Prayer and us

Hours went by as I tidied up parts of my garden that have laid dormant for the last several months.

Having lost track of time, it wasn't until I was hungry that I realized it was almost supper time.

I trimmed some rogue tree limbs that had swooped down over my garden path, replanted a few flowers .. moved my plumeria to a permanent spot beside the sea oat, which seems to be longing for the rainy season.

Digging under the sea oat, I pulled out clods of grass that were strangling the gangly plant.

Throwing some fresh dirt into several of my large pots, I planted a pineapple, several pots of herbs and red peppers, filled the bird feeders and bird baths, pulled a few weeds here and there, toted sticks and piles of pulled weeds to their appropriate places (weeds to the burn pile, which we will do once the rainy season begins, and sticks to the kindling pile for any late night fires in the firepit.)

Today, I went to church and served in the coffee hour, and our Sermon was on prayer and what it means.

So many people, I feel, think it is a formal talk with our Maker, but it does not have to be like that.

It can be that conversation with Jesus while standing in line at the coffee shop.

Or while loading your washing machine.

Or while picking out tomato seeds.

Or while watching football.

(Only in that case, I'm sure it would be more like "Hallelujah, Lord, a touch down!")

Yet there is a time and place for a deeper, introspective prayer.

It's like we try to find God on the run, and we do, but isn't it just like our human relationships, where communication is better when the distractions are kept to a minimum, or the environment is set?

Where do you pray, and how is that working for you?

I was thinking this evening .. in whatever way we are praying, or wherever, it's kind of like gardening.

I can really tell when I have spent time there, and when I have not.