I don't think I pray right...

I used to sit at Ranger games and pray. Not because I was a super spiritual child, but because I was trying to win God's favor so he would help my team win. I promised him I would be nice, clean my room, eat my vegetables, obey, or basically never do anything bad again. 

All I wanted in return was a win. 

The older I got, the more this mentality became a part of my life with God. I understood God to be weighing my choices and then determining my blessings. If something didn't go my way, then obviously God was not pleased with the choices that I had made recently. And if things went the way I needed, I hardly ever gave God much credit. Those things were mostly on me and my own awesomeness. 

Honestly, I'm just older now. Not wiser. I still have no idea what I'm doing in regards to prayer. I don't know what to ask for, when to ask for it, or even if I should ask at all. Sometimes I wonder if I'm not folding my hands right or if I forgot to close my eyes. I don't know if he listens or when he listens or even what language he speaks. God and I usually differ on how and when to answer prayers. He and I are totally at odds on who should face trials and who should get blessings. 

But I started doing a "bible study" every other Wednesday for a group of people in a nursing home. There are usually around 15-20 of them. Some of them can't speak. Some of them can't stay awake. A few cuss at me. Most of them have no idea what I'm saying or even what day it is. But still, we meet twice a month and "study". (Dementia Devotionals 401 should be a required class in seminary)

One week we read Matthew 6. Not because we wanted to exegete the Sermon on the Mount. Because I didn't plan anything that day, scrambled through my bible, didn't really care because they don't get it anyways, and landed there with Jesus talking about prayer. 

I just started reading and they started praying. I tried it again the next week. And the next. It keeps happening. More join in every week. And so for a few minutes, these mostly forgotten people, do whatever they can to say the Lord's Prayer. Even the most precious, confused, and spirited woman in the bunch...has moments of complete clarity and will almost lead us all with old school power and conviction. Then it's back to bingo, puréed diets, and hospice for us all. 

It is one of those tiny spaces between heaven and earth. Places we miss because we aren't looking or paying attention. 

God and I really aren't all that great at the moment. I'm a little (or a lot) upset with the way he's doing things. Once again he forgot to ask me my opinion on how it should go. I can't see what he's doing or why he's doing it this way. 

And I just feel like I haven't been praying right again...

But there is a group of sweet, old, and crazy people who are teaching me that praying isn't about knowing the system. It's not about karma or being good enough. It's not about being happy with life all the time. Or fully understanding what the hell is going on around you. It's not about asking for the winning run in return for a perfectly clean room. 

It's about gathering up all that you have and just showing up. As is. 

Tomorrow they'll be there at 10a. Some got there on their own. Others had to have help. Tomorrow I'm going to gather up all I have and show up as well. Broken for sure,  but looking for that tiny space between heaven and earth.