Prayer. It's more than just asking God for things, but that seems to be what I most often turn it into when I bow my head. Sure, I say, "Thank you for this day" or if I'm about to eat "Thank You for this food", but what does that signify? If my heart isn't truly thankful, I'm merely breathing out thoughtless words that get stuck in a passing wind of thought, are swept away, and disappear.
Also, if I've learned anything about prayer, anything I offer to God without having sacrificed something else for it is potentially worthless. If all the time I give to God are leftovers, a little bit of free time to spare, it's not worth very much. On the other hand, if I give up that time I was hoping to watch Pirates of the Caribbean to get down on my knees, fold my hands together, and push everything out of my mind but my God, that would be worth a little more. Deciding to not go to that late-night party in order to spend the last hours of the day with God --- this too is worth something. Not only do these things honor God, but they help the Christian grow. I've found that the less time I spend on me and the more on God, the better off I truly am: I can respond to my sister with patience and love, when I would normally brush off her questions or suggestions with curtness and frustration; I can jump up from what I'm doing and oblige my mom's request to do my daily chores with a bright smile on my face (and yes, this too would otherwise be quite impossible). Mundane things are not so disgusting when the blood coursing through working hands comes from a heart that is full of Christ.
Thy hand is on the sickly one
The one who doubts and fears
Your hand is gentle 'pon the weak
'Wilst wipes away their tears
In Your own good and perfect time
Cure every hurt You will
And bring to life the souls of which
Hearts beating have grown still.
As the deer panteth for his drink
Of waters pure and sweet
Our hearts all long to see Your face;
The God-head one day meet.
The vastness of Your glory, Lord
Expands beyond the skies;
Amongst the wonders of the earth;
And all things 'fore my eyes.
Your mercy I do not deserve
Nor breath, nor steps, nor days.
For grace from Christ's most precious blood
I'll give You endless praise.
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