Five Lines


Purple ink. Scratchy writing. Five lines. 

Aug 14, 2012: Mom and I took Cat to Waco for her 1st year at Baylor. Crazy! 
Lord, please be with her and her roommate. Guide them. 
Talked with mom on way home about what love should look like for
 all Christians and then about the bakery. Only You can pull her through.
Thank you for your protection, love, and provision.

Aug 14, 2013: Ran 60 minutes today. It felt good. But, I locked my 
keys out-Mrs. W happened to be walking by so we met and she 
gave me a ride home. Met with S before church and visited, H too.
Deciding to be intentional with some friendships, even though I don't
want to right now.

Aug 14, 2014: Got a cleaning job. Trusting that they're safe people
to work for. Spent the rest of the day baking, finalizing details.
Slowly things are working out. Idea of prayer has been on my mind. 
Why don't I desire that all the time? I want to be seeking after Your 
heart.

Just after publishing a post, my dad got ahold of me. My mom was in the hospital, he would explain details in the morning but wanted me to know. 

Everything I had just been thinking regarding prayer disappeared from my mind. A conversation with God happened. I don't really remember much about it except that I sat on my bed- reading nothing, saying nothing. And you know what? That was okay.

My heart was breaking. School is starting. And I can't be with her. 

Indian style on my bed with the quilt she gave me, I sat in silence with a slow stream of tears.

...

Another trial to be joyful for. 

Really? Hasn't she faced enough? I shouldn't be here.

Have I not woven the details together for you in My timing?

I know that You are, but it hasn't seemed like it these last few crazy months.

But your rooming situation? Processing time on the immunization forms? Facetime dates with your friends just when you've needed them?

...

This doesn't really answer how we should pray. But it showed me how it starts...at least at this time in my life. I can't speak for every time. 

The days aren't promised us, but each day we have we have stories that fill the lines. Our stories are not our own. They weave into the greater picture. So prayer, as we transition to desiring it more fully and constantly and for the story outside of ourselves, is dynamic and ever changing. Maybe prayer starts when we're honest.









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