Dear Lord, I’m not quite sure why you weren’t able to grant my request for Andrew to come home early.  It would have been wonderful to have had some back-up last evening when Nathan needed supervising while I helped Emily with her homework.  Then, perhaps, my best crystal vase wouldn’t have been involved in a science experiment that ultimately saw it end up in a million tiny pieces.  Then, perhaps, I wouldn’t have been forced to scream like a banshee, very probably attracting the attention of every neighbour in a four-mile radius, thus losing my dignity (and my remaining sanity) in a single evening.

I suppose I shouldn’t blame Nathan for being a curious, intelligent child, for wanting to find out how things work.  If anyone is to blame it is me.  I should have made sure he was occupied before helping Emily.  I should have been clearer about the rules.  I shouldn’t have shouted so loud that I made him cry.  But my vase, Lord.  I loved that vase – and all the more since it was the last present my grandmother ever gave me.  Why couldn’t it have been something else?  Like something Andrew’s Aunt Suzette had given us for a present.  Any of her gifts would have been worthy of obliteration.

Other mothers, I’m sure, don’t have these problems.  Caroline has three children and they never seem to fight.  Faith, Trinity and Christian are all gifts straight from you, Lord, complete with wings and halos.  Caroline herself should be nominated for sainthood, but for the small point that she isn’t Catholic.  Me, on the other hand, I have children straight out of You Know Where, and a lamentable lack of motherhood ability.

Help!

Amen.

Hello, Lord.  Me again.  Home without Nathan again while he creates havoc at kindy.  Here and keen to be more thankful, but slightly struggling to be honest, with the whole thankfulness thing in light of my current feelings about my children.

What is it about Emily and Nathan that prevents them from getting on together?  Why is it, Lord, that they have to fight about every single facet of their existence – who sits where in the car, who owns what toy, who gets to watch what on t.v, who has the bigger helping of ice cream, who is the best, brightest, fastest?  I know that the three years between them is more than is considered ideal, but never in my wildest dreams would I have ever thought that my lovely children (and they are lovely, Lord, especially when asleep) could be so aggressive towards each other.  Give me strength!

I know it would be so much easier if Andrew didn’t have to work late so often, but what can he do, I suppose?  He could refuse, but these days no one has the temerity to say no to their boss since the unemployment lines are swelling by the day.  I pray he might be home early tonight, for a change.  I seriously need a break.

Better get on with the chores, Lord.  Until tomorrow…Amen

Monday afternoon, Lord.  Peace and tranquillity with Nathan at kindergarten.  Not a single mad campaigning tree-hugging father in sight.  Just you, me, and the washing machine again!  And me back on my two-day miracle cycle.

First of all, thank you for yesterday, Lord.  I will say for the first time in a long time I actually vaguely enjoyed church.  Maybe it was because I didn’t feel as guilty as usual, maybe it was because Nathan wasn’t frog marched out of Sunday School with some tale of how he had tied some girl’s plaits together with pipe cleaners, or maybe it was because my in-laws were mercifully absent.

Whatever the reason, Lord, I am grateful.  It certainly inspires me to want to keep my prayer journal up if that’s the sort of result I’ll see.  But then, that makes it more about me than about you again, and that’s not what I want at all.

I enjoyed Daniel’s message – another about prayer.  I also felt quite proud when he asked if anyone had started a prayer journal and I was one of the only people who put their hands up.  Even Daniel’s trophy wife, Abigail, didn’t raise so much as one carefully cultivated eyebrow to indicate she’d followed her husband’s directive.  Caroline, of course, had her hand up higher than anyone, even though she’s probably the shortest adult in the congregation.

Daniel talked on 1 Thessalonians 5: 16 – 18, about being joyful always (oh, I wish), about praying continually (one hundred percent improvement down, one million percent to go) and to give thanks in all circumstances.  It was that which spoke to me most – not giving thanks for all circumstances, but in all circumstances.  It occurs to me that I could be much more thankful, Lord.

So, thank you…and Amen.

Dear Lord, here it is Sunday.  With having the family home yesterday I completely failed to find a moment for myself let alone any moments with you.  And as it is, today isn’t shaping up to be much better what with trying to get us all ready to go to church and out the door before ten o’clock.

But Lord, I hate going to church and looking around at everyone and feeling as though they have it all together since, as you know and I know, I’m not a very good Christian.  It makes me feel so guilty and unworthy that then I forget I’m there to concentrate on you, not on me.  So I figure I should at least try to spend some time with you before I go, especially now I’ve started this journal, so that when I arrive I at least know things between us are okay.

I don’t seem to be able to go a day without needing forgiveness for my many and plentiful sins.  Forgive me Lord.  Make me right in the way that only you can.  And if there’s any possibility of making sure Nathan behaves himself at Sunday School that would be wonderful too.

In Jesus’ name I pray…Amen.

Morning Lord.  Here I am again.  I would feel more pleased with myself about managing yet another two-day-in-a-row miracle, but to be honest I’m not feeling that smug this morning.

I seem to daily discover the extent of my faults and how imperfect I am.  Take yesterday for example.  My father calls around.  I should be pleased to see him, but in truth I wasn’t.  He arrived ten minutes after I got back from dropping Nathan off at kindergarten, killing any possibility that might have existed for some peace and quiet.

He was filled with his usual stories about his long standing battle with the council over the proposed bypass which would see a stand of motley old trees get bulldozed out of existence.  But Dad sees no imperfection in those trees.  He loves them with a passion.  He came to show me that he’d had some business cards printed that stated proudly “Ryan Bailey – Tree Warrior”.  What was I supposed to say? 

I couldn’t think of anything supportive.  All I could think of was that the desire to show me his new business cards had more to do with him needing an excuse to flee home while Mum’s sewing group were there, and less to do with any remote interest I might have in his campaign.  I’m not sure what my father hates more – my mother’s stitching, gossiping friends, or his embarrassment over my mother’s atrocious housekeeping skills.

These are my family, Lord.  I should love them more.  And this is before I even mention that Andrew had to work late – again – and that by the time he arrived home I was so ready to throttle the children it was a wonder he didn’t have to restrain me.  Oh, the shame.  I’m sure this isn’t what you had in mind for me as a Christian.

Another day looms.  I feel resolved to try better, Lord.  I do desire to be a better Christian – all I seem to lack is the ability.  Be with me, I pray.

Amen!

Morning Lord.  Sorry about yesterday.  I’m not sure where the day went to be perfectly honest.  Well, maybe I do if we really are being perfectly honest.  I just got sidetracked and didn’t even stop to think about my prayer journal until it was way too late.

If it’s any consolation to you I wish I had prayed yesterday because then, just maybe, I wouldn’t be feeling as bad as I do now.  As you know, I had coffee with Best Friend Number One, Caroline, and as much as I love her, as much as she means well, there’s something about spending time with her that makes me feel so inadequate. 

I know she and Logan are much better off than we are financially (and how could they not be with Logan having a private proctology practice – something, even with the recession, that the bottom is never likely to fall out of) and I can’t compete with her fancy clothes and BMW, but it’s more than that.  Caroline arrives looking fresh and thin and perky, no hint of her having had three children.  Meanwhile my hair looks like an explosion in a mattress factory and my clothes aren’t anti-wrinkle, they’re anti-iron and they just seem to fall in all the wrong places. 

Caroline has Christian safely at home with the stand-by nanny while Nathan is firmly with me and going through some sort of strange stage where he’s fascinated by the contents of other people’s handbags.

In the face of all that perfection I just felt awful, especially when Caroline told me I was looking a little tired.  She also told me she’d started a prayer journal too.  Sigh.

But you know, in spite of how you are sometimes portrayed as being disapproving, I also get the sense that you often approve of me more than I approve of myself.  I can’t hear your voice – and yet I can – although I’m not sure what you are saying just yet.  I would ask you had patience with me, Lord, but I suspect you already have it by the bucket load.

Amen, Lord.

Well, here I am again, Lord.  Two days in a row!  I know that’s unlikely to qualify for miracle status in your eyes, but I can’t help feeling a little bit pleased with myself – even though I promised I’d pray first thing, and here it is 1.30 in the afternoon.

Andrew went back to work this morning, Emily to school, and then Nathan off to kindergarten at 12.45 so I’m here at home, by myself, with the lovely sound of silence (unless you count the washing machine) wanting to spend some time with you.  There’s not a sibling fight in sight.

Now I’m here I’m not sure quite what I should be praying for though.  I know I could get one of those prayer guides but somehow I feel a bit reluctant.  If I’m going to do this I want it to be honest.  I don’t want someone else’s words to get in the way.  When it comes to prayer I’m not sure there isn’t anything I can’t really say to you.  No doubt there’d be a theologian or two who would dispute that.  All I know is that I feel the need to talk to you in a new way – and I don’t want to start off on the wrong track by being untrue to my own thoughts and feelings.

I suppose what I want to pray about first is my family.  I pray for Andrew, Lord, that you would help him at work, where things seem a bit stressful at the moment.  I know I need to be more supportive as a wife.  I pray for Emily, look after her at school, and for Nathan who, at three and a half, seems far harder work than he ever was during the so-called terrible twos.  I know I’m not the world’s best mother, but I do want to do better.

Think I’ll try again tomorrow.  Maybe I’ll have things more together then.  In Jesus’ name I pray…Amen.

Hello Lord.  It’s Francesca here…Francesca Copeland.  I can’t help feeling the need to introduce myself even though I know you know just who I am.  As you also know it’s a long time since I became a Christian, but the honest truth is that I’ve never been good at the whole prayer-life side of things. 

I’ve always felt quite bad about that, especially since you really are the most important thing in my life.  I’ve always wondered whether my long silences, punctuated by bursts of panicked prayer in times of trouble, is for you a bit like people trying to parent their teenagers, or like me trying to get through to my husband when he’s watching sport on T.V. 

So, I suppose I would like to begin this prayer journal – which, as you know, I’ve been inspired to start on account of Pastor Daniel’s sermon yesterday – to begin by confessing my sin, especially in this area, and asking you to forgive me and cleanse me from all unrighteousness.  When Daniel spoke yesterday about the benefits of prayer journaling I felt quite deeply that this was something I needed to do, something that you would have me do.  I haven’t felt like that in a while.

So here I am Lord…although I have to go now because, even though today’s a holiday to celebrate Queen’s Birthday, there’s no holiday with children around!  I can hear Emily and Nathan fighting and it is sounding uglier by the minute.  Be with me today, Lord.  I pray this in Jesus’ name…Amen.