Prayer

Prayer. This is a word that I am well acquainted with. I grew up in a home where prayer was a vital part of our day. We prayed at mealtimes, for worship, and before we went to bed my parents would come to my bed to pray with me. Often I would tip-toe into my parent's bedroom in the morning only to find my mother in earnest prayer.This background has definitely provided me with a wonderful foundation. What however does prayer mean to me personally? Prayer means direct communication with heaven. Could I ask for a greater privilege? The Creator of this world longs to have communion with me, a sinful and weak human being. Too often I spend way too little time in prayer. It is easy for prayer to become nothing more than a daily routine. Oh how sad the thought! If Jesus is truly my Best Friend as I claim Him to be, won't I desire to spend every spare moment with Him? When I take the time to pour out my heart to Him, and to listen to what He has to say, it is though I am catching a glimpse of heaven. Oh how sweet will it be to forever be with my Lord. Somehow I am having a hard time expressing my thoughts. I am just so humbled that I have this privilege, and so ashamed that I make such poor use of it. If Jesus being the spotless Lamb of God felt such a great need to pray, oh how much more should I.
These last few weeks I have been starting to go on "prayer-walks". This is a time to pour out my heart to Jesus, or to memorize scripture. Nothing could be more revitalizing. 
In closing I want to share a quote I read the other day:

"Cultivate the habit of talking with the Saviour when you are alone, when you are walking, and when you are busy with your daily labor. Let the heart be continually uplifted in silent petition for help, for light, for strength, for knowledge. Let every breath be a prayer."  Pr 179.3


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