I was feeling
pretty good. Feeling pretty good about
finishing the workday and then spending the entire flight home reading about
prayer.
It seemed right…really right. Like I had spent my time well.
Like I had learned
something important. Like starting at
deplaning, I could be a better person, a better mom, a better wife, a better
friend.
And then the spam
hits the ever-loving fan and I figure out pretty quick, you cannot read about
prayer. You cannot study it or discuss
it or describe it enough to do enough.
You must DO it. You must be in
such close touch with the Father that when the cage rattles, you know what to
hold on to.
No words, no
platitudes, no relationship can hold us above water EXCEPT the single outstretched hand of the Father.
He doesn’t allow our world to get rocked so
He can watch us sink. He rocks it so He
can ask us to walk on water.
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