My prayers of yesteryear were a lot more eloquent and verbose than they are now. Years ago, my prayers might have sounded something like this:
"Jesus, You know this election is coming up soon. May you slay those liberal, self-seeking Democrats [tongue firmly in cheek] and uphold the Holy Agenda of the Chosen, Righteous Republican Party and may they ever lead our country back to You. This is our only hope."
or perhaps this:
"Righteous and omnipotent Heavenly Father, make my home function with Holy Spirit Power and the blessed Shekinah glory of the Almighty Lord. Give us what we
My prayers are simpler now, borne out of tiredness and busyness and (hopefully) a bit more humility-- the kind of humility that can only come from being a wife and mom and realizing that I fail 3483984 times every.single.day and that I have no business instructing the Maker of the universe on what He should or shouldn't do for me. Out of the knowledge that I have no knowledge, and I am most often winging it from moment to moment.
Most often, it is just this:
"Father-- in all this mess we have created, Your will be done."
"Oh, Jesus. Help me. Help me to love these children when I'd so much rather scream at them. Help me to love my husband when I'd so much rather be throw a boot at him." (This is, for the record, an indication of my own failures and my sinful heart, not a reflection on my husband-- whom I typically adore, and just occasionally want to throw a boot at.)
How smug I must sound to God, when I pray to Him about what He must do. Or even what He should do. How self-important I must sound when I tell Him what is best for our country, or even what is best for my family. I see dimly, in part. He sees the whole.
May my prayers be sincere, humble, and come from a heart that desires the glory of God, not merely ease of circumstances.