Prayer Requests, and My Response (OR, Lack Thereof)

As I worked on a draft for a local newspaper's Op-Ed page, I allowed myself to be distracted by the beeps of email being received--one of my favorite methods of procrastination. The most recent one was titled "Prayer Request for XXXX and her family."

Almost reflexively, I found myself saying a quick, Dear God, please be with XXX and all those in the ER working to get her breathing back to normal. Be with her parents as they watch and worry over this latest health crisis. In your name, Amen.

Then, back to the draft, my prayer request dutifully offered up and put into the "done" folder of my mind.

Stop.

Have you ever been hit with a thought "out of the blue," one that suddenly breaks into your casual moment to moment living and asks you to think, really think, about what you are doing? This was one of those times. I suddenly realized that what I had just done was little more than someone in another culture who has a prayer wheel that is turned repeatedly, with words little more than incantations with little real thought or intentionality behind them. No matter how well-meaning the motivation, is that prayer wheel chant or my mumbled (or not even expressed, just said "to myself") "prayer" really what prayer is all about?

Think of two major prayers in the Gospels. In our culture, most of us are familiar with the words of "The Lord's Prayer," described in both Matthew and Luke as the way Jesus told his disciples they (and we) should pray. Then, in John 17, we see another "Lord's Prayer," the one where Jesus prays for himself, his disciples, and all believers." In neither of these do I see the almost mindless muttering so much of what I call "prayer" really is.

Yes, God hears every word I say, listens to my every request, but too often, I think, I stop at these little inanities instead of going deeper into my conversation with God and caring, really caring, for those for whom I make these little petitions.

So, yes, I know God hears and accepts my prayer for XXXX and her family and those working to bring her back to health. But I am glad for the reminder that my prayers today must go so much deeper than this. How much richness I am missing when I fail to pray, really pray, using the guidance and example Christ has already given.