When Queen Esther prayed, she addressed the God of…
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob! Somebody very special taught us to call this same God, “Our Father.”
My dad liked eggs. On weekends, he liked to cook breakfast.
“Dad, scramble me a coupla eggs, please.”
Then he hands me a plate with a live Palestine yellow scorpion on it, which proceeds to sting me and put me into a coma.
No. Not likely.
Maybe sometimes we pray and beg and plead, and, instead of the nice loaf of bread for which we hoped, the next day brings something that looks like an un-chewable stone.
“Lord, I asked for the promotion, and prayed to my heavenly Father. Then the boss walked in and gave me more work, no raise, and a lot of grief. How am I supposed to chew this particular piece of bread, O Provident One?”
The Son of God says:
Trusting means chewing what’s on the plate. It may look like a serpent; it may look like a stone; it may look like a disgusting plate full of brussels sprouts or boiled okra. In fact, it is nutritious and even delicious. Once we chew and digest what the heavenly Father serves up, we grow stronger and healthier.
Lord, send us Your Spirit. And then we will be able to handle whatever comes.
…PS. Speaking of fathers, don’t forget that March belongs to St. Joseph!