You really ARE in my thoughts and prayers!

This is for anyone who has ever said to someone, “You’re in my thoughts and prayers.” We were talking about this at Bible Study the other night and this was brought up. I admitted that my prayer life is just about non-existent outside of church, and am ashamed of the fact that I say that phrase a lot, but then don’t ever do anything about it until Sunday and it’s time to remember all those for whom we are praying. By then, I’ve forgotten. My usual response is, “Lord, your memory is a lot better than mine, so anyone I said I’d pray for, let this be their prayer.” What was surprising was finding out I’m not alone in this. One of the men in the group suggested that the very act of telling someone that he/she is in your prayers is a prayer in itself, and (hopefully) gives comfort to the person receiving the blessing.

Which got me to thinking that I’ve been treating prayer like a laundry bag: fill it up during the week and cast it to the Lord on Sunday. Maybe that’s enough. It shouldn’t be. It’s like the old hymn says:

O what peace we often forfeit, O what needless pain we bear,
All because we do not carry everything to God in prayer.

This lady named Deb Koplen passed away this morning, another victim of the evil bug known as cancer. About the only good things in this whole situation is that she had led a pretty long life and her battle was short (she was only diagnosed a couple months ago). I only met her once, and it was memorable: she was communion assistant (pouring the wine) at Casey Chrystie’s service back in October. As she poured my wine, I stopped to sip, and she said, “Come on, move it along, you’re holding up the line.” Ornery people like that are the spice of life. I was smiling for the rest of the service.

I didn’t pray for her nearly as much as I should have, if I did at all. Not that my prayers would have stopped the cancer from taking her; I don’t imagine Deb getting to heaven and God telling her, “Y’know, you’d still be alive if that Rearick character had prayed like he said he would.” (Guarantee that if Deb heard that, she’d have excused herself for a brief moment and come back here and given me a serious spiritual butt-whuppin’!) I told her friend Gaylene that Deb was in my prayers, but again, what prayers? My weekly castings of the group of forgotten folks to whom I’d made an empty promise? And is it an empty promise if the person to whom I say “You’re in my prayers” never finds out that I forgot to pray specifically for them? Maybe not to them, but I have to think it makes a difference to God. What’s that parable? The one about the man who, when given a task, says to his master “I’m not doing that,” but then does it anyway; then the other man who, when given a task, says to his master “I’ll do it,” but then doesn’t. Jesus doesn’t give reasons why this man never completes his task, only that the man does not complete the task. So, though it may not be an empty promise to the person, it’s an empty promise to God. God stands at the ready, only waiting for me to say “Go!” but not moving an inch until I do. That’s the thing about God: for the most part, He seems to stay out of our way unless we ask Him to guide our way.

And once again, I’ve painted myself into a corner, one from which only Jesus can lead me. Once again, thank God for that. O Lord, forgive me when I promise people to pray for them and then forget because I waited too long or didn’t pray enough. Lord, grant me the discipline to not only pray, but also to pray genuinely, from the heart. Once again, this is for anyone who has ever said “You’re in my thoughts and prayers” and then never followed through on that offer. Finally, if there is anyone to whom I’ve said that and then hoped that God would remember when I finally got around to it on Sunday morning, I am truly sorry.

In Him and around the corner (and praying for joy),
Al