Armpit Prayer

Benjamin has such a sweet disposition. So his crankiness this week has been out of character. He has been fighting a cold, so to help comfort him I have been spending a lot of time in the Lazy Boy. As we settle in for a rocking session, he nestles into the crook of my elbow, comfortably positions himself within the softest blanket I can find, and promptly inserts his right fist under my left armpit.

Now, this would have taken me by surprise and seemed a bit odd had I not had a friend whose eight year old son did the same thing as an infant. There must be something comforting to babies about that intimacy, and maybe even the pheremones that eminate from the glands under the arm. Consequently, any quiet time I get lately is spent with a fist under my armpit.

As we were rocking the other evening, I was praying and began thinking about prayer itself. I have been a praying person for as long as I can remember. But somehow I have often felt guilty making all the requests that I do, as if I need to be giving something to Him in exchange for what I ask. But what can I give God?

It's natural that I think of this in terms of the boys now, since to them we are their provider, sustainer, comforter, their god in a sense. So I asked myself, "What is it I would want from them?"

The answer has been brewing in my thoughts all week and I think it has to do with intimacy. Just like how I love it that Benjamin wants to be so close to me that he sticks his fist under my arm. It thrills me that he kicks his legs in excitement when he recognizes my presence. And I know Matt's heart sings when Joseph talks to him in all his extravagant baby language, even though it doesn't make a bit of sense.

God is our loving parent and His love is unconditional. I don't think there is anything I can say or do to cause Him to answer a prayer a certain way. But I can present my requests, delight in His presence, and trust that He is supremely good and has only my best interest at heart.