Nothing Too Small

The two missionaries, Alma and Amulek, first taught the apostate Zoramites about Christ, and then they turned their attention to the people's perverted method of prayer. Rather than repeat a rote and mean-spirited public prayer once a week, they taught the Zoramites to pray sincerely and often. Speaking of the topics appropriate for a sincere prayer, Amulek taught:

Cry unto him in your houses, yea, over all your household, both morning, mid-day, and evening. Yea, cry unto him against the power of your enemies. Yea, cry unto him against the devil, who is an enemy to all righteousness. Cry unto him over the crops of your fields, that ye may prosper in them. Cry over the flocks of your fields, that they may increase.
--Alma 34:21-25

Amulek's great discourse on prayer teaches that there is nothing too small, temporal, or mundane that we cannot pray about it and seek the Lord's blessing. When I think I have a problem too small to bother God about, I think of these verses. He is willing to help me in every aspect of my life. 

Does God want me to be hopelessly dependent? Ultimately, no. In the interim, however, while I am mired in mortality, Christ pleads with me to come unto Him, lean on Him, share His yoke, drink of His living water, let His light guide my feet, follow His example, learn of Him, and listen to His words. I am, in truth, in this life, hopelessly dependent on Christ. I can admit my true condition and take Him as my partner, or I can deny it and struggle through life alone. My mortal struggles don't change, but whether I face them alone or not is entirely up to me. 

Open the Universe

Jesus taught this amazing principle and promise about prayer in the Sermon on the Mount:

Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.
--Matthew 7:7-8

With this promise echoing in my mind, I know everything of God's is available to me. It's up to me, though, to take the first step. I must ask, seek, and knock. I must learn how to approach the Father, trust Him, listen to Him, have faith in Him, and accept His will. 

Sounds easy, right? Well, it's not so easy when God doesn't seem approachable in the middle of a hard day or a sleepless night, when worry is overpowering and pain is unrelenting. It can be hard to trust a Father who allows suffering and sorrow, who apparently wants to polish me with 100-grit sandpaper. His voice, if He is speaking at all, can hardly penetrate my thick skull and ears tuned more to the world's shouts for attention than to the gossamer whispers of the Holy Spirit. Faith - the anchor of the soul - threatens to break loose in the storms that spring up like winter gales and beat on me with no care for my stamina or energy. And the divine Will runs so counter to my earthly logic that it boggles me.  

As the pounding and pummeling of life continues, driving me to my knees when standing gets too hard, I think of the joke, "The beatings will continue until morale improves." I wonder, is that what God is doing to me? Is He beating me until I finally learn to believe His promise?

I believe He hears every prayer, even my casual, mundane daily invocations. But while I may be satisfied with vain repetitions, He is not. He wants more from me, and so He gives me more - more trials, more challenges, more troubles, more afflictions, more pain, more suffering - more of everything that strips me of my expectations of life and leaves me raw and vulnerable and, dare I say, humble. And when I finally cry in genuine need, in total despair - in honest prayer - He answers. He sends the Comforter. He gives strength where there was none. He fans an ember of hope that was all but dead. Another day dawns, and life goes on. And I'm still here.

If I can ever quit trying to do things my way and let Him do things His way, the universe will open to me.