I don’t know to pray. Allow me to put it another way, I pray for all the wrong reasons. Let me go even further, when I pray the hardest it is because I want something. The point in my life when I prayed the most began during the summer of 1997. For all the wrong reasons the summer of 1997 was a major turning point in my life because in the summer of 1997 my mother was diagnosed with leukemia. I don’t remember the exact day but it was a Friday in late July or early August. I was taking the bus from Boston to Portland to visit my family for the weekend. It was the summer between my junior and senior year in college. I was working in Boston. It was the first summer that I had not spent at home - knowing what I know now I wish I had gone home. When I got off the bus in Portland my father did not come out of the car to meet. I knew that something was wrong. I remember getting into the front seat of my father’s car, him giving me a hug and telling me that my mother had been diagnosed with leukemia. “Diagnosed with leukemia” are easily the three worst words I’ve ever heard. From that moment until July 3, 1998, the day my mother died, I prayed multiple times a day. Whenever I had a few minutes I found myself praying. I prayed to God and asked him repeatedly to let my mother live, to save her life.
What is obvious to me now is that I was praying for myself. I should have been asking God to accept my mother into his kingdom. I should have been confessing my sins to god so that one day I would be able to join her. But I didn’t do that. I prayed to God asking him to save my mother’s life. Foolishly I offered God little bribes if he would save her life. I promised to be a better Christian. I promised to be a better person. I promised things that couldn’t possibly ever deliver on. I never once offered myself completely to God, I don’t think it ever even crossed my mind.
After my mother died I didn’t pray for a long time. I’m not sure if I was angry at God or angry at myself. I was certainly angry. I felt like I had been cheated. Of course reflecting back on it I think I was angry with myself. I could have been a better son in countless ways that are not worth go through here. I don’t think I was angry at God for not answering my prayers, I was angry at myself. But here’s the thing. I think that God may have in fact answered my prayer. I think he did save my mother’s life but not in the way I was asking him. I believe that mother is with God in his kingdom right now and I pray that I will be able to see her again someday.
So after all of this you would think that I’ve learned my lesson about praying. I haven’t. I am sinner and I cannot fix myself. I continue to make the same mistakes repeatedly. When I pray I continue to pray for myself and the things that I want. The prayers may be disguised so that is appears that I am praying for others but there is no fooling God, he sees right through that. So I will continue to make an effort to pray for others before myself but I know I will continue to fail at this.
Pray for me and I will do my best to pray for you.
BDP
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