Sometimes when I walk into church, I can almost hear the echoes of all the prayers that have been uttered there for decades past. There are the cries for help: “Please, Lord, let me get that promotion”; “I beg you, God, please heal my wife”; and “Sweet Jesus, give me the strength to get through another day.”
And there are prayers of thanksgiving: “Thank you, God, for saving my son from drugs.” “Thank you for my new job!”
No wonder places of worship are seen as holy realms. There is something inherently sacred about thousands of conversations with God making invisible imprints there over the years.
In a recent interview published in America magazine, Pope Francis talked a bit about his prayer life, mentioning that he reads daily from the breviary, says the rosary, celebrates Mass and prays quietly before the Blessed Sacrament.
He added that he also utters mental prayers throughout the day and gave as his example something that really hit home with me — which is praying at the dentist.
I don’t think he’s alone. Frankly, I doubt there are many atheists in the dentist’s chair.
Even the most skeptical person, the one who isn’t sure God exists, the one who hasn’t set foot in church for years, sees the dentist coming toward him with that large needle filled with Novocain and surely for just a second thinks, “Dear Lord, I hope this won’t hurt too much.”
There are so many other everyday places of prayer. In every doctor’s waiting room, there are people sitting quietly holding magazines, but instead of reading articles, they are silently praying for healing.
And there are other patients coming out from exams who are zooming through the waiting room with one prayer in their heart: “Thank you, God, for the good news.”
Of course, others come out downtrodden. They’ve heard the dreaded word “cancer” or “heart disease” or “diabetes,” and they’re begging God to help them get through whatever comes next.
Perhaps the really big souls are already uttering the words of acceptance, that simple prayer, “Thy will be done.”
Who can say how many people at work are praying for the co-worker in the next cubicle? Praying for the custodians and repairmen as they go about their daily tasks of cleaning and fixing and tidying up?
Praying for the big bosses who make life-changing decisions when it comes to layoffs, pay raises and promotions?
As for me, I do plenty of praying while driving. Sometimes it’s just a simple, “Oh, Lord, please let me get there safely,” while at other times, the prayers are for strangers struck down suddenly in a collision.
I also pray at home each day for the well-being of the kids on our block as they ride bikes, skate and swing from the big magnolia tree across the way.
At church, I often ask God that the prayers of those around me will be granted. Not too long ago, I was thrilled to meet a sweet answer to my petitions. He is a beaming baby named Joseph whose parents had begged God to send him into their life.
God is everywhere, and that means not just in church. He is on the highway, in the kitchen, in the emergency room, on the block.
And he is always there to hear the voices of his children praising his name, uttering a heartfelt word of thanks — or hoping the dentist won’t hit a nerve.
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