Tonight, I simply start: “Another delightful night here on the porch, huh?” 

“It sure is,” my Lord answers after possibly lounging against the loveseat across from me. “Although, is it just Me or are there fewer bugs?” 

I take a long drag on my pipe, so I can listen to the woods beyond the screens. “No, unsurprisingly – I think You’re right, the orchestra seems quieter tonight.” I watch the smoke drift for a moment and add: “Still, I appreciate You keeping the heat on.” 

God laughs before saying, “Oh sure, I did that just for you; I know how much you are not looking forward to winter.” 

“That’s for certain. Still, I have started looking forward to these moments on the back porch, and You have to do a lot less convincing when it’s warm.” 

I’m certain there’s a wry wink before: “Like I said: Just for you, buddy.” 

With an understanding shake of my head, I say, “Well, here we sit in our usual spots, looking out at Your marvelous creation, and I look forward to seeing what topic sticks tonight.” 

“Well, that’s a change of pace; what happened to the prayer journey? I was looking forward to seeing what new knots you’d twisted yourself into.”

I can’t resist a chuckle before saying, “I couldn’t escape the reality of prayer as petition.” (See Reflection #2)

If my Lord had a pipe, He’d have just taken a draw with a slow exhale of smoke and a “huh.” Instead, He says, “Is that right?” 

Now, any student knows that’s a dangerous question from an instructor. It’s one-part general interest in the conclusion, but also, it’s equally one-part frustration at missing a point. 

Still, the student can only lean into the former, so I say, “Yeah, consider this: Even as I seek anything in addition to ‘prayer as petition,’ I make a petition for You to show me what I’m missing. Since I cannot escape that reality, I’ve decided simply to sit in it.” 

“Finally, you’re past your own noise; now, maybe we can get somewhere.” 

With a questioning eyebrow, I say, “What do You mean?” 

There’s a deep sigh before: “Dude, break it down. To make such a reduction as ‘the reality of prayer is petition,’ at least two things must be assumed. What are they?” 

A couple of slow draws on my pipe give me a moment to consider that question. I say, “I suppose ‘prayer as petition’ assumes someone making and someone hearing the petition.” 

“Yes, that’s a fine place to start. I think there might be at least one other key piece missing, but those two will definitely get us started.” 

A conflicted, anticipating silence fills the air. My Lord waits for me to dive into the first two, and I’m waiting for the missing one. We stare at each other for a good moment – each waiting on the other. 

“All right,” I say at last, “what am I missing?” 

“Oh, don’t worry about that. We’ll get there.” 

I shrug while tamping my pipe. “Yeah, but now I’m curious,” I say. 

“Nope, you said that I get to pick the topic, so you’re up.” 

I sigh with the disappointment of one unsolved mystery, and my pipe gets another lengthy draw to collect my thoughts. “All right, here goes: If a petition is made, there must be someone to make the request, since a petition cannot make itself.” 

“Then,” I continue, “it seems to me that a petition must be made to someone or something else. So, prayer as petition must assume those pieces.” 

Apparently, I’m not moving fast enough for my Instructor, because I hear: “Yeah, okay – let Me help you out here. You and I are talking about faithful prayer, so the sender and receiver is a bit more specific here, right?”

“Sure” says I. “That makes sense. Certainly, the petitions are not made into ether. Reminds me of I Kings 19.” (You can read all of 1 Kings 19: Here) 

“How do you figure?” 

“Well, there’s Elijah, who’s having a rough time. In this world, he surely qualifies as alone, so he goes to his source of comfort – That’s You, and he makes a simple request for confirmation about his path. Then, You pass by him on the mountain. If that doesn’t qualify as someone making a petition and You hearing it, I’m afraid I might have missed the whole point.” 

There’s a deep inhale with a rapid exhale; it’s the sound of a remembered battle from long ago. “Nope, that’s an excellent moment to recall,” says my Lord. “Yet, does that moment not strike you as fantastic?” 

I chuckle before saying: “That whole chapter strikes me as fantastic, so what part do You have in mind?” 

“Well, let Me put it this way: Every Sunday, you make the claim that I made Heaven and Earth, all things visible and invisible, right?” (link to the Nicene Creed) 

“By Your grace, I certainly do.” 

“Then, I would say that you have found something quite mysterious. Why would such a Creator [one of all things] have an interest in the affairs of the created? I Kings 19 not only claims that such a creator has an interest in the communities of the created but also in the individual members of those communities. I mean: Doesn’t it sound crazy to think that such a Creator would listen to a guy on a hillside – or a weirdo on his back porch for that matter?”

“When You put it that way, I suppose it does sound a mite-tick offbeat,” I say after a laugh. 

Another silence descends upon our conversation. This time with much less tension. Still, the division remains between Instructor and student, but neither is waiting on other. Rather, the student leans back to watch the parade of confirmations of that mystery. Confirmations from Scripture appear with all those people, who’ve made petitions to God, and even my own life joins the procession. Meanwhile, the Instructor happily watches as a glimpse of understanding possibly comes to the student.

Again, I break the silence: “So, what’s the missing piece?” 

I receive another headshake. This one presents a finality. I hear: “That’s enough for now; you couldn’t handle anything else tonight. Let’s just listen to the few remaining crickets while you finish that pipe.” 

“After all, there’s only one thing to do with a mystery: Live in it.”