Time is my prayer
"I can't even pray," he said softly. His spirit was so
low even God would have to stoop to raise him up.
But God would do that for him.
Some days I wake up and I find myself taking inventory of
all my pains, problems and failed attempts at living a
perfect life.
I moan and gripe about everything until I feel there's
nothing left to complain about.
Then I regret it because I see some simple little thing like
a flower, sunshine breaking through the darkness, music on
my alarm clock radio, or two dogs jumping for joy because I
got up and they want to play.
If none of that shakes me back into reality, all I need to
do to put my life in perspective is pick up the newspaper.
Suddenly I have a wonderful life, indeed.
Then again all I really need to change my attitude is to
talk to Joe.
His life is a real mess. Frankly, I've said all I can to try
to inspire him. As one tragedy piled on another I offered
him the best thinking I had. I even did some research and
gathered some of the best minds together in an effort to
lift his spirits.
It's really unbelievable.
Now, he says to me that he can't even pray. It's not that he
doesn't believe any more. He is just beaten to the ground
and can't find the strength to put a prayer together.
"God, help me," I said to him.
"What?" he asked.
"Joe, you really don't need a fancy prayer to get help from
God. He knows everything that's wrong and He is everything
that's right," I said.
"Bob, I know you've had some tough times in your life. What
did you do?" he asked.
My life was never as challenging as his, but for me, at that
moment in time, the world was darker than it had ever been
before. That was enough to bring me down.
I thought carefully about what I would say to him. I asked
God for the right words.
"Time is my prayer, " I said.
He looked at me wanting an explanation but too tired to ask
for it.
"When I could not find the words, when I could not ask for
help, God still heard me," I told him.
"It was all in how I spent my time. Even though I found no
reason to live, I still pulled myself through everyday. I
could remember begging God to take my life. If I woke up the
next morning I knew he had plans for me. He gave me more
time. So how I spent that time was my prayer to him. I could
not ask Him for anything and I could not even say "thanks"
because I couldn't see any value in my life. That is except
for time. I was seeing myself as useless and He was giving
me more time. What I chose to do with that time was my
prayer of thanks to Him."
Joe smiled, lifted his head and waved goodbye as he turned
to walk away.
Two days later I found a small box on my porch. It had my
name on it.
I opened it and found an old wind up clock in it with a note
attached.
It read, "I woke up this morning and took some time to thank
God for you. Now, "Time is MY prayer!" Joe
Bob Perks Bob@BobPerks.com