Prayers for Today

 Why on EARTH is this size 00 dress still hanging in my closet?

While I understand (and often tell others) that prayer is no more or less than a convo with the Guy Upstairs, I still fret over my wording, not to mention timing and intent, when I begin to pray. At the core of it is my consistent feeling that I have NOTHING to complain about/ask God for, compared to vast numbers of other humans on the planet. My “special requests” are either really selfish (“Please God let it not rain when I have to drive at night!”) or redundant (does God honestly need another prayer for “world peace”?) At my worst, my prayers are mumbled and rushed, recited by rote and barely coherent. Why on earth would those be answered? I mean, imagine talking to SANTA like that, and expecting to get your coveted Uggs slippers (color: lavender) under the tree! I don’t think so!

 

But no more! I have written my very own brand-spanking new list of “prayers for today” and if I do say so myself, they rock. As the God I worship has, coincidentally, my exact same sense of snarky humor, I’m sure these gems will be top-of-mind when the Almighty doles out the goodies! Here we go:

 

Lord of the Dance,

We both know it’s been a minute since I cut any sort of rug. Even in my heyday, my herky-jerky moves on the dance floor were pretty pitiful. So I’m not asking for a role in a production of “Footloose.” I just want to descend the stairs in the morning without my arthritic knees shrieking in agony. Please grant me instant and total pain relief that does not involve PT. Or exercise of ANY sort. Amen.

 

Streaming God,

When folks gather to discuss the shows they are binge watching, I am struck mute. I cannot tell my Maisel from my Lasso, my White Lotus from my Yellow Stone. Return to me the attention span of my youth, so I can stay awake long enough to get through one 22 minute episode of anything. I truly don’t care what. As long as it doesn’t involve any Real Housewives. Amen

 

Post-Menopausal Lord,

Life can be so unfair! Where is the justice in a world where a person can no longer fit in her old wardrobe through absolutely no fault of her own? For the sake of my poor bruised ego, please immediately convert my size 12-14 clothing labels to 00's. And while you’re at it, please remove every calorie from crème filled donuts. Kettle chips too. Feeling better already! Amen

 

Compassionate One,

You know that I struggle to finish the occasional blog post. When all my clever ideas go “poof,” give me a graceful out, so I can wrap things up without feeling guilty.  Maybe my computer is acting weird. Or I suddenly need to deliver Meals on Wheels to a remote location in North Dakota. Or even better, just give me the wisdom to somehow make it to 500 words. 

 

Did it! Thanks, Lord!

Oh, and Amen.

I'm getting sleeeeepy....