Milkman

“…here’s John the milkman.”

Prodigal Daughter (Wayne Pascall)

What is the point of praying?

I mean, God knows everything, so why do I even need to say anything at all to God?

I have found myself asking this question, and answering it as well.

You see, God knows, but very often I do not.

Sometimes there are things that I am doing or thinking or experiencing and those things are not good, but in my depth of sin, I fail to understand the damage they are causing to me.  Being able to come to God and recentre my thoughts on Him allows me to express to Him all my thoughts and desires and problems – just as a little child would.

You see, when my children were babies, they would cry if they were hungry or sick or uncomfortable.  Most of the time I knew that they were hungry or sick or uncomfortable before I even heard the cry.  After all, when you care for children – especially very young children – you usually learn their patterns and routines and are able to accommodate those so that they can be comfortable.  This is because most experienced mothers will tell you that when their baby or child is comfortable, then everyone is comfortable…

And there is great humility in a baby telling their mother what they need when the mother already knows it.  The baby or child rarely goes to their mother and says, look, I am not going to say anything to you because you already know what is going on.  They tell their mother because they take comfort in their mother knowing what is happening with them and how they are feeling…

“And in praying do not heap up empty phrases as the Gentiles do; for they think that they will be heard for their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask Him.” (Matthew 6:7).

And in this Christ was not saying, talk less, He was saying, talk sincerely from your heart so that you leave room for God to answer…

I recently read a story about Saint Josemaria…  Each morning he would wait in the confessional in his Church.  And every morning, he would hear the church door slam open, some clanging metal and then the church door slamming closed.  Curious, he popped out to investigate one morning and found a milkman genuflecting and then preparing to leave.  He asked them man why he came in each morning and the man said, “Father, every morning I come up here, open the door … and say to Him, Jesus, here’s John the milkman.”

And this tory moved me as it moved Saint Josemaria.  For what love was in this milkman’s heart to pop in just to let God look at him, as he went about his day…

And today, I pray for the Grace to pop in and say, here’s Sarah, the milkman…”

For with prayer, I stand on Holy Ground where everything is clear. Here. At the Foot of the Cross.