I stand at the kitchen sink, washing kale for salad. Out the window, I can see my son shooting arrows across the backyard. He looses ten or twelve and then scampers out of sight to find them.
I dump the dirty water down the sink drain, and my vision shifts from beyond the window to the window itself. Little rectangles of paper line the window casing.
Each rectangle has a name on it. My eyes fall on the one that says, “PNC,” and I breathe a prayer for our church’s Pastor Nominating Committee. I pray that God would guide them, give them wisdom and discernment.
I shake out the wet kale leaves and pray for stamina and patience for the committee members.
As I slice the ribs off the kale, tear the leaves into small pieces, and toss them in our wooden salad bowl, I pray for agreement among these eight people who are looking for our next senior pastor.
Until recently, I struggled to actually pray for the people to whom I had pledged my prayers. It’s not that I didn’t want to pray for them, not that I wasn’t praying for other things (uh, mostly myself). All too often, I would just forget.
Then, almost two years ago, I started a prayer window…
