A B C 1 2 3
Bruce D. Porter
Some years ago I heard a story about a little boy in Primary class who was asked to say the opening prayer.
“Heavenly Father,” said the boy, “I thank thee for the letter A.
I thank thee for the letter B. I thank thee for the letter C.”
The teacher realized this could be a very long prayer, but she restrained herself from stopping him.
He went on to give thanks for every letter of the alphabet through Z. Then he said, “And Heavenly Father, I thank thee for the number one. I thank thee for the number two.” And so on he went.
His teacher nearly panicked. She didn’t know how high the boy could count. She felt she had to stop him, but again something seemed to restrain her. The boy kept on praying until he reached the number twenty. And then he said, “And Heavenly Father, I thank thee for my Primary teacher,
who is the only grown-up that ever let me finish my prayer.”
I am deeply thankful for the gift of prayer, which is surely among the greatest of gifts given by our Father in Heaven to His children on earth. Prayer is the ordained means by which men and women, and even little children, come to know God. It is our channel of communication with heaven. It is a priceless privilege.
My mother grew up in the small town of Liberty, Utah. When she was young, in the 1930s, her ward had an organist who could play only one hymn. The congregation sang other hymns a cappella, but at least once every Sunday they would sing, “Ere you left your room this morning, Did you think to pray?”
I especially love the third verse of the hymn:
When sore trials came upon you,
Did you think to pray?
When your soul was full of sorrow,
Balm of Gilead did you borrow
At the gates of day?
Did you think to pray?
When your soul was full of sorrow,
Balm of Gilead did you borrow
At the gates of day?
I think of “the gates of day” as the opening to a realm of eternal daylight gates of prayer that connect us with our heavenly home and the realm of glory where God and Christ dwell.
When we pray, we borrow strength, love, and light at the very door of eternity.
Yet all too easily our prayers can become repetitive and perfunctory, a mere check on a checklist of duties and tasks in a given day. But prayer was never meant to be ordinary:
it can be among the most exalted of privileges we enjoy in this mortal sphere.
Several years ago our oldest son shared with me a lesson he had learned about prayer. He was a very busy student at BYU. One evening he sat down to eat a quick dinner and, out of pure habit, said, “Please bless this food to nourish and strengthen my body.” He opened his eyes and looked at his food: a Twinkie and a can of soda. He realized there was no way that food was going to nourish and strengthen his body.
He later explained to me that the experience taught him the meaning of the phrase “vain repetitions.” When we repeat the same stock phrases over and over in prayer, but not with real intent when our heart and mind are not in the prayer then we are only engaging in vain repetition.
The Lord’s promise “Draw near unto me and I will draw near unto you” captures the essence of heartfelt prayer. Heartfelt prayer is not just a list of things to give thanks for and things to ask for. It entails coming to know God. It means seeking understanding of divine truths, seeking to better understand the purposes of one’s life and how to best please God; it means talking with the Lord about things that matter most, “the things of our soul” Such experiences in prayer are sacred and will be cherished throughout our lives.
When we truly pray from the heart, we open our innermost feelings to our Father in Heaven: we tell Him of our challenges, our feelings of inadequacy and weakness; we share our emotions and feelings about decisions that face us or trials and adversity we experience; we freely express our sorrows and joys. Now, God knows our innermost thoughts and feelings even better than we do, but as we learn to share them with Him, we make it possible for His Spirit to enter our souls and teach us more about our own selves and about the nature of God. By making ourselves totally honest, open, and submissive before God, our hearts become more receptive to His counsel and His will.
Prayer is the act by which the will of the Father and
the will of the child are brought into correspondence with each other.
Prayer should never be a matter of trying to change God’s mind, to persuade Him of the rightness of our request, or to counsel Him as to what is best. God’s will is perfect. He knows all things and sees the end from the beginning. He knows better than we do what is best for us. Sometimes we fervently plead for the Lord to give us certain things that He knows are not ultimately in our best interest or in that of a loved one: for example, to receive a certain job offer in a specific city or to prolong the life of a terminally ill or aged family member.
The first order of prayer should be to learn the will of God and be given the strength to accept it.
“Thy will be done” ought to grace all prayers, as it does the Lord’s Prayer.
“When the disciples asked Jesus why they could not cast a devil out as they had just witnessed the Savior do, Jesus answered, ‘If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove’. I have never witnessed the removal of an actual mountain. But because of faith, I have seen a mountain of doubt and despair removed and replaced with hope and optimism. Because of faith, I have personally witnessed a mountain of sin replaced with repentance and forgiveness. And because of faith, I have personally witnessed a mountain of pain replaced with peace, hope, and gratitude. Yes,
I have seen mountains removed.”
Richard C. Edgley
“We live so far below the level of our divine possibilities.”
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