volunteer to pray at meals and bedtime. Even though she is still learning to speak, she prays well.
To be fair, the length of her mealtime prayers depend more or less on her hunger and delight in the food that has been set before her. That is, the greater her gratitude, the shorter her prayer. In a way, however, maybe the prayer’s brevity is a lesson in gratitude.
Read More: Changing the World One Prayer at a Time
Her prayers are sometimes inaudible or unintelligible to our ears, due to low volume or indistinct enunciation. They seem to make sense to her, though, and we are pretty sure they make sense to God.
And her “amens” are often jubilant and enthusiastic. No mere afterthought, they resound with more conviction than any Bach or Handel finale.
By some standards, her prayers—and those of our other grandchildren—are far from perfect. They are unpredictable in form, often taking on a “stream of consciousness” quality that would probably delight fans of William Faulkner or Virginia Woolf, sounding something like this: “God, we went to the zoo today and I saw a giraffe they have long necks but not like turtles because they don’t have a shell and I hope we go again soon and did I leave my cotton candy in the car?” Not exactly The Book of Common Prayer.
At other times, their prayers sound suspiciously like attempts to postpone sleep: “And I hope Alex’s poison ivy gets better and the lady in the grocery store doesn’t have to limp anymore and that the grass grows back in the front yard” and on and on it goes. They have even been known to break into song while praying.
Yet they make me want to pray. They remind me that prayer doesn’t have to be just-so, any more than other human conversation. In fact, sometimes the simpler the prayer, the better, particularly when it reflects what is truly on our minds and in our hearts at the moment, instead of what we think God wants to hear.
He might even be refreshed by such prayers, as I am often blessed by hearing what comes out of my grandkids’ mouths! Maybe that is one of the things Jesus had in mind when he said, “Whoever does not welcome the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it” (Mark 10:15, HCSB).
In that respect, imperfect prayers can be perfect.
