It’s past 1 o’clock in the afternoon on this, the National Day of Prayer here in the U.S. The house is finally quiet, for the first time since the middle child woke us all up at I can’t even remember what time.
I sit down with my Bible and a hot cup of tea and a blank computer screen. Waiting to hear Your voice.
And the phone keeps ringing in between Psalm 63 and 64.
I don’t know when I last sat down by myself with my Bible.
There are three different CD’s of three different styles of music playing within our little home, lulling three children to sleep. But I want to shut it out and just listen to You.
It’s the National Day of Prayer and it feels like I should be praying some grand prayer for our country, for the upcoming election.
But instead the tears come as I contemplate all the miscellaneous affairs of our own little household—small in comparison with those of the nation but big in the perspective of three little children and their mommy who hasn’t slept a night through in I don’t know when.
I know. People tell me I’m “in the thick of it” right now, with three children four and under. And I know I am.
But I’ll always be in the thick of something, Lord. I want to be able to be in the thick of it in a little more of that perfect peace, the mind that is always stayed on You.
It seems to be a lot more about meditating on You in the watches of the night than shutting myself up in a prayer closet these days.
Praying in the shower happens a whole lot more than praying in the middle of the kitchen with an apron thrown over my head.
But if I want to raise more John Wesleys for this next generation, I need to learn to pray in the midst of the loud and crazy crush of it all and not just the quiet moments I snatch once every week or so.
I need to chime in with praise along with the three children at my feet who are “singing” at the top of their lungs. I need to let them hear me praying for strength when I don’t know how I’m going to make it until dinner time—let alone what I’m going to make for dinner!
Lord, I know that I need every day to be a day of prayer in our house. Please let my heart be soft to Your voice next time the stress mounts and my attitude shows anything but a heavenly perspective in the midst of it all.
The baby’s awake again, Lord. But You can see through the stack of papers on my desk down to the to-do list.
Help me to do it all—the rocking the babe and the paying the bills and the editing the words—with an attitude of prayer and thanksgiving.