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Prayer
is not a ritual, but a relationship.
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* *
In
prayer, it's the attitude of our hearts that counts,
not the position of our bodies!
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Prayer
Is So Simple . . .
It
is like quietly opening a door
And slipping into the very presence of God,
There in the stillness
To listen to His voice.
Perhaps to petition
Or only to listen,
It matters not;
Just to be there
In His presence
Is prayer! |
F.W.
Boreham, the writer, tells the story of an old Scotchman who
lay very ill. His minister came to see him. As the minister
sat down on a chair near the bedside he noticed on the other
side of the bed another chair placed at such an angle as to
suggest that another visitor had just left it.
“Well, Donald,” said
the minister, “I see I am not your first visitor.”
The Scotchman looked up in surprise; so the minister pointed
to the chair.
“Ah,” said the sufferer.
“I’ll tell you about that chair. Years ago I found
it impossible to pray. I often fell asleep on my knees; I
was so tired. And if I kept awake, I could not control my
thoughts from wandering. One day I was so worried I spoke
to my minister about it. He told me not to worry about kneeling
down. ‘Just sit down,’ he told me, ‘and put
a chair opposite you, and imagine Jesus is in it, and talk
to Him as you would to a friend.’”
The Scotchman added, “I
have been doing that ever since. And so, now you know why
the chair is standing like that.”
A week later the daughter of
the old Scot drove up to the minister’s house and knocked
at the door. She was shown into the study, and when the minister
came in she could hardly restrain herself. “Father died
in the night,” she sobbed, “I had no idea death
could be so near. I had just gone to lie down for an hour
o two, for he seemed to be sleeping so comfortably. And when
I went back he was dead. He had not moved since I saw him
before, except that his hand was on the empty chair at the
side of the bed. Do you understand?” said the daughter.
“Yes,” said the minister,
“I understand.”
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Speak
to Him then, for He hears,
And spirit with spirit can meet;
Closer is He than breathing,
And nearer than hands or feet.
Alfred
Lord Tennyson
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