Where I pray, and when, and why

My prayer life has gone through many permutations since I became a mom.  For a long while, all I was managing were quick prayer softballs lobbed at God at odd times: a little request while trundling down the freeway on my morning commute, say, or a brief expression of thanks while shaving my legs.  That immediate, spontaneous prayer was nice because it worked God into the very fabric of my daily routine.

But ultimately, it wasn’t enough.  I needed more.  And I’ve found a way to get it.

You can read all about it in my latest column: Be still, and know that I am God.

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