Prayer, pills, and flap books

Dear Hildegaard

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

Dear Hildegaard,

God has been meeting me regularly in prayer. That might sound like vague Christianese, but let me explain. He has been answering my small, but tightly-gripped requests with direct kindness and attention. 

God, I need energy today. Please help. 

And He helps. 

God, she is devastated. She is doubting. I don’t know what to do or say.

And He gives me wisdom.

God, quell my anger. Help me to forgive like you forgive.

And He quiets my spirit.

God, please help baby Richard to sleep.

And He gives us sleep. Or He gives me stamina on the nights when there is no sleep.

I have even asked you to help me pray over your brother:

God, help baby Richard to poop.

Sometimes, he continues to squirm in discomfort, kicking his chubby baby legs. While other times, we receive an immediate “Yes,” and he smiles from the relief. But what I hope to model for you is the truth that we can bring anything before God. Anything. Even the smallest parts of our life and the seemingly mundane issues that concern us. 

God, help me find my car keys. 

It’s not that God is a genie. It’s not that we don’t also pray prayers of thanksgiving and repentance. But if we ever reach a point where we believe God is too holy to care, then we have failed to grasp His tender mercy. We have failed to see Jesus in all his dusty, human glory. 1st Peter 5:7 tells us to cast all your anxieties on Him, because He cares for you.

He cares for you. 

He cares for you. 

And I want this to become a part of your theology of God. Not just that he judges. Not just that He is higher. Not only that He is the boss – and He is. But that He cares. 

One of the biggest challenges in my adult life has been the fight to replace my anxious thoughts with fervent prayers of trust in God. As a child, and as a young woman, I often handled stress in sinful ways. It has been a battle. The antidote has been prayer. 

The other day my Mom – your Nana – told me a story about my own Nana, who just turned one hundred years old. She needed to take a rather large pill, and was afraid she might choke on it. She wanted to obey her doctor’s orders, but was anxious. So my Aunt stopped and prayed over her. She prayed that my grandma, her mother, would be able to swallow the pill without choking. Then my grandma took a step of faith, and swallowed the pill. 

This was a reminder to me that no prayer is too small for our God. He calls Himself Father for a reason. He cares. And this is exactly what practical faith looks like — handing over every care to Him — remembering that every bit of our lives matter to Him, the lover of our souls. 

Already I see that you have a limitless capacity for joy. But you also get struck by melancholy from time to time, and I believe you are what they call a “feeler;” someone whose heart responds deeply to everything it sees and experiences. You will need the God of care in your life and in your theological framework. But I think you might already know this.

Yesterday, we were making your dinosaurs talk, and I jokingly asked one of them, “Do you know Jesus?” You made him respond with an immediate: “No.” But then you followed it up with, “Jesus is always with him.” A few days later, I noticed that you had ripped out the picture of Jesus on the cross from on of your flap books. When I asked you why, you said: “I wanted to take Jesus with me.”

He is with you, even now, as you learn how to dump a measuring cup full of flour into a bowl while we make cookies. He is with you, even now, as you fight your nap and worry about the dinosaurs you love turning mean in your dreams. He is with you, even now, as you rest your head on my chest. I love you. And so does He. Talk to Him.