Am I a “Picky” Pray-er?

When I was a child, I was something of a picky eater. I didn’t like peas, or beets, or spinach , I wasn’t fond of lumpy mashed potatoes, and I didn’t like peanut butter sandwiches, or mustard on my hamburger. Of course, my parents were not sympathetic– I had to at least try some of my vegetables or potatoes, and, like it or not, I often found a peanut butter sandwich in my school lunch bag. I didn’t have to add mustard to a hamburger at home, but if it came on my burger at the drive-in, I either had to eat it with mustard, try to scrape it off, or go without! I didn’t have to be enthusiastic about dinner, but I was taught to be grateful for it.

Now that I am an adult, I still am not fond of peas, though I have learned to like beets and spinach. I don’t eat mashed potatoes very often, lumpy or otherwise. I eat the occasional peanut butter sandwich, and I actually love mustard on my hamburgers. I have learned to like foods that I didn’t like as a child, and learned that certain foods (even peas) are good for me, whether I like them or not.

I also learned to pray as a child–we had grace at meals, family prayer time, corporate prayer at church, and bedtime prayers. I learned that sometimes prayer is spontaneous and filled with praise; other times, prayer is dragged out of pain, or anger, pride, or shame. Prayer isn’t always “palatable.” But, like eating, it is necessary and good.

Just as I needed to learn not to be a picky eater, I have to practice prayer in all its aspects. God doesn’t just want the sweet prayers of praise that I am eager to sing out. He doesn’t just want the earnest requests I set before Him. He wants the rotten, stringy, overripe confession that I’ve been hanging on to. He wants the tormented “Why?” when things are falling apart. He wants me to chew on the unanswered requests and unfulfilled longings, and swallow the pride that insists on having its own way. He wants to savor those prayers when I can’t even find the words, but I come to Him anyway, hungry for answers, but even more thirsty for His presence.

Prayer isn’t always easy. It isn’t always “satisfying” in its daily practice. But it gives life and nourishment for the soul.

So I ask myself today: What am I praying about? What do I need to bring to God in prayer? What have I held back? What have I stopped praying for (and why)? Who has been on my heart or mind, but not in my prayers? What have I been trying to do in my own way that I haven’t shared with God in prayer? What does God know about me that I haven’t acknowledged? What praise or thanks have I withheld today? What worries have I borrowed from tomorrow?

What prayer practice do I need to try, or try again? It may take some stretching, but in the end, it’ll be better than peas!