Forced to Pray

Before I left I was in a study with my dear friend Valerie. The topic was prayer. I have always had a hard time praying. I think it might be that God already knows what I’m going to say, or maybe that he knows everything about me and that makes me feel self conscience. Anyway I’ve never been good at it and thought that living in Africa for a year I might want to know how to pray.
Well God had a plan for me. I went through the study and not much changed except my knowledge of what prayer is. Since being here I have had ample chance to be forced to pray. Most of the services I go to are translated for me, but translation stops as soon as someone begins to pray. I am left on my own, with my head bowed thinking about life. Thanking God for who he is and what he has done. Burundians know how to pray. Their prayers can sometimes last forever, this has improved my own stamina. I now find myself chatting with the Lord when I’m walking or sitting alone in my room. The simplest issue or discussion comes up and there I am again in conversation with the Lord. I’m liking it. I don’t feel as lonely. I know at anytime I can just open my mouth or my thoughts to him and he is ready to listen. Sometimes I find myself just talking about how I’m feeling and others I find myself wrestling with him, either way I think he is enjoying this. Perhaps this is why he brought me to Africa.