Time for Prayer

I have a monkey mind.  I can't even focus long enough to finish a prayer in silent meditation.

This is how my mind wanders as I attempt mindfulness:

Deep breath.  Feel the breath fill up my lungs.  Feel my chest expand.  Feel my chest deflate as I slowly exhale.  Focus.

My lungs hurt. Burn a little, actually, from the humidity, which triggers my asthma.  Only in Maryland (ok, maybe all of the southeast, too) can you actually feel the air, it's so thick.)  I really hate humidity.  Is there any place to go without humidity that isn't 110 degrees in the shade?  Probably not. 

Oh, yeah.  I was praying.

My right knee is screaming because I'm sitting on the floor criss-cross applesauce style.  (Or Indian style but that's politically incorrect to say these days).  I'm too old to sit on the floor like this.

Oh, prayer.  Right.

Jesus.  What do you want me to do? Seriously.  Open my heart so I can learn my purpose.  Hear your calling.  Recognize the blessing of the Holy Spirit.

Maybe I should use my inhaler?  Where is my inhaler anyway?  I think I need to get that perscription renewed.  Ack.  That will mean a trip to the doctor's office.  Dumb, waste of time.  Just give me another inhaler.  Please and thank you.  It won't be that easy.  It never is.

Oh.  Back to prayer.  Focus.

I read Psalm 1.  Seems like as good as any place to start, followed by more prayer.

What else, Jesus?  I've resisted you for a very long time.  Apostasy.  Christian atheism as Craig Groeschel calls it and rightly so.  What more do I have to do to learn to trust you? To learn to trust in the Power of the Holy Spirit?

Does writing count as prayer?

"Mom!  Mom? Are you up there?" Thump, thump, thump.  Little feet pound up the stairs.  "You have to come see this.  Mummies are infecting the noses of the clone troopers."

Wait.  What? "Do you mean worms?"

Elias shakes his head vigorously.  His chest is heaving from rushing up the stairs, from excitement.  "Yes.  Worms.  They are crawling up the clone troopers noses and effecting them." (He means infecting but he says effecting.  It's cute.)

As Elias launches into a detailed explanation about worms infecting clone troopers and possessing them, I notice that he is pale.  There are dark circles around his eyes.  He's tired.  He is an early riser, my first born.  (He didn't inherit that trait from me.)  It's time for bed.

Prayer time over.