A (Figurative) Kneeler in Every Home (A Call to Act Rather than Complain)

As a kid, I spent a lot of time at my grandmother’s house. I credit her with teaching me so many things (some of the biggest parts of my personality I can directly attribute to her), but the most important thing she taught me was how to pray. Through her, I learned that I was created on purpose and for a purpose. She took me to church and reminded me that God loved me unconditionally. She showed me that nothing was beyond forgiveness. In my opinion, she was the greatest example of a Christian woman I have ever known.

In her home, she had a kneeler. I don’t think I’ve ever been in a home with its own kneeler (before or since). It was a beautiful piece, made of wood with a lovely stain and it had a velvety cushion for your knees. (There’s a chance that my Papa made it, but I’m not 100% sure.) If you’ve never seen a kneeler I asked AI to generate what I can remember and the above rendition is pretty close. I was absolutely enamored with it! It was like having a church in your own house! The kneeler was designed to fit an adult, so as a small child, I couldn’t kneel and rest my hands on the top to pray. I knew you weren’t supposed to stand on the cushion, so what was a kid to do?

My grandma told me that you didn’t need a kneeler to pray. You could pray anywhere and at any time. While I knew that someday I would be able to reach the top of the kneeler, that little piece of assurance stuck with me. As a kid, I was plagued with nightmares. Praying helped. I’ve been a news junkie since I was in grade school and knowing about a big scary world caused me to worry and fear. Praying helped. Moving away from home and my support network was hard. Praying helped. Notice that I said that praying helped. It didn’t magically solve everything, but what it did do was deepen my faith and relationship with God. A God who pursues each of us, who hears and understands our worries and concerns, and reminds us that we are not alone even on the most friightening days.

It’s disheartening to know that so many disregard the power of prayer. It’s become a mode of attack in our modern culture to mock those who extend thoughts and prayers in times of crisis or as a way of offering comfort. Understand that praying people know that they are not lifting up their worries to a genie in the sky who will magically fix the ills of the world. Those of us who pray know that God is so much larger than that interpretation. The power of prayer is in the communication with our Creator. This is not lip service. Fervent prayer is action. It is often through prayer that we are called to act AND do more as we respond to the needs of others.

In the uncertainty of this new year, I have seen so many seek to complain and rile up their circles and communities. Many are calling out others, dividing families and friend groups, asking each other to take sides, and demonizing those who have differing thoughts and opinions. Several are canceling those who they once considered close and blocking people who they once called family or friends. This does so much more harm than good and it’s not taking place among those who don’t believe, this is happening within our own churches and communities of faith.

This is now a time for real in-depth conversations, in-person relationships, and profound listening. These things don’t take place in news stories, political chatrooms, or on social media. They take place around the table, in homes, and with open minds and hearts.

Please do not contribute to the hate, division, and fear that currently surrounds us. Pray and ask for discernment. Ask God to use you. Think before you speak (or post) so that you can be a source of hope and peace. Prayer is action. In this distressed world, many only contribute to the anxiety by spreading information that has not been fully researched or confirmed. News and information move at lightning speed and it is easy to get caught up in this vicious whirlwind.

At this point, I am again reminded of my grandma and her assurance that we can pray anywhere and at any time. I am more certain than ever that we need a (figurative) kneeler in every home to pray and hear God’s call and we need real-life, in-person conversations to listen and respond with compassion in order to truly make a difference, even if it’s only in our own tiny corner of the world.

This is not lip service. Fervent prayer is action.

In my distress I called upon the Lord; to my God I cried for help. From his temple he heard my voice, and my cry to him reached his ears. Psalm 18:6

Why I STILL Make My Kids’ Beds

If you want to change the world, start off by making your bed.  –Admiral William H. McRaven

I am the mother of two kiddos…a tween girl and a teen boy and I STILL make their beds. Not every day (as if that makes the whole thing better,) but practically every day.  This revelation is something that I rarely talk about and a topic that makes me a little uncomfortable sharing.  At first glance, it probably sounds like I’m some sort of Martha Stewart control freak or worse yet–a mother who coddles her kids too much.  I can hear it now, “She STILL makes their beds?  Really?  Wow.  How old are they?”  On more than one occasion I’ve been accused of not letting them grow up, trying to make them permanent dependents, permitting/encouraging laziness and impeding their emotional development.  Ouch!  An unmade bed is a pet peeve for a lot of people.  I get it.  Honestly, I know it’s a little (or a lot) quirky, but I really don’t plan on stopping anytime soon…and I have my reasons.

I’m a creature of habit.  When the children were little, I would use the time that I spent in their bedrooms as an opportunity to pray for them.  Nothing fancy or formal…just a few quick words.  Praises for the good days and prayers for strength on the tough ones.  And while we have prayed with the kiddos at bedtime ever since they were teeny tiny, I quickly discovered how much I think about my children when they’re away from home.  When my son went off to school I missed him terribly.  It was just preschool and just a few hours a day, but I wondered how he was doing?  What he was doing?  If he was okay? And on and on.  Instead of spinning in this cycle of worry, I decided to get pro-active and purposefully pray for his day while I made his bed.  And I never stopped.  When my daughter came along, I added her to the daily ritual.  In the five minutes it takes to make a bed I would pray for his/her well-being, his/her character, his/her faith development, those in their classrooms, their teachers, their circle of friends, etc.  I prayed offensively and defensively.  Some days I give thanks and other times I find myself on my knees (things sure get complicated as they grow up!)  But most importantly, I pray regularly.

After so many years, this daily practice hasn’t changed much.  Some days I sing hymns as I go about straightening up their rooms.  I mostly pray silently, but occasionally I pray out loud.  The family dog even gets in on the action.  She frequently comes into the room and guards the door…she knows the routine and has become something of a prayer partner.  This past week I have been in earnest prayer for one of my kiddos and decided to write about my prayer pattern.  What’s been reinforced to me lately is that praying includes a lot of listening, too.  And I am grateful for that.  What started out as a personal antidote to worry and stress has proven itself time and time again as a recipe for peace and assurance…and I thought it was worth sharing with my fellow parents in the trenches.

Someday my kids will make their own beds (and in case you’re wondering, YES, they know how.)  But for the time being, I’m happy to straighten sheets, tidy up pillows and simply pray.

Always be joyful. Never stop praying. Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you who belong to Christ Jesus.  1 Thessalonians 5:16