God and Me-Prayer

As I shared a bit yesterday, I have been struggling with Conleigh's adoption. We have been stuck in one place for over 10 months and I am fearful it will soon turn into over a year. I've also been missing my mother-in-law as of late. I think that's because Kenson has just turned into such a fun little guy and there are many times where I think she would get such a kick out of him. It's just sad to know she's missing those joys.



Anyway, those hurts in my heart have left me wrestling a bit with God. Some times when people hear those words they think of a knock down drag out fight, one where someone rages against the Almighty, shaking an angry fist toward the heavens while curses fly. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with that because I believe our honest emotions are very honoring to God. But that's not where I am.



I've been wrestling alright but more in a way that's reminiscent of the all night event that featured the Old Testament Jacob and God. In that passage, it talks about how Jacob had no choice but to wrestle the angel of God because God would not let go of Jacob. That's kind of how I feel. Not like I'm doubting or in danger of losing faith. Not like I'm pushing God away or whacking God in the knees in some desperate attempt to be rid of Him. No, it's more like God has seen my hurt and questions and has latched on to me in some holy way, tripping me up, pinning me down, and making me seek the truth about Him.



So that's where I am. A truth seeking mode. I need to get to the root of what prayer is all about and what God feels about unanswered prayer. So for the last few weeks I've been doing a concordance based study, looking up references to prayer. I've been exploring the chapter that each reference has been buried in. I've been doing a lot of unattractive, kind of homely looking praying and writing in my journal. I usually pray very systematic prayers that follow the Lord's Prayer or a fairly set pattern or praise and requests but lately my heart and mind haven't been able to pray like that. What's surfaced has been raggedy and roughly hewn, demanding and full of discontent. I haven't liked my prayers or words. In fact, if someone tore out a page and just read it, I'm not even sure if he could tell they were prayers. But to me, that's what they are. The proof of my wrestling. The proof of my relationship with my God. The proof that my God will take any kind of communication that connects me to Him.