God of Zion,

to you even silence is praise.

Promises made to you are kept -

you listen to prayer -

and all living things come to you.

When wrongdoings become

too much for me,

you forgive our sins

Psalm 65:1-3

Many years ago, before I was in the pastorate, Joyce and I taught a sixth grade Sunday School class in a large church. It was a good class with lively and intelligent 'tweenagers' and it was a joy being involved with them.

However, as I have reflected on that teaching experience I'm reminded that all of us tend to put ourselves in molds - things we like to do to the exlusion of things we're less comfortable with.

In the case of this class, I was the teacher, Joyce was the pray-er. I'd go all the way through the lesson and at the end I would turn to Joyce and ask, "Will you give the closing prayer?" It became a weekly habit, but she never resisted my request.

Years later, thinking about this, I was puzzled why this pattern had evolved. Then it hit me right between the eyes: I was afraid to pray out loud in front of the children; I didn't want them to hear an adult fumble for the right words. Especially when my words were directed to God.

I've come to the conclusion that we need to accept our own imperfection. God accepts us the way we are - faltering, fearful prayers and all. God accepts our stuttering, stammering prayers as well as those filled with flowing and flowery prose - and maybe, were the truth known, the hesitant, humble prayer is the one God likes best.

Since the time of that sixth grade Sunday School class, I've found a new joy in prayer, public or private. I still may fumble at times, but I sense an assurance that God hears and responds to my prayers, fumbles and all.

All powerful and loving God:

Put the prayers of my heart on the lips of my mouth.

Remind me of your willingness to respond

to every prayer and that you are

always within hearing range.

AMEN