Prayer is my going home. Prayer isn't merely an empty action by which I make homage, try to please, or try to manipulate my Creator. It is the intimatacy of a child running into the house to its parent. Sometimes I come in dirty needing to be cleaned, sometimes I run in scraped up and crying, and sometimes I run in excited over something that happened in my day. At home I talk to my Heavenly Father, my best friend Jesus, or receive counsel from the Spirit.
It's so important for me to go home, because I don't completely "fit in" anywhere else. I might fit in partially, but not completely. Even within churches and strings of denominations (or "non-denominations"), I'm finding that as much as I love the Body of Christ I don't always fit in there too. To the traditionalist I'm too charismatic, to the charismatics I'm not charismatic enough, to the seekers I'm too deep, and all in all I love every denomination (and "non") to the point where they all think it's weird. Some think that I don't know what I believe. Well, my convictions and beliefs don't change wherever I go. I'm just looking to fit in. Don't get me wrong, there are places that I call home where I feel comfortable. I'm talking about the wide spectrum of Christian culture that exists in the US.
But I do fit in when I walk into my prayer closet, whether it be in my car, bedroom, in nature, or in a place of worship. I'm forever running home, until one day. One day I will never leave, so do not worry, or be surprised when it happens. I love home too much. One day I'll forever stay...no more running.
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