It’s hot, and my prayer life isn’t.
These sweltering days leave me without much motivation. I pray, but not passionately. I get distracted, and wonder how the Israelites survived 40 years of desert heat. I imagine the sweat streaming down Abraham’s face as “he was sitting at the entrance to his tent in the heat of the day” (Genesis 18:1).
But I do try to pray. I make time in the morning, at midday, at bedtime; I send up a word when a siren wails or I see someone struggling or hear of a person who is sick. Granted, I pray quick prayers, dull prayers, everyday prayers. They’re what I have to offer when the temperature and humidity are nearing 100.
As long as I’m clear about the difference between “I can’t” and “I’m uncomfortable and don’t want to,” I have nothing to feel guilty about. But to keep myself honest, I offer two little prayers as well:
Lord, I give you everything I have to give today
and
Jesus, keep me from excuses.
May you pray well this week, even in the heat.
