Pinkie Prayers

I had purposed that I would not post if I did not have "something" to say. So, I haven't blogged in the last 48 hours. I honestly have not felt "inspired" in fact I have felt attacked by the devil. Occasionally, I go through a period where I feel less than useful. Where I feel defeated more by what I have left undone then by what I have done. This last couple of days have felt that way. Like I was just in a fog.

Each Thursday at Noon I gather with a group of Titus women to pray. This group is an eclectic group of women that range in age from 55 to 95. They are like aunts, mothers, and grandmothers to me. They have prayed me through many major life events including my marriage, the birth of my children, Ephraim's surgeries, Carson's school troubles, and the death of my grandparents and mother. This week as we gathered to pray, our eldest member shared some sage advice - She said "the devil doesn't have control over our lives. When he tries to attack you just tell him: "I am God's child, you can't have any part of me, get away from me satan". At the time, I didn't think this advice was for me, I didn't treat it personally. I knew the devil was a real enemy, but I thought I was safe from his fiery darts for now anyway.

How wrong I was. He saw an open door in my pride and he slid right in. I filled my last few days with seemingly good things, volunteering with my sister in law's school program, working on a new prayer program and a few small projects at home. And while they were all good things, I was not doing them for God's glory. I guess truth be told, I was doing them for me. Even as late as tonight, I went to church with my family. This is a good thing, but my heart was not in the right place. I was not approaching with an attitude of worship, but out of obligation.

I stepped out of the van into the parking lot, quarrelling with Troy over trivial matters. I entered the church door like a petulant child wanting my way. I went up stairs and tried to find a place where I could see but not be seen. I sat down on the very last row and tried to sing and worship, but my heart was not in it. I became angry when Carson would not cooperate and go up for Children's Moment. Why wasn't my child obeying? Why was he embarrassing me? Oh my, I stopped in my tracks. I tried to remedy the situation my way and it was not working. Finally, I took Carson by the hand and led him out into the hall. I am sure he thought he was really "in for it". Instead, I put him on my lap and held him tightly. I stopped and bowed my head and prayed for him and for me.

We returned to our place in the pew and I felt a calm come over me. I had let the devil weasel his way into my heart, in pride I thought I was above his working. Turns out I am the kind of person he really revels in. I gave him an open door and he waltzed right in and turned my heart an ugly black. Now, with a renewed faith and a more worshipful attitude, Carson and I return in time to join in the Lord's Prayer. I reach down and link pinkies with Carson. Why pinkies? This was the tradition my grandmother Catherine Coers started. She would link pinkies with us as we worshiped together during the Lord's Prayer. I always felt so connected to her during that time. I want my sons to feel connected to me, but more so I want them to feel connected with Jesus as we pray His prayer.

The pinkie prayer gives me perspective, I must claim my position as God's child. I have to tell satan, "you have no place in my heart, I am a child of the King". I have to consciously reject the things that are not of God and to purpose not to do things for my glory but God's. Reach out and grab His hand, connect with Him.