simple prayer


Let me tell you about Steve.  His is 70+ years old; he often wreaks of nicotine.  His flannel jacket with an attached sweatshirt hood is his favorite, and seemingly ONLY, garment.  He has a thick (and impressive) handlebar mustache attached to his leathery, spotted skin; stained by 2 1/2 packs of Pall Malls a day.  His hair is a greasy salt and pepper; mostly salt.  His voice sounds exactly like the old cowboy at the bar in "The Big Libowski" mixed with cough. Steve has seen a life full of wandering the country as a nomad.  Traveler + bum = nomad.  His body is weary from his lifestyle.

Why am I telling you about Steve?

Because I want to paint a picture of a favorite prayer. Pray-er.  One morning was a typical prayer by Steve as we opened a group session.

"Good morning Father!  I probably should have talked to you about this earlier, before we got started.  I have been spending time with you a lot lately and learning a lot about myself.  It has been good to know you more.  Thank you for loving us and being with us..."

Then I trailed off in my attention because I was thinking about how much I loved hearing Steve pray; I checked in again in time to hear him say,