Praying My Life Away

Lately I cannot get prayer out of my head.

I walk though the house praying.
I go to bed and pray before I go to sleep.
I wake up in the middle of the night with a prayer in my head.
I open my eyes in the morning thinking I better get to praying.

So this morning, in the wee hours before daylight, I thought about all this prayer... that either there is something going on that I cannot see urging me to pray, or that I am just highly suspicious and somewhat doubtful of good intentions. If you know me at all, the last part would be very believable, but I can't help but think a target has been put on my family and there is no way I'm about to sit by idle waiting for it all to unfold.

And so I pray. I start at the top and go down to the youngest just like my grandma would do. Which brings me to another question.

My grandma would always pray for me. I was number twelve on her list of thirteen grandchildren. Believe me, I've heard her and I've counted. She would start with her firstborn that died way too early, go on to her oldest child to the youngest, start with the top of the grandchildren and work her way down, and moved on to her great and great-great grandchildren. Now with those, I don't think she called but a few of them by name (she had a lot), but she always, always, always prayed for the all the babies.

Salvation. Protection. Wisdom to stop doing something stupid.

I thought of her and the times I would hear her pray at night and the example she set before me. Which raised that question.

Who is praying for me now?