Personal Prayers

Not long ago, I had the privilege of taking a group of Australian exchange students on a nocturnal excursion to the desert in order to teach them...

8 min

Rabbi Lazer Brody

Posted on 07.04.21

Frenquently Asked Questions about Personal Prayers
      
Not long ago, I had the privilege of taking a group of Australian exchange students on a nocturnal excursion to the desert in order to teach them the fine art of personal prayer. We sat around our campfire enjoying the starry night, before we separated – each person to his or her own lovely spot – for an hour of personal prayer. Most of the group had never experienced personal prayer, so I let them fire away with questions. Here's what they asked:
 
1. Who is really capable of talking to God?
 
You are! (That's exactly what we've been talking about in the previous few pages.) If all the members of the mineral, plant, and animal kingdoms speak continually with God – despite the fact that their spiritual profiles are lower than the Divine soul of a human – you certainly can!
 
2. What do I talk about?
 
Anything that's on your mind – your worries, your preoccupations, your deliberations, and your hesitations – get them off your chest. Anything you'd discuss with a loving parent or an understanding best friend is good subject material for personal prayer.
 
3. Does God answer me?
 
Of course he does! There's not an atheist or agnostic in the world who has ever tried personal prayer, because if they did – sincerely – they wouldn't be atheists or agnostics any more! When you spill your heart out to the Almighty, telling Him your worries and your problems, oftentimes a sudden spark lights up your brain with an amazing solution or suggestion you hadn't thought of previously. If that little spark imparts glowing warmth on your heart, congratulations! You've just received a personal message from God.
 
Sometimes God answers immediately, like in the case of another two of Old Isaac's guests, Rodney and Judy:
 
Rodney and Judy
 
A few years ago, Rodney Hart, a computer programmer from San Francisco, came to Old Isaac's Inn for the first time. Rodney seemed to have just about everything in life – a good career with a substantial income, his own condo in a desirable area, good health, a nice appearance, and a cordial personality. He was in his mid-thirties at the time.
 
One evening at sundown, at the time when Isaac sits on the front porch drinking his herb tea and watching the sunset, Rodney sheepishly approached and asked, "D-do y-you mind if I join you, Isaac?"
 
"Please, Rodney, by all means! I'd be delighted to share your company."
 
Old Isaac is an unbelievable spiritual catalyst. People pour their hearts out to him, and Rodney was no exception. "Isaac, I've dated loads of girls in my time. I want to get married, but I can't seem to find the right person."
 
"Hmmm," Isaac nodded, looking out in the distance with his piercing hazel eyes, "what have you done about this problem, Rodney?"
 
"I've tried singles clubs, computer dating, and even professional matchmakers. One woman has a great personality, but she's too fat. Another one is attractive, but she doesn't stop talking. A third – who's both personable and good-looking – doesn't want to give up her career, which demands excessive traveling. Every girl I go out with is like a short blanket – if I cover my head, my feet protrude, and if I cover my feet, my head sticks out – there's always some deficiency. I know I'm not perfect, Isaac, but all I need is somebody who's right for me!"
 
"You know, Rodney, when an embryo is only forty days old within the mother's womb, a voice from Heaven declares, 'the son of so-and-so shall marry the daughter of so-and-so.' The future Mrs. Rodney Hart is waiting for you to find her. Have you ever tried asking God to help you find your mate?"
 
"I'm not a churchgoer, Isaac."
 
"Who needs a church to talk to God? C'mon, let's go!" Old Isaac raised himself slowly from his straw rocker, and stretched his arms and back. The sun disappeared in the west, and a cool breeze began blowing from the north. "You and I are going for a walk before dinner."
 
"Where to?"
 
"To the apple orchard; it's not far from here, but you can yell at the top of your lungs, and no one will hear you."
 
Rodney was perplexed. Isaac was already down the stairs of the front porch and on his way to the orchard. Rodney, physically fit and thirty-five, was scurrying to catch up with Old Isaac's brisk walking pace. "W-What do I need to be yelling at the top of my lungs for?"
 
"You're thirty-five and single! Some people your age have nine children already! You need to be pouring your heart and your eyes out to God, that He should have compassion for you and help you find your bride."
 
"Isaac, does this really work?"
 
"What have you got to lose, an hour of your time? Meanwhile, enjoy the surroundings. Feel how the Almighty is all around us. Can a painter paint such beauty? Try and make a connection with God. He's your Father, Rodney – He loves you and cares about you. Now, with that in mind, go up to that orchard," Isaac pointed to a hillock about two hundred yards ahead, surrounded on both sides by the forest. "Yell your heart out for an hour – not a minute less. I'll be waiting for you right here."
 
Later, Rodney reported that he felt like an idiot at first, standing alone among the apple trees. He mumbled a few words to himself, and then felt even more ridiculous. He looked up at the sky, and the first stars were assuming their respective positions in the Heavenly honor guard. A whippoorwill sang its twilight melody from the adjacent forest, prancing up and down three octaves in one short lovely whistle. It seemed to Rodney that the bird was saying, "You can, too!"
 
"Yes, I can!" yelled Rodney, answering the whippoorwill. He decided to give Isaac's advice a try. "G-God, this is Rodney; Rodney Hart. I don't know anything about religion. Having met Isaac, I'd like to get to know You better. Isaac promised that You'd listen to whatever I have to say…"
 
Years of pent-up emotions flowed forth from the depth of Rodney's soul like a break in the Hoover Dam. He pleaded with God, requesting not only a wife, but many other answers to life's dilemmas as well. An hour later, exhausted, he returned to Isaac.
 
Isaac took one look at Rodney and said, "You've just discovered your soul, Rodney. Neither Microsoft nor IBM designed our spiritual anatomy. Therefore, to maintain your spiritual health, you have to plug in with God from time to time. You should see how your eyes are shining – after only one session in the orchard!"
 
While Rodney Hart was pouring his heart out in Isaac's apple orchard, back at San Francisco International Airport, Judy Sanders waited impatiently at the end of a long line. The queue to check in for the day's last scheduled flight to Denver was nearly as long as a football field. Judy was impatient; she longed for this vacation, eagerly anticipating a few days of hiking and relaxation in the mountains around the Boulder area. Finally, she reached the check-in counter.
 
"I'm really sorry, Miss Sanders, but this flight is overbooked. I'm afraid you won't be able to board."
 
"But I have a confirmed reservation!" protested Judy.
 
"I'll tell you what," said the ground stewardess, "the airline will pay for your hotel tonight, and we'll put you on the 6:30 a.m. flight tomorrow morning."
 
Judy sighed deeply, and then shrugged her shoulders. "I don't want to sleep in San Francisco tonight. I was looking forward to sleeping in the mountains. Do you have any other flights tonight in the vicinity of the Rockies?"
 
"As a matter of fact, we do! If you'd like, for the same price of your ticket, I can put you on a flight to Peaceville, not far from Mount Patience, which makes one stop in Riverton. Have you ever been to Mount Patience?"
 
"I'm sorry to say that I haven't," answered Judy.
 
"Then here's your chance," said the ground stewardess. "There are plenty of inns and hotels, and folks there are more than friendly. Mount Patience and its surroundings make Switzerland look like a rock pile. You'll love it. You don't even need to rent a car in Peaceville. All sorts of shuttle vehicles will take you wherever you need to go."
 
"That's great! I'm going to Peaceville."
 
The ground stewardess attached luggage tags to Judy's gear, and issued her a new ticket and boarding pass. "Run to Gate 15 – they're boarding in ten minutes. Have a good flight!"
 
"Thanks so much," giggled Judy. She was never so happy to be bumped off a flight. She had a wonderful feeling that something very special was in store for her.
 
* * *
 
A few minutes before midnight, Judy reached Peaceville. Exhausted, she checked in for the night at a motel nearby the airport. Her room had a mountain view, and before going to sleep, she filled her lungs with the crisp mountain air. The sky was so clear that she thought she could have plucked stars with her eyebrow tweezers.
 
After breakfast the next morning, she described to the desk clerk more or less what she was looking for – hiking, relaxation, beautiful surroundings, and a quaint country-style atmosphere.
 
"We've got a lot of places in these parts that fill your bill, Ma'am. Is this your first time in this area?"
 
"Yes sir, it is."
 
"Would you like something off the beaten path?"
 
"I think I would," answered Judy.
 
"In an hour, there's a shuttle bus that goes up to Liberty Springs. On the way, about thirty minutes from here, you go by Mount Patience and Peace Valley. There's a small inn operated by an old European couple that's the most charming place you can imagine. Folks call it Old Isaac's Inn, and it's inexpensive but really nice. You'll love it."
 
"Sounds wonderful; can you call ahead and make a five-day reservation for me? I'll also need a place on the Liberty Springs shuttle, please."
 
"Consider it done, Ma'am!"
 
Two hours later, Judy Sanders arrived at the inn. Isaac greeted her at the front steps and grabbed her luggage. Rebecca sat her down at a lace-covered hewn oak table and served her fresh-baked oatmeal cookies and cinnamon apple tea. Judy was enchanted, as if in a wonderland.
 
While she sipped her tea, Rodney entered the dining room. "Judy – Judy Sanders – Is that really you?" Judy's older sister was in Rodney's class at high school, and their parents lived right around the block from each other.
 
"Yes it's me, Rodney Hart!"
 
"Where've you been all these years? What're you doing here? How did you…"
 
"Hold your horses, first things first! After nursing school, I spent a few years in the Peace Corps in Peru. Now, I'm a surgical nurse at Frisco General. I was supposed to be in Boulder, but I got bumped off my flight and I decided to come here."
 
"Of all places!"
 
Rebecca diplomatically tiptoed back to the kitchen, where Isaac was peeling potatoes.
 
"Isaac," she smiled lovingly, "it's another match."
 
"I know, Rebecca; we'll probably be toasting them before the week's over…"
 
Rebecca and Isaac were correct. For the next five days, Judy and Rodney were inseparable. They loved each other's company, and their personalities complemented one another beautifully. The night before they checked out, they walked hand-in-hand into the kitchen, where Isaac and Rebecca were washing the dinner dishes. "Isaac, Rebecca, we want you two to be the first to know; Rodney and I are getting married!"
 
Rebecca caressed Judy and blessed her. Isaac embraced Rodney and wished him all the best. Isaac whispered in his ear, "Would you have ever believed how fast the Almighty juggled the entire world for you! Look at the succession of events that brought Judy here – a person would have to be deaf, dumb, and blind not to see the hand of the Almighty in this. That's the power of personal prayer; you spoke to God sincerely, and He moved mountains to bring Judy right here to you! Don't ever forget that, Rodney."
 
"I won't, Isaac. I promise."
 
To be continued . . .
 
 
(The Trail to Tranquility is available in the Breslev Store.)   

 

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