"One day Jesus was praying in a certain place.
When he finished, one of his disciples said to him,
'Lord, teach us to pray,...' "
Luke 11:1 NIV
When he finished, one of his disciples said to him,
'Lord, teach us to pray,...' "
Luke 11:1 NIV
A few weeks ago my family celebrated my husband’s 75th birthday and what a great evening had we! Our daughter, son-in-law and three young-adult grandsons came our way, and we all went out to a wonderful dinner of oysters, wings, shrimp and all the trimmings—some of my husband’s favorite eats at one of his favorite places. Then afterward we came back to our home, enjoyed birthday cake and ice cream, watched as he opened his gifts, and wound up the evening with a time of blessing and prayer for the birthday man. My heart was full, and after everyone had gone home, I fell into bed fully content, for there’s nothing quite like celebrating a milestone of life with family. But that wasn’t all that happened that night. For unknown to everyone else, a private celebration took place deep within my heart.
Since the restaurant was in the neighborhood of where two of our grandsons were born, after dinner our son-in-law suggested we swing by and show the boys their birthplaces. So we did! The boys loved seeing where their lives began and where they lived before their memories clicked in. For me, it was a reminder of that delightful time when our grandchildren arrived one-by-one and how much I loved those babies. But back then, little did I realize the imprint each one would make upon my own life.
That night, as we stood in front of the condo where our now 24-year-old grandson Tadd was born, my thoughts suddenly returned to one particular morning when he was a newborn. During those days, it seemed like he was always being rushed to the ER for one reason or another, and at such times I was on call to stay with his two toddler-age brothers. On one such morning, the phone rang before dawn, and I was out the door in less than 10 minutes. As I drove in the pre-dawn darkness, I prayed for Tadd, but also my thoughts returned to the night before when I had asked God to keep him well, not only for his benefit, but also for mine. For you see, I was still working at the time and since I was getting behind, I needed a day to catch up. So, as I wound my way toward his home, it occurred to me that since God had not granted my request, He must have something important for me to learn.
When I arrived and walked in the door, I quickly brushed a kiss across Tadd’s burning forehead as his parents rushed him out the door. Then, after checking on his two sleeping brothers, I noticed my daughter had made a bed for me on the living room sofa. But just as I was ready to climb in, I remembered my thoughts in the car about God having something to teach me. So at that moment, I determined not to lie down until I knew what it was. I then went into the kitchen, put on a pot of coffee, and returned to the living room where I noticed a book on the coffee table that I hadn’t seen before. I picked it up and began to read, and by the end of the first few pages, I was captivated. The author told her story of how God had changed her life when she learned to pray the Scriptures and for the next two hours I read, finishing up just as I heard the first stirrings of my grandsons.
As I closed the book and walked into the bedroom to greet those two little boys, I knew exactly what it was that God wanted to teach me. Praying, you see, had always been difficult. Oh, I could pray, but my prayers were always the same, using coined words and phrases I’d heard since childhood. I had longed for more depth in my prayer life, and that morning God showed me how to get it, doing so by way of an interrupted schedule, the illness of my grandson and the words of an author. The message was simple: Use the words of the Bible to pray. It's a lesson I've never forgotten, for ever since as I read the Bible each day, I find myself using the very words of God as I pray for those I love.
That recent night, as I stood outside that condo surrounded by my family, including three of my now grown grandsons, it truly was a night of celebration. Three celebrations in one: My husband's birthday, my grandsons' births and my very own private celebration of the morning God taught me how to pray.
There's no better way to do so, you see, than to use God's very words!
Blessings and love,
Judy Rose Grubaugh
Since the restaurant was in the neighborhood of where two of our grandsons were born, after dinner our son-in-law suggested we swing by and show the boys their birthplaces. So we did! The boys loved seeing where their lives began and where they lived before their memories clicked in. For me, it was a reminder of that delightful time when our grandchildren arrived one-by-one and how much I loved those babies. But back then, little did I realize the imprint each one would make upon my own life.
That night, as we stood in front of the condo where our now 24-year-old grandson Tadd was born, my thoughts suddenly returned to one particular morning when he was a newborn. During those days, it seemed like he was always being rushed to the ER for one reason or another, and at such times I was on call to stay with his two toddler-age brothers. On one such morning, the phone rang before dawn, and I was out the door in less than 10 minutes. As I drove in the pre-dawn darkness, I prayed for Tadd, but also my thoughts returned to the night before when I had asked God to keep him well, not only for his benefit, but also for mine. For you see, I was still working at the time and since I was getting behind, I needed a day to catch up. So, as I wound my way toward his home, it occurred to me that since God had not granted my request, He must have something important for me to learn.
When I arrived and walked in the door, I quickly brushed a kiss across Tadd’s burning forehead as his parents rushed him out the door. Then, after checking on his two sleeping brothers, I noticed my daughter had made a bed for me on the living room sofa. But just as I was ready to climb in, I remembered my thoughts in the car about God having something to teach me. So at that moment, I determined not to lie down until I knew what it was. I then went into the kitchen, put on a pot of coffee, and returned to the living room where I noticed a book on the coffee table that I hadn’t seen before. I picked it up and began to read, and by the end of the first few pages, I was captivated. The author told her story of how God had changed her life when she learned to pray the Scriptures and for the next two hours I read, finishing up just as I heard the first stirrings of my grandsons.
As I closed the book and walked into the bedroom to greet those two little boys, I knew exactly what it was that God wanted to teach me. Praying, you see, had always been difficult. Oh, I could pray, but my prayers were always the same, using coined words and phrases I’d heard since childhood. I had longed for more depth in my prayer life, and that morning God showed me how to get it, doing so by way of an interrupted schedule, the illness of my grandson and the words of an author. The message was simple: Use the words of the Bible to pray. It's a lesson I've never forgotten, for ever since as I read the Bible each day, I find myself using the very words of God as I pray for those I love.
That recent night, as I stood outside that condo surrounded by my family, including three of my now grown grandsons, it truly was a night of celebration. Three celebrations in one: My husband's birthday, my grandsons' births and my very own private celebration of the morning God taught me how to pray.
There's no better way to do so, you see, than to use God's very words!
Blessings and love,
Judy Rose Grubaugh