It is sobering when your own
writing convicts you. That happened the other day, when I was writing out a
scene in my novella-in-progress:
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Taking a deep breath, Marie ventured to ask, "Do you find comfort in prayer?"
Mr. Bowles looked down, his deep brown eyes looking seriously into Marie's. "Yes'm, I reckon I do. Comfort..." he looked away, "Peace...assurance..."
Marie let silence come between them. The thought of prayer scared her. Repelled her. Though in her heart she longed for the peace, she feigned defiance as she looked back at Mr. Bowles. "I find no comfort in prayer."
("Journey to Love," chapter Eight)
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As I wrote it, the question
slapped me: what is prayer to ME? I had to stop writing for a full minute to
ponder my answer. I didn't have as good of an answer as I wanted to, because,
truthfully, my prayer life has been sporadic. By God's grace, He is helping me
in this area of my life, but I am far from where I should be and would
appreciate your prayers in this area of my life.
What is prayer to you? (Don't
answer publicly--just take a moment to do some heart-searching)
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Thank you for stopping by! I pray that you have found something that encourages you today. Thank you for taking the time to give me a little comment - they always brighten my day. :) I usually stop by and reply to as many comments as I can, but sometimes it takes me a week or so. But if you asked a question, be sure to check back!
Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O LORD, my strength, and my redeemer. (Psalm 19:14)