Walkin' and Prayin'

This morning, for the first time in ages, I took a prayer walk. As she leaves for work, Ginny drops me a mile or so down the road and I walk home praying for the homes I pass in the neighborhood, situations I know about, people who come to mind.

Problem is, this morning I walked more than prayed.

I noticed a dead cat in the road, a kid’s lost shoe, a new pothole, graffiti on a passing boxcar. Why is it easier for me to pay attention to such things than to God?

Well, when you can't see glory, pray about grime.

I try to link the things I see so they remind me to worship and talk with the Father about the concerns of my fellow man.

· That dead cat looked as though someone had deliberately cut its throat; Lord, please temper the cruelty loose in this world.

· That kid’s lost shoe; Lord, remember when our kids buried their shoes so they wouldn’t’ have to go to church and how we made them go barefoot? Well, help that kid’s parents not to feel as desperate and frantic as we did; help them know that You will provide whatever’s needed.

· The pothole; Lord, our city is a mess. The budget is shot to hell. Carpetbaggers and republicans control the government. Services are being cut back. Look upon Jacksonville with mercy and give us better leaders than we deserve.

· Graffiti on a boxcar: Lord, there are gangs of young men hanging out on the corner every night. Nothing to do. No place to go. No future. No hope. What, if anything, am I supposed to do about it? Please send them someone they will listen to.

Do I feel any different after my walk?

No.

But I’m glad I walked – except, now my feet hurt.

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For Men Only (And Women Who Might Care)

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