The other day I was running late, in New Haven, IN . . . Land of Trains.  As I crossed town I breathed a quick prayer that I wouldn’t get stopped by one.  Because I’ve been thinking and reading about prayer, I immediately stopped and thought about that communication.  No “hello”.  No “It’s good to be here with you.”  Just right to “what can you do for me.  I’ve gotten myself into another undisciplined jam – would you get me out please?” – at least I said please. 

God is not a vending machine.

And I started thinking about my girls.  When I say “yes” to a request or give them something they want, they frequently say to me, “You’re the best mom ever!”  And while I like it when they give this conditional accolade, it doesn’t compare to the times they snuggle up to me on the couch for no reason at all and say, “I love you, Mommy, you’re the best.”

And I’ve been thinking about the way I interact with my Daddy.  Earlier this year, He provided for a financial need in a miraculous way and I literally fell on the floor and thanked Him and worshiped Him.  But . . . wasn’t that a little like my girls . . . wasn’t I saying, “Thank you Daddy, you’re the best Dad ever!”?

I guess in a way it’s ok if I pray like a child, because I am the girl and He’s the Dad.  But what I really want is to have conversations with my Daddy.  I want to tell Him how it is with me.  And I want to hear what He has to say to me.  I don’t want interactions, I want conversations.  I want Him to know how much I love being with Him and how grateful I am to be His daughter, not just because of the blessings He’s given me, but because of Him that He’s given me.

While I was writing this, girl #2 handed me a card she made for me – a heart on the front – the message inside, “I love you because you are the best.”

I’m not, but He is.