7 Comments

From where I am Wes, and I suspect where anybody is, is at variance with most, only my kids know I’m a believer. If they believe that. I was on the other side of it at least partly as a student. I found the aggressive approach of the campus “preacher” who picked a corner and shouted for hours, obnoxious. The church I joined as a kid removed my membership for non-pledging and published the names of the removed, in the church bulletin. That indicated it was about money. It took years to learn otherwise, and it wasn’t until I had real trouble that I saw desperate prayer answered. That has changed, everything. Only divine intervention could have pulled me back to safety.

I know there are needs, every day and everywhere. I often wish I could solve those needs. Prayer is, really, the best I have to offer.

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That doesn’t make me devout, or special, or even saved. It means I work on it.

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God provides. Praise God. Amen.

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Prayers really do get answered. That's about all I know. People ask me sometimes, to prove a point about religious radicalism or something, "What would it take to make you stop believing in God?" Nothing would, because He's proven himself already.

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And sometimes we are thankful for unanswered prayers. Thank you.

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I didn’t know the origin of that phrase; thanks!

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