Prayer works, believe it or not

Back in July, I asked for prayer for Mike's father, who had cancer. Turns out it's been answered beyond all expectation. At least any expectation of mine.

I e-mailed Mike the other day to ask how things were going, wonderinng if it was time to start praying for his soul instead of his healing. Mike's answer (posted with his permission):

Nope... he is actually doing great. In fact it is quite miraculous how well his is doing. What is more, he gave his life to Christ in my church about a month ago... walked up to me crying after service and said he prayed the prayer with me and I can see the change in his life already. Thank you so much for praying for him... God has certainly listened and responded.

I wrote back:

This business with your dad has been a smack-in-the-gob reminder of something that we're constantly being told but that I have a hard time believing: prayer works. It really does. Yet I know I've been disappointed so often in praying that I had come to believe in the back of my mind that it only works for other people. You know, the sort of people who announce to the world that their prayers for the most unlikely things have been answered, and hint loudly that if we would just pray more, or better, our cars will run better, our children will grow up right, and our toenails will cease to be ingrown. I'm not even talking about the prosperity gospel, name-it-and-claim-it bunch; they're comparatively straightforward. I mean the people who are more-prayerful-then-thou, whose eyes naturally fall into a gaze-toward-heaven position. You know the kind I mean.

But when I pray, it always seems like that's God's cue to do exactly the opposite. "You think you've got troubles NOW? You just watch!" I know intellectually that that's not what happens, but emotionally it's hard sometimes to see effectual prayer as anything more real than Santa Claus.

In your dad's case, I did something I'd gotten out of the habit of doing: I prayed the rosary. I went into it with the same lackluster trust in the power of prayer that I've had for several years, and it didn't make any difference. The prayers were still answered.

The thing I have trouble remembering about prayer is that its efficacy isn't dependent on how good I am at it. In praying the rosary, I asked the strongest prayer warrior in Heaven for her help in praying. But if she hadn't been there, if it had just been me, God and a string of beads, I still wouldn't have been praying alone. God is always at the other end. Even the beads would have been optional at most.

And there's my dirty little secret. Even when I pray, I don't really think it's going to do much good. Fortunately, God ignores my bad attitude and takes the prayers at face value. Prayer works, in spite of me.

Thanks to everybody else who prayed, particularly Julie, who posted the request on her blog. And especially, thank you, Blessed Mother. I'm sorry I doubted you. Praise the Lord!