book of rocks

Today I began to pile rocks.

A wise friend recently suggested that I write my prayers in a book. This isn't another journal to feel guilty about, a baby book to neglect, or a structured religious exercise. Rather, I hope it gives space for an occasional or often-stepped-on smooth, safe rock of rememberance. Whether lists, fully written letters, or simply notes in the middle of a mixed day or night, this book will contain - but not confine - personal moments of faith.

My friend suggested I not think too much about order or organization. She said to make no distinction between general hopes for other people, worldly situations, or personal dreams. Neither should I neglect those prayers that urgently cry for myself or others. Write it all - or write some - but write it down and record when and how it is answered. See, in my own handwriting, if there is an audience for my prayers.

I have confidence that God is faithful and real, and that he makes himself available to cradle even the most cautiously uttered prayer. Sadly, I often do not pause to consider his past faithfulness as I move forward. Sometimes I do, and it is always encouraging. However, there is so much reaching for my attention and memory that I can hardly remember the pressing issues of yesterday while looking at the present. I long for more consciousness, and I am certain it would be encouraging to recognize God's hand more often.

So, the book of rocks begins... I hope to look back periodically to see where I've come from and note where I'm going in the whispers of my heart. I will also record when and what answers - whether miraculous or seemingly mundane - are given. These will be my rocks - "ebeneezers," if you will - to remind me that thus far, the Lord has helped me.