I was asked today to talk about prayer with a group of young Sunday School children. I was interviewed by a young man with a set of very simple questions. But my answers were anything but simple. Doing that brought me back to my first real encounter with prayer. And of all places it happened in the garden. I grew up next to a woman named Penny Buffalo. She was a master gardener, always digging in her flower beds and mixing in her latest concoction. I absolutely loved spending time with her out there. She is my perpetual image of the Holy Spirit as she buzzed around her garden with the grace of a hummingbird.
Both Penny and I have moved on from our days in her garden. But I will always remember sitting in her lap as a four year old, smelling the flowers we picked, and listening to the beat of her heart as I laid my head close to her. So I told the children that my prayers are like listening for God's heart beat. If you are very quiet you can almost hear it. May your heart beat in time with God's and may you teach others to sit in the garden and listen as well.
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