A man’s daughter had asked the local minister to come and pray with her father. When the minister arrived, he found the man lying in bed with his head propped up on two pillows. An empty chair sat beside his bed.

The minister assumed that the old fellow had been informed of his visit. “I guess you were expecting me, he said. ‘No, who are you?” said the father.

The minister told him his name and then remarked, “I saw the empty chair and I figured you knew I was going to show up,” “Oh yeah, the chair,” said the bedridden man. Would you mind closing the door?” Puzzled, the minister shut the door.

“I have never told anyone this, not even my daughter,” said the man. “But all of my life I have never known how to pray. At church I used to hear the pastor talk about prayer, but it went right over my head.”

I abandoned any attempt at prayer,” the old man continued, “until one day four years ago, my best friend said to me, “Johnny, prayer is just a simple matter of having a conversation with Jesus. Here is what I suggest.”

“Sit down in a chair; place an empty chair in front of you, and in faith see Jesus on the chair. It’s not spooky because he promised, ‘I will be with you always’. “Then just speak to him in the same way you’re doing with me right now.”

“So, I tried it and I’ve liked it so much that I do it a couple of hours every day. I’m careful though. If my daughter saw me talking to an empty chair, she’d either have a nervous breakdown or send me off to the funny farm.”

The minister was deeply moved by the story and encouraged the old man to continue on the journey. Then he prayed with him, anointed him with oil, and returned to the church.

Two nights later the daughter called to tell the minister that her daddy had died that afternoon.

Did he die in peace?” he asked.

Yes, when I left the house about two o’clock, he called me over to his bedside, told me he loved me and kissed me on the cheek. When I got back from the store an hour later, I found him dead. But there was something strange about his death. Apparently, just before Daddy died, he leaned over and rested his head on the chair beside the bed. What do you make of that?”

The minister wiped a tear from his eye and said, “I wish we could all go like that.”

“Is prayer your steering wheel or your spare tire ? ”
Corrie Ten Boom – Quoted from the Sermon Fodder email list

Some people think God does not like to be troubled with our constant asking. The way to trouble God is not to ask at all.
Dwight L. Moody Quoted from the Sermon Fodder Email list

Much of our prayer life is like that of the little boy who found himself losing his balance in a tree that he had climbed. He cried, “Help me Jesus;” but when his pant leg became caught on a branch, He said, “Never mind Jesus. My jeans caught me.”
Quoted from net153.com email list

Remember, God respecteth not the arithmetic of our prayers, how many they are; nor the rhetoric of our prayers, how long they are; nor the music of our prayers, how methodical they are; but the divinity of our prayers, how heart-sprung they are. Not gifts, but graces, prevail in prayer.
Trapp – Quoted from http://www.net153.com email list

I asked God to take away my habit.
God said, “No. It is not for me to take away, but for you to give it up.”

I asked God to make my handicapped child whole.
God said, “No. His spirit is whole, his body is only temporary.”

I asked God to grant me patience.”
God said, “No. Patience is a by product of tribulations; it isn’t granted, it is learned.”

I asked God to give me happiness.
God said, “No. I give you blessings; Happiness is up to you.”

I asked God to spare me pain.
God said, “No. Suffering draws you apart from worldly cares and brings
you closer to me.”

I asked God to make my spirit grow.
God said, “No. You must grow on your own! , but I will prune you to make you fruitful.”

I asked God for all things that I might enjoy life.
God said, “No. I will give you life, so that you may enjoy all things.”

I ask God to help me LOVE others, as much as He loves me.
God said, “Ahhhh, finally you have the idea.”

Quoted from www.cybersalt.org email list

A tale is told about a small town that had historically been “dry,” but then a local businessman decided to build a tavern. A group of Christians from a local church were concerned and planned an all-night prayer meeting to ask God to intervene. It just so happened that shortly thereafter lightning struck the bar and it burned to the ground. The owner of the bar sued the church, claiming that the prayers of the congregation were responsible, but the church hired a lawyer to argue in court that they were not responsible. The presiding judge, after his initial review of the case, stated that “no matter how this case comes out, one thing is clear. The tavern owner believes in prayer and the Christians do not.”

J.K. Johnston, Why Christians Sin, Discovery House, 1992, p. 129.

The moment you wake up each morning, all your wishes and hopes for the day rush at you like wild animals. And the first job each morning consists in shoving it all back; in listening to that other voice, taking that other point of view, letting that other, larger, stronger, quieter life come flowing in.

C.S. Lewis

Every work of God can be traced to some kneeling form.
J. John – in UK Focus, Aug 97 (HTB)

The prayers a man lives on his feet are just as important as those he says on his knees.

On Sunday afternoon, June 1st 1975, Darrel Dore was on an oil rig in the Gulf of Mexico.
Suddenly it wobbled, tipped to one side, and crashed into the sea. Darrell was trapped inside a room on the rig. As the rig sank deeper and deeper into the sea the lights went out and the room began to fill with water.
Thrashing about in the darkness, Darrel accidentally found a huge air bubble that was forming in the corner of the room. He thrust his head inside it.
Then a horrifying thought sent a shiver down his spine. “I’m buried alive”. Darrell began to pray – out loud – and as he did, something remarkable happened. He said later:
“I found myself actually talking to Someone. Jesus was there with me. There was no illumination, nothing physical, but I sensed him, a comforting presence. He was real, he was there.”
For the next 22 hours that Presence continued to comfort Darrel. But now the oxygen supply inside the bubble was giving out. Death was inevitable. It was just a matter of time.
Then a remarkable thing happened. Darrel saw a tiny star of light shimmering in the pitch-black water. Was it real? or after 22 hours was he beginning to hallucinate? Darrel squinted his eyes. The light seemed to grow brighter. He squinted again.
He wasn’t hallucinating. The light was real. It was coming from a diver’s helmet. Someone had found him. His 22 hour nightmare was over. Rescue had come. He was saved.
That true story is a remarkable illustration

God’s answers are wiser than our prayers.
Unknown

A grandfather was walking past his young granddaughter’s room one night when he saw her kneeling beside her bed, with head bowed and hands folded, repeating the alphabet.
“What are you doing?” he asked her.
She explained, “I’m saying my prayers, but I couldn’t think of just what I wanted to say. So I’m just saying all the letters of the alphabet, and God can put them together however he thinks best.”
Maybe some of the rest of us should have that kind of faith.
As “His Prayer” puts it, “THY will be done.”
From The Sermon Fodder Email List

A group of ministers had met together to study Ephesians 6, and they had just come to the verse “Pray at all times.” A maid brought in coffee for the men, and one of them turned to her. He asked her what she thought this verse meant.

She said, “Why, that’s exactly what I do each day. When I wash, I think of my sins being washed away. When I light the fire, I think of the bright light that I should be for the Lord Jesus. When I wash the dishes, I think of the kind of utensil I should be for the Lord.”

No amount of academic knowledge or theological training could have taught those ministers the beautiful truth they learned from her that day.

From The Sermon Fodder Internet List

Little Boy kneels at the foot of the bed,
Droops on the little hands little gold head.
Hush! Hush! Whisper who dares!
Christopher Robin is saying his prayers.

God bless Mummy. I know that’s right.
Wasn’t it fun in the bath tonight?
The cold’s so cold, and the hot’s so hot.
Oh! God bless Daddy – I quite forgot.

If I open my fingers a little bit more,
I can see Nanny’s dressing-gown on the door.
It’s a beautiful blue, but it hasn’t a hood.
Oh! God bless Nanny and make her good.

Mine has a hood, and I lie in bed,
And pull the hood right over my head,
And I shut my eyes and I curl up small,
And nobody knows that I’m there at all.

Oh! Thank you, God, for a lovely day.
And what was the other I had to say?
I said ‘Bless Daddy,’ so what can it be?
Oh! Now I remember it. God bless me.

Little Boy kneels at the foot of the bed,
Droops on the little hands little gold head.
Hush! Hush! Whisper who dares!
Christopher Robin is saying his prayers.

(‘Vespers’ by A.A. Milne, written around 1923)

“The proper way for man to pray,”
Said Deacon Lemuel Keyes,
“And the only proper attitude,
Is down upon his knees.”

“No, I should say the way to pray,”
Said Reverend Dr. Wise,
“Is standing straight with outstretched arms,
And rapt and upturned eyes.”

“Oh, no, no, no!” said Elder Slow,
“Such posture is too proud;
A man should pray with eyes fast closed,
And head contritely bowed.”

“It seems to me his hands should be
Austerely clasped in front.
With both thumbs pointing toward the ground,”
Said Reverend Dr. Blunt.

“Las’ year I fell in Hodgkin’s well
Head first,” said Cyrus Brown.
“With both my heels a-stickin’ up,
My head a-pointin’ down;

“An’ I made a prayer right then and there;
best prayer I ever said.
The prayin’est prayer I ever prayed,
a standin’ on my head.”

“Cyrus Brown’s Prayer” by Sam Walter Foss

I knelt to pray when day was done
And prayed, “O Lord, bless everyone,
Lift from each saddened heart the pain
And let the sick be well again.”

And then I woke another day
And carelessly went on my way,
The whole day long I did not try
To wipe a tear from any eye.

I did not try to share the load
Of any brother on the road.
I did not even go to see
The sick man just next door to me.

Yet once again when day was done
I prayed, “O Lord, bless everyone.”
But as I prayed, into my ear
there came a voice that whispered clear,

“Pause now, my son, before you pray.
Whom have you tried to bless today?
Gods sweetest blessing always go
by hands that serve him here below.”

And then I hid my face and cried,
“Forgive me, God, I have not tried,
But let me live another day
and I will live the way I pray.”

– Author unknown

Jake, the rancher, went one day to fix a distant fence.
The wind was cold and gusty and the clouds rolled gray and dense.
As he pounded the last staples in and gathered tools to go,
the temperature had fallen and the snow began to blow.

When he finally reached his pickup, he felt a heavy heart.
From the sound of that ignition, he knew it wouldn’t start.
So Jake did what most of us do if we’d have been there.
He humbly bowed his balding head and sent aloft a prayer.

As he turned the key for the last time, he softly cursed his luck.
They found him three days later, frozen stiff in that old truck.
Now Jake had been around in life and done his share of roamin.
But when he saw Heaven, he was shocked – it looked just like Wyomin.

Of all the saints in Heaven, his favorite was St. Peter.
Now, this line, it ain’t needed but it helps with rhyme and meter.
So they set and talked a minute or two, or maybe it was three.
Nobody was keepin’ score – in Heaven time is free.

“I’ve always heard,” Jake said to Pete, “that God will answer prayers. But
one time I asked for help, well, He, just plain wasn’t there. Does God
answer prayers of some, and ignore the prayers of others? That don’t seem
exactly square – I know all men are brothers.

Or does he randomly reply, without good rhyme or reason?
Maybe, it’s the time of day, the weather or the season.
Now I ain’t trying to act smart, it’s just the way I feel.
And I was wonderin’, could you tell me what the heck’s the deal?”

Peter listened very patiently and when Jake was done,
There were smiles of recognition, and he said, “So, you’re the one!
That day your truck, it wouldn’t start, and you sent your prayer a flying.
You gave us all a real bad time, with hundreds of us a trying.

A thousand angels rushed to check the status of your file.’
But you know, Jake, we hadn’t heard from you in quite a while.
And though all prayers are answered, and God ain’t got no quota.
He didn’t recognize your voice, and started a truck in North Dakota.

Rubenstein, the great musician, once said, “If I omit practice one day, I notice it; if two days, my friends notice it’ if three days, the public notice it.” It is the old doctrine, “Practice makes perfect.” We must continue believing, continue praying, continue doing His will. Suppose along any line of art, one should cease practicing, we know what the result will be. If we would only use the same quality of common sense in our religion that we use in our everyday life, we should go on to perfection.