This was also the same kid who took my hands tenderly in his own and told me that he had a four-wheeler at his house–and then explained, “I’m faster than my four-wheeler.”
Somehow as we age, we get all formal in our prayers and act pious and sometimes was are downright pious–we’ve spent more than 10 minutes reading our Bible this morning, we even prayed for other people and so we come to God with the extremely flowery details of our perfectly formulated request–cut the pretense, God knows us anyway. He doesn’t need the details.
My point is, I think it’s ok to be brutally honest with God in our prayers with phrases like, “I’m selfish and this is why I’m asking you for this…” or, “God, this is soooo completely messed up and unfair. I’m not sure if I’m going to be a Christian tomorrow because of how this person has treated me.”
The other day, I picked up Jesus Calling in the bookstore (I know, I’m the last person on earth who does not own this book), and it, of course, is Jesus talking, saying that we are wasting our time, dwelling in our sorrows and our desires when what he wants is for us is to praise him. And this is what the psalmist does, he begs the Lord not to be silent, he points to the craftiness of his enemies (Psalm 83) and then moving on to the next chapter (84:1), he is praising God, saying, “How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord Almighty! My soul yearns, even faints for the courts of the Lord; my heart and my flesh cry out for the living God…and then there is this conclusion, this beautiful conclusion to it all:
Somehow, when we desire his presence more than anything else, everything else–the toy sword, the speed–all comes into perspective.