Having eight kids afforded me the joy of watching language developement. In two short years baby gurgles become semi-distinguishable communication-a marvel, for sure.
“John- you’ll never believe what Gracie just said! Here- let me put the phone up to her… say it Gracie! Come on…THERE! Did you hear that?!”
Whatever “that” was, it was celebrated with big hoopla by Mom, Dad, and long-suffering friends and relatives.
I think prayer is something like that. Sometimes I muff around in prayer, wanting just the right words or form and give up because it’s not what I think is “good enough”. It helps to think of Jesus, sitting at the right hand of the Father saying,
“Hey- did you hear that? I think she said, ‘Abba!”
And then they slap each other on the back in celebration that I actually said something.
Maybe that’s being too familiar about serious matters, but when pondering prayer, I do remind myself of the joy a parent has when their kids communicates to them…and the feeling of loss when they don’t.
So, blundering or otherwise, I come to Him because…
“My heart has heard you say, “Come and talk with me.” And my heart responds, “LORD,I am coming.” Ps 27:8