Growing up, I was used to my parents saying "no." Now I live with them again and we play the fun game of saying "no" to each other. I try to be the Food Nazi; occasionally I get to be the teenager (at 46!) in this home. I recently spent the night with a girlfriend -- dog in tow, not a danger in sight -- but my dad told me the next day that we need to revisit the curfew discussion. We will decide if I am allowed to have overnight camps when I am 50.
There are times when God says "no." Frankly, we all should know that but we continue to bargain in prayer.
Please, God, make it right.
And of course, we mean right to us, at that moment, not necessarily right for our lives or His plan.
Most of us wait for some big, huge, life-altering sign from prayer. The odds are pretty good that we won't be the chosen one who gets the burning bush or the parting of the sea. In the quiet moments, we might get the realization that we're praying really hard for something and the answer is no.
One of my dad's favorite sayings is, "If you pray for a garden, you'd better grab a shovel."
There's also the folklore tale of the olden country village, stricken with drought and holding a revival for a rain dance. (Every oldie in the world has told this story. Movies have been made about it.) The rain comes at the end.
Nobody brought an umbrella.
