My Alpha Talk on "Why and How Do We Pray?"

Imagine with me that you grew up with a very, very close friend.  A friend (maybe even a brother or sister, a neighbor, or a classmate) with whom you went to school, played with everyday, shared together all the ups and downs of growing up.  You studied together, shared Christmas in each others homes, swapped toys, maybe even double-dated when you were in high school.  You were considered inseparable. 

Then you both went off on your separate ways to college or to work and soon lost touch.  Years passed and while you thought of this best friend often, you didn’t pick up the phone much, if at all and eventually you became unsure of where this person actually lived. 

Kind of like, “Well, my best friend growing up went off to college, got married, and they moved away.  I think they are in Mississippi now and have a couple of kids, but I’m not sure.”

I was raised in an Air Force family and about every three years we rolled up the tent, so to speak, and moved to another air base.  I did not have a friend for more than 3 years at a time.  Usually about a year and a half and they moved and then we moved.  Rarely did anyone I cared about ever show up at the next assignment.  I wish I had had that close friend.

Actually, I did … that friend was always there, we spoke often and every day.  He was always with me in the ups and downs of childhood.  In fact, I always had a direct conversation with Him every night before bedtime.  I’ll bet you’ve guessed who my friend was … God, that was Him!

Well, just like my hypothetical story, I lost touch with Him over the years.  We hadn’t spoken in quite awhile up until a few years ago.  In fact, after some time as an adult I decided I would not visit anymore and stopped going to church.  Even decided that organized religion wasn’t of much help to me and that I could pray or worship on my own without going to a church at all.  So the only time I did go was when I was “home for the holidays”, or someone got married, or had a child that needed baptism.  Often, when I did go to church I came out angry instead of up-lifted.  Guess you can put together the idea that I stopped praying because the thought of God had become distant to me, not part of my daily routine, and that eventually it was embarrassing to pick up the phone, so to speak, and make that call to say “Hello”.  That is except in times of crises.

Its true there are no atheists in foxholes – at least none when I was serving in Vietnam.  And there are no atheists who have lost a job, been divorced, gone broke, or seen a loved one die.  Nope that’s usually when we summon up a call to God for help, express our anger, or admit our fear.  “Why me God?”