Wednesday, July 11, 2018
Prayer crayon scribbles
If you’re a Mom, there are some at your house no matter how old or young your children are. Crayon scribblings. On walls, or paper, or furniture, and most of all in your memories. They are meaningless, worthless to anyone else but you know which child drew them, and when, and even the details of that time together. Why do we keep theses scribbles? Tonight I was thinking about my prayers - self-centered, broken, childish, scribbled-with-no-skill prayers. And I was overwhelmed to realize they are more precious to God than my children’s drawings. Not because I ask (draw) rightly or perfectly. Not because I am a master pray-er (artist), know the right words (colors), stay in the lines, or even make sense with my pleas and cries. But because HE loves me. HE, the God of all, is more in love with this child than I am with my crayon coloring bundles of joy. No words can describe, no art can convey, no planet contain His love. And that love turns my scribbled mess of a prayer into something beloved.
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