The Power of a Praying Dufus

"Rachel, will you close us in prayer?"

Smallgroupleadingpreacher'swife say what?

Panic engulfs me. I scan the room looking for emergency exits. I gasp for air.

"What?" I reply sweetly as if I didn't understand the question.

"Would you close us in prayer?" she responds.

It hits me like a ton of bricks.

She doesn't know.

Because we have just met, she assumes I am normal. She has no idea that my non-public praying is somewhat legendary. Had she asked that question while any of my friends were in attendance, their hysterical laughing would have drowned out my response.




Allow me to try to explain. I pray. Quite a bit actually. But I do not pray out loud in public. You might be surprised to know that this actually has nothing to do with my ridiculously low self esteem or my insurmountable insecurity. I don't pray out loud because I cannot utter even a single boring request to God without crying. Ever. No petition to my God is too mundane to start the waterworks.

This is why I don't pray with my husband. I know praying together is one of the best indicators of a strong and healthy marriage. I'm sure Kevin wants to pray with me. God knows we have a neverending set of topics we could address. But we don't because, honestly, I already make that man suffer through a tear filled rant at least once a day anyway. Hasn't he suffered enough?



We have one good friend who seems to be the unofficial prayer leader for our lives. If we go to lunch and she is not in attendance, chaos may erupt. The girls will not look to me to stand in the prayer gap. Nobody needs to see my chubby self crying over a vat of cheese dip at Cinco de Mayo.

I don't wanna get all super-spiritual here. I'm just a crybaby. Plain and simple. If you pass me in my minivan (where I spend 3/4 of my days it seems) and you see that I am blubbering. Don't worry. Chances are nobody died. I probably just heard a good praise song on the radio. (I can't worship without crying either. I've learned to accept it. You should too.)

So ... back to my small group.
I realized pretty quickly there was no way to deny the request of my pastor's wife.

So I prayed.
Out loud.
In front of people.

Did I cry? You betcha. But it wasn't awful. I wasn't sobbing or anything. It wasn't an ugly cry. And people got up to leave just like normal. No one whispered or pointed so I'm guessing they weren't horrified by my efforts.

This should be the part of the post where I say how happy I am to have conquered that fear. How thrilled I am to be free of that yoke of oppression on my prayer life. How eager I am to start interceding for anyone who might ask.



Seriously. Do you people even know me?