How May I Pray for You?

If you’re stuck thinking everyone else has such a great life and your life is super crummy, then ask someone, “How may I pray for you?”

My ex and I prayed together almost every night. We laid in bed, held hands and prayed before going to sleep. Obviously, we weren’t the perfect couple, he’s my ex. So, prayer doesn’t necessarily fix everything the way we’d like it too, but it definitely puts things back into perspective. For instance, it was hard for the ex and I to stay mad at one another, if we’d just had a fight, when we were finishing the night with prayer. Why? Prayer is spoken to God. Things get real when God steps in or when we step toward him.

Ask someone, how may I pray for you, and instantly, things will get real with them. You’ll watch their perfect life fade before your eyes as they begin to tell you how despondent they’ve been lately, or how they’re marriage is suffering, or their boss is a tyrant, or they’re waiting on health results, or well, a billion things. You’ll see their million dollar home turn into a fortress of suffering right before your eyes. You’ll see those picture perfect photos of summer vacations become facades of joy, posted on social media to prove some point.

So, that takes care of one thing. You thinking you have a crummy life while everyone else is living the grand life. Ask someone if you can pray for them, and the walls come down, and the vulnerabilities come out. But really, you knew that, you just needed to hear it.

Now you have. You’ve heard that their life isn’t so great. That their suffering is real behind the facade. Maybe you just never took the time to get to know them. Whatever the case, now you do. They let down their walls and let you in.

What do you do?

You actually pray for them.

I wish I could tell you why. I wish I could tell you why it is a good idea for you to lift that person up in prayer, or to offer your own requests to God, but I don’t have a big theological reason why. I only know that when I do, I somehow feel as though my walls came down a bit, too, and I stop pretending. I stop pretending that I am in control, or that I know what to do in every circumstance. I stop pretending, even to myself, that I am a font of wisdom.

Oh, I may know my way a tad better now than at 20, but I am still baffled by the all of it. This world is crazy. And crazy is so much better with others than alone.

 

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