Midnight Prayers

I didn't sleep great last night. I woke up repeatedly with my mind running, my cold feet snuggling, and every time, I was mid-prayer. That's just what I do when I can't sleep, I pray. I learned as child to take my worries to my Father in heaven and I can remember being very young and praying that I wouldn't dream. If I did, I would wake up asking God to take it away.  As I've grown up, I still hate dreaming but I recognize that if God wakes me, it's usually because there is something on my heart that He needs to hear. Last night it was for a friend of mine from back home who is in the midst of a fierce storm. I don't know her specifics but I know that last night, I kept praying that she and hers were resting and that somehow, someway, they would have peace in their hearts. I have prayed for family, for friends, for myself, for this world. I've prayed midnight prayers for my boys and Ryan and for my own broken heart at times.

I think in our society today, prayer is too often overlooked. We see a post or hear a story and we hit the care emoji or we say we are praying, but are we? I know for myself that I too often whisper a sentence and then move on but that's not who I want to be.  I feel like too often I cop out and let my mind go to the next post or the next task and neglect the need. I want to be a warrior for others. I don't think it means always being on my knees but if it does then I want to hit the ground and seek the Lord. I want to be always talking to my Jesus about the things of my day and the people in my circle.

Now let it be know that I am not a fancy pray-er. Our grace is simply thanking Jesus for the food. My prayer journal has very few page long prayers and lots more ramblings and coffee stains. I do know though that when I talk to Jesus, he hears and he answers. He doesn't require big words or lofty ideas. I give him my gratitude first and foremost and then I ask. Maybe it's just for a blessed meal, or a fast day, or a good grade on a test for my boys, or, maybe it's bigger like the strength to keep my mouth closed or healing for a friend.  I am always completely certain that He is listening and that He cares. I have seen the yeses and the nos. I have mourned the closed doors that He knew needed shut and I have seen Him open the ones that were for me to go through. I have seen peace that passes my understanding and joy even in deep grief. I have cried tears of all sorts and known His comfort and healing more than once. 

My encouragement for me and each of us, is that we keep talking to Jesus. Tell him the things that hit our hearts hard and don't just pass the opportunity over. I want my boys and the next generation of believers to know that there is a Father who is always listening. No words are ever wasted on Him. He hears our simple dinner grace, he longs to hear our genuine thanks, and he can handle our sleepless nights and scary dreams. Caring isn't just an emoji, it's the willingness to get on our knees, even in the middle of the night, and seek the throne room for ourselves and for others.  It's doing it over and over again.  It's praying and believing and trusting always that He really is a God who hears and answers.