Every Sunday morning on our way to Sunday School, we drove past the Holliston's house, and every single time, my mother spoke out loud with a short prayer that God would save that family.
She also prayed for our neighbors, Nettie & Daniel, and Miss Conn. She shared her faith with them many times, and they called on her when they needed prayer or answers.
Those prayers were not long, just to the point, and to The One she knew would answer.
I know that my prayers today are much like hers. I don't pray all around the mulberry bush, but to the point. When someone is on my heart, I lift them up right then. There are times when long and detailed prayers and time alone with God are what I must have, but many times it's what is on my heart as I go about the day.
I've never questioned why I pray that way, but I can look back and know that it's because my mother taught me by how she lived and prayed.
She kept a prayer journal. I often wish I had done that. I wrote about her prayer journal and seeing my own name in it here. I also saw her tears, and the worn thin pages where she had gone back and prayed again, over and over. I'm sure I added some tears of my own the day I read it.
I know that the Holliston family are checked off in that journal, and many many others, including some special prayers that had my name on them.
Do you pray that way, and are there many names of family, friends and neighbors that you lift up as you think of them?
God hears every prayer.