Years ago I taught a Sunday school class of 3 to 5-year-old children. One of my favorite memories is attached to a boy named Eric. Nearing the end of class, I always asked if anyone had a prayer request. Eric always had a prayer request, and it was always for himself. He never failed to have pain somewhere in his body, and as he shared about his pain, it began to travel.
“I have a headache.” Eric would say.
“Okay Eric, we will pray for your head.” I replied.
“And a stomach-ache,” Eric added.
I assured him we would also pray for his stomach.
“And my ankle kinda hurts.”
“My knee feels funny.”
“And my back is sore.”
“My wrist hurts when I move it this way.”
Finally I would gently interrupt to let him know we would pray for his entire body.
Eric’s classmates would encircle him, laying their hands on him while I prayed for his list of ailments. Eric would interrupt mid-prayer to make sure I didn’t forget anything. After the “amen,” he was satisfied. In fact, we had our very own miracle service each week. Eric experienced a miraculous recovery every single time. The minute our class was over he would be up and running until his parents came to take their healed boy home.
I wonder if there are times my prayers sound a bit like Eric’s. First I tell the Lord that I need this and that and the other thing. And by the way, this is wrong, that is not right, and things are not good at all. Like Eric’s wandering pain, my complaints never seem to end. I am praying like a 5-year-old. I am thankful for the Lord’s love and patience.
Eric is grown now, but I will never forget his 5-year-old self and his long list of prayer requests.
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