The Plaque

After my mother died, I divided her belongings among family members. There was one thing, however, that I especially wanted for myself—a simple brown plaque with gold writing. She displayed it in the various homes we lived in over the years. It’s message? Prayer Changes Things.
And where did I place it? An unusual place: above the mirror in the bathroom, directly across from the toilet seat. This reminded me several times a day that prayer does indeed change things.
About the time I hung the plaque, one of our daughters was in love with a man many years older than she. When she came home, they spent hours each evening on cross-country phone calls. A marriage seemed inevitable. As parents, we hoped and prayed for a husband closer to her age.
Despite my anxiety, the plaque reminded me: Prayer Changes Things. As I read those words, I’d say, “Lord, I don’t see how You can change this, but I know You can do anything. If this match isn’t Your best for her, change her desires.
A few months later, our daughter broke off the relationship. God does indeed change things that we humans cannot.
God has not yet brought His choice mate into our daughter’s life, but I believe He will. And He helped her avoid a wrong choice.
Now, I have a different kind of problem that to me seems insurmountable. However, I believe it too will be resolved, for I know Prayer Changes Things.

Getting God To Listen

The Psalmist said, “If I had cherished sin in my heart, the Lord would not have listened. Psalm 66:18

Sometimes it’s just plain hard to pray with a clean heart—like the times my husband and I come to our evening prayer time after we have had a dispute. We have very big needs in our family. There are misunderstandings, financial crises, health emergencies, moral issues to be dealt with and decisions that have to be made. They are the kind of issues that need resolution desperately, if we’re to be effective in God’s kingdom. But we know we can’t pray effectively about them, if we aren’t right with each other. So we try to live in harmony, but it isn’t easy.

Pete and I have a special place on the sofa where we sit at night when we pray. Sometimes we sit farther apart than at others. One night recently we were farther apart. We had argued about something. I honestly can’t remember what.

I sighed. I knew we needed to get things right between us, or God would not release His power for the answers we sought. But . . . what to do. It really wasn’t my fault, or so I thought. It seemed to me Pete ought to be the one to apologize. I waited. He didn’t say anything. So I reluctantly started praying, a sincere prayer to be sure, but powerless. Something wasn’t right, and I knew what it was. No use to pray, if God wasn’t listening. I stopped.

“I’m sorry for coming across so strongly about ____________________. Will you forgive me?” I asked.

He agreed. We talked a little more, clarifying the issue. The wall between us disappeared. The cloud cover shutting out God’s presence evaporated into sunshine. We each prayed with confidence, knowing God heard our prayers.

Lord, help me clean my spiritual house often so the filth doesn’t block our relationship.