I pray at the kitchen sink more than anywhere else.
I think it’s something to do with the soothing warm water and the fact that washing dishes is a focused task. Compared to, say, cleaning up the living room, which has me rabbit trailing between toys and books and the old carpet stain I keep meaning to re-treat and the nagging reminder from an overstuffed basket that I need to sort through the mail.
At the kitchen sink there are only dishes and soap suds and my thoughts.
Late at night while the household sleeps I straggle into the kitchen between cleaning up and bedtime to find peace in a sink full of waiting dishes. And before I know it I am turning over more than cups; I am sharing what I find in the back of my mind with the God who meets me in my unconventional kitchen.
So it is that as I rinse my bright red frying pan I find myself praying desperate dreams for the future
I pray for what I want, but rarely for what I have.
Until I was recently reminded of this verse:
“Ask rain from the LORD in the season of the spring rain, from the LORD who makes the storm clouds, and he will give them showers of rain . . . .” Zechariah 10:1 (ESV).
In the season of rain, pray for rain.
And suddenly it’s New Year’s Eve 1999, and I’m back on a dry game farm in Zimbabwe surrounded by farmers who haven’t seen decent rain in months.
***To keep reading, please click here. I am sharing this story over with the (In) Courage community today. I’d love if you would meet me there.***