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(Everything looks picture perfect from the street, but once you're inside it's a whole other story.)

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

I Pray.

I pray.

I pray because I'm a Christian and it's what we do.

I  pray because I sin.  I'm pretty sure I do it every day and so I need to come clean to God.



I pray because I have questions without answers-and I hate that.

I pray because I am a planner.  I need to have Plans A-D ready to go for any situation.  However, I'm not the one in control here.  God is.  So, I pray.



I pray because I need to get things off my chest and God listens without interrupting me with His needs or complaints.  Plus, He forces me to listen, too.   

I pray because I can't do it alone.  Any of it.  I figure I should go straight to the source with questions about my life, so why not hit up the One who loved me before I was born, has counted all the hairs on my head, and knows every thought before I think it?  Seems logical to me.



I pray because I've been charged with raising 2 daughters-angels on this Earth for sure-and with the way society is headed these days, I want to protect them from everything; bullies, social media stalkers, cell phones and texting taunts, creeps, mean dogs, drugs, boys who will break their hearts, "friends" who will use them, and physical pain of any kind.  It's a tall order-I'm aware-and I'll need help.  So, I pray.







I pray because I'm a control freak, lax on laundry at times, imperfect, optimistic despite my better judgement, too easily disappointed, romantic, judgmental and impatient every now and then.  Jesus fixed all of that and I want to say "Thank you!" Everyday.  

 So, I pray.

 

  

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