In the Quiet...

I love the house when it's all quiet at night...which is actually quite odd for me, when I am a hands down lover of background noise (the TV or radio is almost always on during the day, even if no one is watching/listening). But there's something about nighttime, when everyone else is in bed, sound asleep, and I'm the only one up in this darkened, quiet house. Sometimes I sew, sometimes I cook (bake), sometimes I read, sometimes I crochet, often I pray. It's a very good time to talk to God, with no distractions. Actually, I was thinking the other day of my "prayer closet" (theoretically, of course...I don't have an ACTUAL closet) because we were discussing ours at a WMU meeting a while back. (That's Women's Missions, by the way, if you were wondering.) The ladies (and the article we were discussing) talked about their "prayer closets" or for those of you unfamiliar with the term, their special place to pray, to talk to God. And honestly, I talk to him a good bit when I'm up sewing at night. Or in my bed as I lie there long after my husband has gone sound asleep. What do I talk about? Anything. Everything. Nothing. Depends on the night. I ask for forgiveness. I ask for help. I ask him to help me be a better mother, to not let little things bother me. I ask to not get so irritated sometimes at silly things. I never ask for patience, because patience is learned by trials, and who wants more of those? I talk to God about things. About what I what, what I think, what I have to do. I pray for my children, for my husband, and for our family's safety. I try to always ask his will, though, when I ask for things, for I know He knows far better what I need than I do. I do know that, and I do trust Him. No one loves me or knows me better. I also know that. And I always tell him I love Him. Because I do. I try to listen, too, to what He wants me to do, but I'm not always as good with the listening part...something I need to work on.

But thinking on this, I must say, I guess I don't really have a special PLACE to pray, though certainly my bed and my sewing room get more formal prayer than most other places. I talk to God off and on throughout my day. I pray for little things. "Please, God, let my child win the game!" (Isn't it wonderful when they beat us at a game without our having to cheat to make it happen? :) ) I pray for practical things. "Please God let it rain." I pray when I'm afraid. "Please God let me kill this spider on the first throw!" And I thank Him. I thank Him for such wonderful children I love. I thank Him for this loving, comforting family and our safe, happy home, when so many in far away countries do not even have a roof over their head, whose countries stay in unrest... I thank Him for little things, like my pumpkin plants not dying, yet. (And yes, I thanked Him for us being able to kill the HUGE spider before it could hide under my dryer and make it impossible for me to wash clothes in there again...) And I thank Him for big things, "Thank you, God, for healing my precious boy and taking away his fever!" or "Thank you, God, for giving me MS, instead of something so very much worse!" I've prayed that a lot. And I mean every word of it. From the beginning, I just kept thinking, relieved, of all the things it wasn't, of all the things God had saved me from. Though don't for one moment think this is any reflection of me. That peace was from God alone. I'm not that good, not that calm, or together. He was there, guiding me, helping me, from day one. And, of course, I've had some ups and downs, though He was with me, helping me through each and every one. And I couldn't have managed without Him, my God, my Savior, my Heavenly Father, my Friend. I honestly don't know how anyone does, even without chronic diseases.

All this to say...I like the quiet, the calm, the peaceful, and we should all take time and remember these words.

"Be still and know that I am God."

Because He is. God. Creator of everything. And even though He is the all powerful, all knowing, MIGHTY God He is, still, He loves me and hears my tiny voice. For I am His.

Praise God for that!