Faith Without Works Is Dead - Where Prayer Comes In

A good atheist friend of mine had a quote recently that read something like, "Two hands working will accomplish more good than a thousand hands clasped in prayer." There is a good bit of truth to this, after all, "Faith without works is dead." (James 2:14) We can't merely sit around praying, and expect that the world is going to get better. God wants us to do it. And do it with the skills that each individual has been given. (Romans 12:3-8)

My question is, however, what do you do with the time when you're not doing any work? Surely there will be times when you stop - to eat, sleep, use the restroom, or just stop to look around at what you've done/you're doing - the fence you've put up; the building you're restoring; the roof that has just been repaired. At some point, your two hands, and your neighbors two hands are going to stop working. This isn't a discredit, we all need to take a break every now-and-then. Even Jesus did it. The question is, what will you do in between?

Personally, I pray before, during, and after the work is done - with the hope that what I am doing will accomplish great good, and that the discernment I will receive - about what to do in a certain situation, and how to go about doing it - will be clear, and will be valid. Will it accomplish getting what needs to be done, done for me? Probably not. I recognize that if I want a house to be build on rock, and not sand, I need to do it, and I need to be aware of my own surroundings. However, praying is something I do in the meantime, for I guess if nothing else, as a way of keeping my mind focused on the task at hand. And to keep me from worrying non-stop, because I tend to do that a lot.

So for me, praying is an ongoing thing, in combination with whatever work I am involved in.

Not To Everyone; Just my Beloved.

i went searching for a long time, and when i finally found what i was looking for - i decided i should probably keep it...because dreams don't come true for everyone. and i'm certain you're not everyone either - which is why i'd like to keep you around. i will run, run, run into your hands the next time i run into you. and this time, it's a promise.

of the things i remember most, i remember sitting at the desk in my parents' house, extra late at night, waiting for you to write me something sweet before going to bed.

i'm still pretty sure i'm waiting. but this time, it's for you to come home; the sweet sound of the door unlocking - and you coming in on your own.