Does God Hear My Prayers?

Something strange happened a few years ago.

I’m not sure what made me think about it this morning, but there it was… loud in my mind as I was pouring Bran Flakes for breakfast. Maybe because I knew I would have an hour to myself today (that would allow me to write about it.)  Maybe because we’re about to start our Week of Prayer at church tomorrow.

Either way, something strange happened a few years ago and I’m finally getting around to writing about it.

It was a warm day circa 2016 and we decided to get our kids out of the house for some forced family fun. Prince William Forest Park is just down the road, so we drove to one of our favorite trails for a short hike. Penelope was around three years old at the time so she was distracted easily. I hung behind with her and we started going at her pace.  As the trail wound through the forest, it came up parallel to a creek. Penelope found a stump and wanted to take a break, so we sat on it together. The water was calm and we took some time to watch the sparkles dance on it.

And then the most unexpected thing happened.

Maybe you’re expecting a snake or a bear or something to enter this story. No… it wasn’t anything like that. It was Penelope. She looked up at me and asked a question. A very simple question.

“Mom, can you pray that God turns the water pink?”

I looked down at her and sighed.

Oh, to be a three-year-old girl.

To be a child just learning about the power of her Creator and her King. To be a child forming a theology of prayer and all its complexities. To be a little girl who is obsessed with the color pink.

I smiled.

“Well, Penelope…” What could I possibly say?

After stumbling around a bit, I mumbled something to the effect of, “It doesn’t really work that way…”

Solely to prove to my daughter that God doesn’t just erase natural laws (like gravity or physical properties) or answer frivolous prayers, I half-heartedly prayed that He’d turn the creek pink. There, I thought. God can teach her what He needs to about prayer.

We sat in silence for a minute just reflecting kind of like the water was doing. I’m not sure what was going through her little mind. I know I was wrestling with the power of prayer and why an all-powerful God even asks us to participate in it.

Now, what happened next is really the strange part.

No, still no piranhas or sharks that somehow made their way from the Atlantic to the Chesapeake to the Potomac to Algonquian Creek.

Little Penelope, three-years-old, said in a soft whisper, “It’s happening….”

Before I could roll my eyes or even think of a response, I saw what she saw. I blinked, shook my head and just started laughing.

She was right. It WAS happening. At that exact moment, the sky was turning a pinkish hue and something about the reflection of light and sky made the creek actually look pink. Pink enough to satisfy Penelope and confuse me, at least.

She jumped off the stump and started skipping down the trail towards her sisters while I sat frozen in a pile of shock and confusion. 

What had just happened?

Did God really hear that innocent prayer and seriously do that just for fun?? To show us His Fatherly heart and love? To prove ME wrong?

Now, of course the application of this message isn’t to think we can pray for whatever we want and expect that God will answer with a yes. God desires us to pray for things close to His heart, not frivolous things that are only close to ours. God isn’t a rabbit’s foot or a genie in a lamp. But, having said that…WOW. Just wow.

There are times that we should pray for things even if they seem unreasonable. We need to learn how to pray with greater expectancy that God is actually listening and using our prayers. Even though God has answered our prayers with a ‘no’ many times, that shouldn’t prevent us from still seeking His face.

It’s all a mystery, isn’t it? Prayer is a great mystery. But, that day on the bank of a creek, deep in a forest, it was like God winked down on us. And said, Don’t worry about understanding it all. Just do it. And watch me work. And be amazed.