GOD HEARS US
God hears every word we ever say. He knows what we are going to say, before the universe became a universe. God hears every prayer. He tells us to ask for it in ‘His name,’ and it is done.
UNLESS….
Unless, it’s going to do us or someone else harm or is not part of His ‘Plan’ for us. Pretty simple rules, actually. Like any Dad who wants to make their family and kids happy, He wants us to have—His heart—His love. He knows it is the only thing which will bring us true joy and happiness and if that thing we talk to Him about fits in to the grand plan, BOOM! It’s why the new bike or the new car or the new stuff doesn’t make the list all the time. Sometimes it does, but not all the time. It’s just stuff. It will never make us happy. In a week, we won’t ride it, spill into its cup holder, and it will just be, well, stuff we then have to take care of.
…we can dramatically undershoot our prayer….
But we can also dramatically undershoot our prayer request. ‘Like He is big and all, but even He can’t deliver this one,’ we think to ourselves. So, we simply ask for a little salt on our fries, please don’t let us trip, and maybe if it’s not too much, could you make the pain—if not go away—because that’s big—make it smaller or just so it doesn’t make me cringe and throw up all the time. Let me be able to defend myself, let my voice be heard, just once. Let me get up and stand, maybe only for a moment because standing and running would be big and we don’t want to over tax You. You have a big universe to oversee and we get that, but if you have a moment….
…we feel guilty….
Like we should feel guilty for asking. We lower our heads and voice a prayer so faint our own brain has trouble hearing it. We turn and slink away, saddened our faith has taken another hit. People said your prayer won’t work. You just need to buck up and soldier on. Ain’t no one coming over the horizon to save you. On top of that scoop of crap, we have sometimes preachers or ministers reminding us WE ARE SINNERS!
You’re so tired, so discouraged, and yet—you try again with a simple start. “Dad, I don’t know what to ask. It’s too big. I’m done and can’t—anymore—I don’t know—what—to ask.”
You are so distracted with your sadness and pain you don’t feel the breeze, so soft and subtle, move by you. We didn’t see the change in light around us as if something moved in front of it. You didn’t feel the inside of your chest and stomach, so tight for so long, start to unwind.
It is here….
It is here, Dad meets his child. God wants us to be here. Because it is here, our conversations with Him are pure, filtered and childlike, so it is just the two of us—a Father and his kid—talking. The answer comes late at night, or at some random time during the day. It comes with a forgotten package in a Fed Ex delivery, or an email. The prayer we ask, the prayer we put together, was smaller than Dad liked. Remember, this is the Garden of Eden and Red Sea Dad. He likes big. He hears our prayer and smiles—if God smiles. Then, I imagine, he turns to the Heavenly Hosts and winks—if Dad winks, with a little shit ass Texas looking cowboy grin, I imagine. He delivers what He wants to deliver. And sometimes, it is beyond our comprehension. Sometimes, it is one we never could of thought of, because we didn’t think we had permission to even ask for. We have done that to ourselves, not Dad.
Look, I don’t know who the hell you are….
Look, I don’t know who the hell you are who are reading this. Maybe no one. But there is this God and he loves you right where you are. In your filth, prison cell, open wound draining puss riddled life all the while as you bet the rent money on the pony in the fifth and as you cheat with what you think is a woman named Yolondrea. He is not embarrassed of you—ever, shy of you—ever, mad at you—never, disgusted with you—ever. You are part of the perfect plan—always. Oh, and by the way, that part about being sinners? Yeah, if you believe in Him and what his son, the lamb of the sacrifice, did two-thousand years ago, and I mean believe by a thin thread, you are clean, instantly clean. White as snow clean. You are not a sinner anymore. You are a Child of God who might sin today or tomorrow, but you are forgiven, completely.
Let me start the conversation for you- “Dad, I don’t know what to ask. It’s too big. I’m done and can’t—anymore—I don’t know—what—to ask.”
All you have to do is be still, and know He is God.
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