Coming Home to Father God

Woke up very early, too early to get up and wake the rest of the family. It was a good time for prayers.  So I lay there on my back in the bed and tried to pray and meditate on speaking to God.  My prayers felt impotent, and I drifted off on other subjects of a more worldly nature, like all I wanted to do today. It was frustrating not to be able to stay with God. After all He has brought me through and brought me to, I could not talk to Him without worldly interruptions.

So, I gave up wondering what had happened that I could no longer connect with prayer like I once did.  Sitting on the side of the bed, I put my head in my hands and wondered what had gone wrong.   Then, with head in my hands, I bowed a little lower and asked God, How do I get it back. For a few moments, I didn't pray but sat there on the side of the bed with my head bowed.  

Then it came.  I prayed, and it was real, like before.  Interruptions from the world didn't stand a chance.  I was absorbed in prayer; I hadn't spoken yet.  When I did pray, it all gushed out in praise and gratefulness.  True humility had taken me to God.  He didn't want to hear from me flat on my back, but bowed low before Him.   I felt like a prodigal son coming home to my Father.  Perhaps I was.  


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