I believe in prayer. I really do! I talk a lot about prayer, I tell others to pray. I even practice it (most of the time). In fact, this probably tells you a lot about my spiritual condition (you have probably heard this before, too!):
So far I’ve done all right.
I haven’t gossipped,
haven’t lost my temper,
haven’t been greedy, grumpy, nasty, selfish, or overindulgent.
I’m really glad about that.
But after I get out of this bed, , Lord,
I’m going to need a lot more help.
Why, oh, why do I not practice what I preach? Can anyone out there relate? It’s as if I’m trying to help God out by taking care of things myself (as if He really needs my help). I worry about what did get done and what didn’t get done.
Thank goodness I went to church yesterday. I always get great food for this weary soul (this compliments of my Sunday School teacher): “Worry is interest paid on debt you may not owe.” I’m signing up for interest-free living!
“And which of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life’s span?” Luke 12:25