Devote Ourselves to Prayer - Redeemer Episcopal Church

John 17:1-11 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

Jesus Prays for His Disciples

17 After Jesus had spoken these words, he looked up to heaven and said, “Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son so that the Son may glorify you,’ 2 since you have given him authority over all people, to give eternal life to all whom you have given him. 3 And this is eternal life, that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent. 4 I glorified you on earth by finishing the work that you gave me to do. 5 So now, Father, glorify me in your own presence with the glory that I had in your presence before the world existed.

6 “I have made your name known to those whom you gave me from the world. They were yours, and you gave them to me, and they have kept your word. 7 Now they know that everything you have given me is from you; 8 for the words that you gave to me I have given to them, and they have received them and know in truth that I came from you; and they have believed that you sent me. 9 I am asking on their behalf; I am not asking on behalf of the world, but on behalf of those whom you gave me, because they are yours. 10 All mine are yours, and yours are mine; and I have been glorified in them. 11 And now I am no longer in the world, but they are in the world, and I am coming to you. Holy Father, protect them in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one, as we are one.

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This sermon was preached and recorded for a certain context in a certain time (Redeemer Episcopal Church for the 7th Sunday in Easter), but we believe that God can and will speak outside of our own limitations. I hope that it can speak to you in whatever space you are in today. You can read the sermon below, listen to it at this link, and see the sermon preached at this link. 

Let us pray. God of in-between times, be with us now in our waiting. Comfort us in our prayer and call us to further devotion in this time, trusting in your promise of hope and peace. Amen. 

When I read all of the scripture for this morning— the first reading, the psalm, the epistle, and the gospel— I hear a common thread about difficult times, changing, and challenging times. 

In the Gospel text we just heard, Jesus prays for his disciples, his friends, for the last time before he is betrayed and handed over to the authorities. This are about to get really messy for everyone involved. They are about to lose their teacher to death on a cross. 

In Acts, we see another turbulent time for the disciples. They have once again found themselves without their teacher. 

Ascension Day was this past Thursday, when Jesus was taken up into heaven to be with God the Father for eternity. 

Up until that time, Jesus was with his disciples again after being resurrected from the dead. What an incredible time that must have been for them, to have the fullness of joy after seeing their friend and teacher be killed. 

But now he is going to leave them again. After only being with them a short time.

This week in our lectionary season, Jesus has ascended to heaven and Pentecost has not yet come.

We heard last week that Jesus told his disciples that once he was gone, he would send the Paraclete— the advocate, friend, comforter, the Holy Spirit— to be with the disciples. But that happens next week. 

It’s in this in-between time where we find ourselves this morning.

This week… we wait. So there are ten days in our liturgical calendar where we wait again, like Holy Saturday, to see what God will do next. 

It strikes me that what the disciples do during this time is they constantly devote themselves to prayer. All together, Acts tells us, the disciples gathered in a room apart from everyone else and devoted themselves to prayer. 

It is not some new age way of worshiping that Father Wiley has called us to when he encourages us to create a worship space in our own homes for prayer and devotion. It is not bizarre that Heather, our formation director, and Hannah, our youth director, have encouraged us to pray with our families during this time, providing opportunities for faith formation in the midst of our work and family life. 

They are following the examples of the disciples. They are following the example of the first Christian church, the one that waited desperately for a time when they could safely go back into the world and proclaim the wonder and good news of Christ Jesus. It sounds familiar…

I imagine it was a long few days for them— as they waited to see what God would do next, clinging to the promises that Jesus had, indeed, fulfilled in the resurrection. And now clinging again to his promise that he would send someone else, a comforter, an advocate, a friend, to continue to guide us and give us wisdom. 

And in this long, difficult time, what do they do? They stay with one another and they devote themselves to prayer. They’re not praying because they believe it can solve some kind of problem. They probably aren’t even praying that Jesus come back or things go back to normal. They devote themselves to prayer because they know that when God feels far away, we pray. When God feels far away, we talk to God and feel closer. We talk to God and we ARE closer. We listen for God and feel comforted. Prayer is not some holy problem solver. It is a practice of putting ourselves deliberately and intentionally in the presence of God. In a time right after the disciples literally watched Jesus be raised to heaven, when he left them once again, what else are they supposed to do? 

We, too, are in a similar liminal space. I remember in the beginning of this season, thinking that this would only be a short time away from everyone. A few weeks, perhaps— maybe it would even be a sort of welcomed vacation for me. I hunkered down and began making preparations for when we would come back together. I began busying myself with all sorts of things. 

I don’t like feeling out of control, so I began finding problems I could solve on my own. Things I could do or fix. I told myself I would complete all of our house projects in these few weeks. I began staying up too late, distracting myself with mask-making and reading news articles. I was constantly looking for ways to spend my time so these couple of weeks would go by faster. I was constantly finding problems that I could solve in an effort to keep my mind away from the helplessness I was feeling. 

And then the weeks drew on and I began to realize that this would be a marathon instead of a sprint. And I began to notice myself drifting away from scripture, drifting away from my usual habits of prayer and devotion, drifting away from the assurances of God and God’s promises for us. I was busying myself in an effort to distance myself from God, thinking I could solve this pandemic on my own.  

So it feels appropriate that we are in this time in our church year and hear these stories of the disciples while we wait anxiously for government officials to give us more information, while we wonder what comes next for our careers, the economy, our health, and our church. I have found myself unsettled and wondering what, exactly, am I supposed to do while I wait? 

Well, what else are we supposed to do but follow the example of the first church and devote ourselves to prayer? To keep alert and to notice what God is doing next, clinging to the promise of the resurrection and the coming of the Holy Spirit. So that soon, we might emerge once again into the world, renewed in the Spirit once again, to proclaim the good news of Christ Jesus with new joy and hope on our lips. Amen. 

Relationship Through Prayer - Redeemer Episcopal Church

Trinity icon by Andrei Rublev
There is a place at the table for you.

Luke 11:1-13

He was praying in a certain place, and after he had finished, one of his disciples said to him, “Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples.” ²He said to them, “When you pray, say: Father, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come. ³Give us each day our daily bread. ⁴And forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone indebted to us. And do not bring us to the time of trial.” 

⁵And he said to them, “Suppose one of you has a friend, and you go to him at midnight and say to him, ‘Friend, lend me three loaves of bread; ⁶for a friend of mine has arrived, and I have nothing to set before him.’ ⁷And he answers from within, ‘Do not bother me; the door has already been locked, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot get up and give you anything.’ 

⁸I tell you, even though he will not get up and give him anything because he is his friend, at least because of his persistence (shamelessness) he will get up and give him whatever he needs. 

⁹“So I say to you, Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. ¹⁰For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened. 

¹¹Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for a fish, will give a snake instead of a fish? ¹²Or if the child asks for an egg, will give a scorpion? ¹³If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!”

_____________________

If you would like to listen to this sermon (with infusions from the Spirit), you can find it at the link here. This sermon was originally preached by me, Rev. Sarah Locke, on July 28, 2019 at Redeemer Episcopal Church. 

Grace and peace to you from God, our Father, who is so radical to invite us into relationship through prayer and allows us to be present in all of our human messiness. Amen. 

On Thursday evening this past week, I hosted a young adult gathering centered around the weird faith questions you sometimes feel too ashamed or silly to ask your priest.

In preparation for that gathering, I opened up my social media about a month ago to friends and my college students to ask me any religious or faith questions they’ve been wondering. It was anonymous and I was amazed by how many questions people had that they’ve never felt comfortable asking before!

I answered the questions as openly and honestly as I could and explained a little bit about why people might ask questions like that. Conversations like these are some of my favorites. It’s what we do with our college students in campus ministry every week— we ask big questions and we help one another sort them out. It is some of my favorite ministry.

After a few days, another question came in.  

“I don’t understand prayer,” it said, “I pray, but I feel like God already has a plan or answer so what’s the point? How am I supposed to pray?” 

And I let that question sit in my inbox for two days before I finally replied and said, “I promise to answer this question. But… I just don’t have a good answer. I don’t know.” 

And then I let that question sit there for a month. And I never replied to my friend. But I’ve been thinking about that question for an entire month until I opened up the gospel reading for this Sunday and I sighed with frustration, thinking, “Well great, now I’m going to have to try to answer this question.”

So that’s what I’ll do this morning with you all. I’ll attempt to answer this question about prayer that has been asked since the beginning of time, and a couple of other burning questions about prayer, like the ones the disciples had for Jesus in the gospel text this morning: How do we pray? Why do we pray? What’s the point? 

Do you ever think that the disciples got tired of Jesus never giving them a straight answer for anything? They ask him seemingly important and direct questions and he says, “let me tell you a story…” I imagine the disciples turning to one another after most of Jesus’ stories and going, “did you understand any of that? No? Okay great, me either.” 

Jesus does answer the disciples at the very beginning of this passage though. They say, “teach us to pray” and he recites a prayer for them to use each time they talk to God. And it’s the same prayer, more or less, that the church has been using for thousands of years. 

So, good for Jesus for finally giving them a straight answer. But then, because of course he can’t just stop with a simple answer, Jesus goes on to tell this story of a man and his sleeping neighbor. And the reason Jesus tells this story is that when the disciples asked Jesus to teach them to pray, they weren’t really asking for a prayer they could recite. What they wanted to know was about their relationship with God. 

Before then, if a person had the good fortune to encounter God, they were known to drop dead immediately. But somehow Jesus had this sort of normal, casual relationship with God and the disciples were curious about it. And as Jesus tells this story, he invites the disciples into an intimate relationship with their creator— that must have sounded blasphemous at best and downright ridiculous at worst.  

In this text, Jesus tells the story of a visitor has just arrived at a man’s house and he has nothing to feed him. So this man walks over to his neighbor’s house in the middle of the night, wake him up, and asks him for some bread. The text we read says that because of his persistence, the man gets up and gives him whatever he needs. But a better translation would be shamelessness. Because this man is so shameless in coming to ask for bread in the middle of the night, the neighbor gets up and gives him whatever he needs. 

And it *is* shameless isn’t it? Imagine the kind of relationship you must have with your neighbor to go pounding on their door in the middle of the night? I know people who have been living in the same house their entire lives and they don’t have that kind of relationship with their neighbors. It’s shameless and vulnerable to go to a person in the middle of the night and ask for bread. 

You see, I don’t think Jesus is teaching his disciples about what kind of prayers to pray, or even the frequency or urgency with which to pray. Jesus is telling a story about the kind of relationship we are invited into by the Holy Spirit. Unlike ever before, the disciples were invited to be vulnerable and shameless before God. 

When the disciples say, “Lord, teach us to pray,” what they are really saying it, “tell us about our relationship with God.” And Jesus gives them the most well-known prayer in all of Christianity, a prayer that begins with “Father.” Not “Lord,” or “Almighty” or any other number of names for the our most holy and ever gracious God, but Jesus invites his disciples and invites us to call God “Father,” “Abba,” “Dad.”  

We are called into a relationship with God that is more than an almighty ruler and servants. Even more than creator and created. We are invited into a relationship so intimate that Jesus says we can ask anything of God. And God says that this relationship is so good and wonderful that God will not only gives us everything we need in this life, our daily bread, but God will also give to us the Holy Spirit. 

You see, prayer is not about how, or why, or when we pray. The invitation to prayer is an invitation into a relationship with the Trinity, an invitation into a relationship with God, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. 

It is the same invitation that allows us to come to this table and eat the body and blood of Christ Jesus. It is the same invitation that dips us into the waters of baptism and renews our spirit. And God in Christ has already accepted this invitation for us, we don’t even *have* to respond. 

But we get to. We have the incredible privilege of reaching out to our creator, the one who was, and is, and will be forever more, the one who created the interstellar workings of the entire universe. And more than that, God listens. God wants to be in relationship with us and even more, the only reason we are able to reach out to God and be in this relationship is because God first began this relationship with us. In the very beginning. And continued that relationship despite our nonsense, when God sent God’s very self in Christ Jesus to be with us, journey with us, die on the cross, and be raised again for the forgiveness of our sins. That God— our God— as ridiculous as it sounds, wants us to be in relationship, to talk, and listen, and converse with us. That’s wild and full of grace and mercy and it truly doesn’t make much sense, but it is true. 

God created you and adores you and wants to be in relationship with you. 

So I’m sure I didn’t answer the question of prayer any better or more clearly than Jesus did, but I hope that you hear prayer as an invitation into a vulnerable, shameless, and holy relationship with our God, who created the entire expanse of the universe and cares enough about you to call you beloved and be present with you in all things through the Holy Spirit. Amen. 

So I started running...

There was a time in my life when I was semi-decently athletic. I used to love going out and running with my dad. We both liked to run slow and far to really absorb all of the scenery around our countryside Virginia house.

Unfortunately, this time in my life only lasted until about 8th grade. So right when I actually needed the exercise and stress relief, I wasn't getting it. I became a theater nerd pretty quickly and didn't think athletics could compete with that. 

This started a fun joke about how I never work out and if you see me in a gym it is probably because someone is paying me. It was true. I went from loving running (no other activity really sparked my interest), to doing absolutely nothing at all. 

College wasn't any different- I think I went to the really beautifully amazing gym twice (and once to buy a smoothie) and I went to the less beautiful north campus gym probably a half a dozen times. Somehow (thank you, divine intervention) I managed to keep off the "freshman fifteen." But I never started running again.

Around April of this year I was told some pretty traumatic news (at least as far as my relatively unicorns and rainbows life went). And I really didn't know how to handle it. Most of my kairos moments have been pretty wonderful. At least they have turned out to be blessings (like coming to seminary). I didn't know what to do with a completely negative, awful kairos moment. I literally wanted to run away from it. So I did. I started running again. It was the only way I knew how to completely focus my mind on something else. It was, somehow, a form of prayer as much as it was a form of exercise.

And I haven't stopped. As a matter of fact, it is now one of the only things that keeps my head from toppling off and rolling around my dorm room floor here at seminary. It is really difficult for me to get through the week without taking time out of each day to go for a run. It is stress relief in an amazing way and functions as a time to relax (the irony) and spend time with myself. 

But it is also a lesson in discipline with which I thought I was pretty okay. Until I signed up a half marathon and started training for that behemoth. My legs haven't been sore, I haven't hyperventilated from running to fast or too long, I'm not miserable. But still, nothing in my brain is telling me that I want to do a half marathon or that I'm even capable of doing a half marathon. I know that I just have to get through the mentality of it. Everything in my heart thinks this is going to be the best experience in the world. And who am I to deny what God has placed in my heart? 

I'm not going to run a half marathon by myself. I'm not even going to train for a half marathon by myself. I know that I wouldn't have even made it this far if it weren't for God putting the Spirit within me and giving me that will power.

Today marks my fifth week of training and all I can think about is how excited I am about the six mile run that will end my week.  I've never run six miles before. I've never even thought about running six miles before. Who am I?

Looking back to April, I know God was working in that kairos moment and I didn't even realize it. I needed a way to cope with stress that was healthy and didn't involve yelling or eating my weight in chocolate. And God was pretty smart to know that I wasn't just going to go run on my own. I needed something to make me hit that bottom and realize my life needed a change. He's pretty good at that most days.

In Between Moments

One of the questions I sometimes try to reflect on in my own life is, "Where am I experiencing God the most right now?"

The answer to that has changed a lot throughout my life. Obviously I can "find" God in any situation or circumstance if I "look" for Him.  But there have been moments when I wasn't even seeking Him consciously and He has just revealed Himself and made me feel His presence. Moments when I don't find Him, but He finds me. These moments rock my socks off.

So with the knowledge that I can't really conjure God's presence on my own, I look back and try to find a pattern of where I have felt His presence most in the past.

At one point in high school, God came close to me when I was in my backyard walking through the woods.
During college it was mostly when I was spending time with the youth group and I regularly watched God work through them.
Last spring it was at Jacob's Porch when I felt loved by people who had no reason to love me.
This summer it was when I ran in the afternoons as the sun was going down.

I'm feeling a change in things again.

In seminary we worship a lot. I love it. It keeps us centered on why we are here and what God is trying to tell us. We worship four days a week in the chapel at 11:30am. Most days we also have compline (nighttime worship) at 9pm. Almost all of our professors have some sort of devotional or prayer before they start class. Most of us also have some sort of personal devotional or ritual that we perform during the day. We also tend to go to church on Sunday mornings.

We worship a lot. And I love it.

But surprisingly, this isn't where I have been feeling God the most. Even in compline- which is absolutely gorgeous and exactly what I love about a worship service- I don't feel God as much as I feel Him elsewhere at seminary.

God has been finding me in the "in between" moments.

He has been finding me in the mundane conversations with my mom that turn into beautiful affirmations.
He has been finding me sitting on the floor of the old chapel sharing details about my life that I had no intention of sharing with anyone.
He has been finding me in the middle of the prayer labyrinth, not when I'm praying, but when I'm wrestling with theology alongside a friend.
He has been finding me lamenting in the hallway of my dorm while I realize that I am not alone in my struggles.
He has been finding me during midnight conversations with people I've only known for a few weeks.
He has been finding me while listening to music (not hymns, not Christian rock- just really good music) that has been shared with me.
He has been finding me every time a little girl yells my name from across a room, "Saaarwahh!"
He has been finding me in moments when I have stopped doing homework because someone has asked about Jesus and what it is like to be a seminarian.

He has been finding me in every way that I would not expect.

Probably because He's God and that's just kind of what He does- He likes to completely shatter our expectations. But it feels so big and so important. Those "in between" moments are so amazing to me. I think a lot of the time He waits until we aren't expecting it or not seeking Him and then He steps in and says, "Here I am."

Lord, as I am actively searching for You throughout the next week, month, and year, I pray that You continue to reveal Yourself to me in those "in between" moments that feel so divine. I pray that other people experience Your presence and Your love in whatever ways speak to him or her. Thank You for this community and the people who continually support this community. Thank You for Your grace and Your mercy through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord. Amen. 

Ruin me for the ordinary

This is the prayer I had taped to my rearview mirror for several months this past year. When it finally flew off while my windows were down, I thought maybe it was a sign that I needed to find a new prayer.

What I didn't realize until later was that this prayer, clearly visible to anyone riding in my car and very obnoxious to anyone who drives it, was pushing me toward constant prayer. I would get in my car, read it, and truly mean it every single day. I wanted God to ruin me. I didn't want to be comfortable anymore. I wanted my heart to be broken.

Well, if you know anything about my life this past year, God has done just that. I was uncomfortable, broken, and completely ruined.

But it was so good.

Now that I am starting seminary I am afraid that it is exactly where I am supposed to be. Why should I be afraid of that? Because I don't want to be comfortable. I need to be able to challenge myself. They won't let me take additional classes (yet) and I am afraid that I am going to have a very light schedule for my first semester.

So I have promised myself that if I am bored or even if I am slightly comfortable, I am going to push myself into uncomfortable and ruining situations.

I want my heart to be broken at injustice and cruelty, poverty and prejudice. I want my heart to break for the things that break God's heart. I know what that means. I know it means I am going to hurt. A lot. And I know that ruining me for the ordinary means that I will never be okay with myself in comfortable situations. I will never want an ordinary life. I know that is going to be challenging. But I am so desperate for Jesus that it doesn't matter anymore.

God isn't supposed to be comfortable to be around. My friend has a theory that, as a fallen humanity, we are not able to be naturally close to God. God is so incredibly good compared to us that we can't even fathom it.  That is why when we do things to be closer to God, whether it is turning the other cheek, forgiving over and over again, meditating, or loving people who we don't feel deserve our love- we are uncomfortable.  It doesn't feel good most of the time. Love hurts. Vulnerability hurts. But that is what brings us closer to God.

I need to keep pushing myself toward God. I don't know what that means yet, but I have a feeling that just knowing that it needs to happen is a step in the right direction.

Women of Valor

I read A Year of Biblical Womanhood by Rachel Held Evans few months ago and completely fell in love with it. I never got around to writing a blog post about it because I finished it when I was in the middle of moving into my new place and I was spending an incredible amount of time with my boyfriend who is no longer long distance (for the next two months at least).

So a few days ago I decided I needed to buckle down and write something. I did what I almost always do before writing: I brainstormed. Then when nothing came up (I lose inspiration unbelievably quickly), I decided to Google Image "women of valor," one of Rachel's big themes in her book. 

I must say I was really disappointed by what Google turned up:

Here are two beautiful women (of today's standards) in medieval clothing, doing things that men usually do (playing with bows and arrows and knighting a man).  What?

Why do "women of valor" have to be "women who do what men do?"  Why can't women of valor be women who do housework exceptionally well (my mother) or women who pray relentlessly for people (my grandmother) or women who cook amazing meals for their families on a regular basis (my future sister-in-law) or women who live every day broken hearted by the world and wishing that the Kingdom of God was now (my best friend)?  

I'm not necessarily one for "feminism," at least not the way it seems to be used today. I'm a fan of men holding the door open for me and pulling out my chair. In a lot of ways, this idea of "biblical womanhood" sounded really nice to me. Yeah, maybe I don't want to make my own clothes, but I don't really have too much of a problem with cooking for my family every night or taking care of the finances.  

But I am a little put off by feminists who believe that to be a strong, independent woman you must do all the things men do and receive as much or more recognition for it. Why can't I be a strong woman who decided to raise a family and stay at home for the first twenty years of marriage instead of becoming a lawyer or a doctor? Doesn't it take just as much hutzpah to raise a few kids?

I don't believe in the feminist movement that is out to prove that women are the same as men. 

We aren't. Intellectually, motivationally, sexually, emotionally- we are not the same creatures.  God made us different. God made woman the man's helpmate. Meaning men rely on us as much as we rely on them. We cannot function or reproduce by ourselves. And we are not the same.

I'm not saying that men and women should not have equal opportunities in employment and education. But please don't try to tell me that I am a better woman of valor than my mother just because she decided to stay at home to raise two kids and I have a degree and I'm going into a "man's profession."  Just don't. 

In fact, most of the women of valor in my life are just like my mother- women who have sacrificed and lived in such a way to give more to their children and their husbands than they give to themselves. They have lived Christ-like lives with pain and sacrifice and love beyond measure. And nothing, in my opinion, seems more valorous than that.

"Woman of valor" in Hebrew is translated eschet chayil. 

With that being said, women who find their calling in being teachers: eschet chayil!

Women who find themselves being mothers: eschet chayil!

Women who find themselves being soldiers: eschet chayil!

Women who find themselves being followers of Christ: eschet chayil!

Women who find themselves being promoters of justice: eschet chayil!

Women who find themselves being wives: eschet chayil!

Women who find themselves being single and strong: eschet chayil!

Women who find themselves being single and broken: eschet chayil!

Women who find themselves overcoming sickness of the heart, brain, or body: eschet chayil!

Women who find themselves living exactly how they wish to live: eschet chayil!

Women who find themselves being brave despite the world: eschet chayil!

Women who find themselves being brave because of the world: eschet chayil!

Women who are going to grad school: eschet chayil!

Women who are bosses: eschet chayil!

Women who are their own bosses: eschet chayil!

Women who have suffered and still live to tell the story: eschet chayil! 

Women whose stories we continue to tell: eschet chayil!

Women whose stories we have forgotten: eschet chayil!

Women whose only Master is the Lord: eschet chayil!

Praying

There are a lot of things I'm not good at. Like playing basketball. And math. And remembering dates. 

And praying aloud.

How do you pray? (Seriously, I want to know...)

Are you one to say everything out loud so fast that you barely remember what you said?
Do you raise your hands above your head and speak slowly, putting thought into every word?
Some people think it in their minds and in their hearts, do you?

I don't think there is a right way to pray. God hears us always, no matter what we say or do not say. 

I am not that great at praying aloud in front of people. Or even just Ronnie. My words don't make sense and usually I end up babbling about all the atrocities that break my heart in the world. That's fine and great, but I am going to be a pastor, and as such, I am going to be praying in front of people a lot. And probably from the seat of my pants. Wippee.  

I am trying to be better about praying aloud, but until then I will continue my prayers in my journal where I can go back and reflect on them in the future. 

I have a thing for the written word as opposed to the spoken word sometime. 

Therefore, for part of our Lenten sacrifice, Ronnie and I have been going through the Book of Psalms. I love it because of its prayers and beautiful imagery. 

So today I started writing out some of my favorite verses and it sort of developed into two prayers that I fell in love with. 

I want to share them with you because a) I'm proud of them (you know, because I can brag about verses in the Bible) and b) I think a lot of people have trouble with prayers and I'm hoping that maybe these prayers will help someone talk to God a little more comfortably. 

Morning Prayer

Lord, remind me how brief my time on earth will be. Remind me that my days are numbered- how fleeting my life is (39:4). God has made a home in the heavens for the sun. It bursts forth like a radiant bridegroom after his wedding. It rejoices like a great athlete eager to run the race (19:5). Thank you for letting the sun rise on me again, Lord. Show me the right path. O Lord; point out the road for me to follow. Lead me by your truth and teach me, for you are the God who saves me. All day long I put my hope in you (25:4,5). Listen to my voice in the morning, Lord. Each morning I bring my requests to you and wait expectantly (5:3). 

Evening Prayer

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing to you, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer (19:14). I am praying to you because I know you will answer, O God. Bend down and listen as I pray (17:6). Hear me as I pray O Lord. Be merciful and answer me (27:7)! How can I know all the sins lurking in my heart? Cleanse me from these hidden faults (19:12). No wonder my heart is glad, and I rejoice. My body rests in safety (16:9). In peace I will lie down and sleep, for you alone, O Lord, will keep me safe (4:8). 

I hope these help someone talk to God. That's what the Psalms are for anyway, right?