Late Night Talks.

Isaiah awakened me Saturday morning at 3. He was going mad with itching, so I groggily drew bath water for him, added oatmeal and let him soak the ivy into submission. By the time he was finished, and snugged back in his bed, I was staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. I turned my bedside lamp on intending to read until I got sleepy, and that's when I re-discovered my prayer beads. No, they hadn't been lost or misplaced; they'd been hanging from my bedside lamp since I had put them together a couple of years ago. The novelty of using them as a tool had worn off, and they just hung there, like so much frou-frou seen in decorating magazines.

I gazed at them for a few moments, remembering what each bead signified. Remembered sitting in a coffee shop with Meg, Johanna, and Elise, as we strung them on black leather cords. I felt a moment of pride as I realized that two years later I could still recall what each bead meant. Then the sadness came as I thought about how little time I spend in adoration, confession, thankfulness, intercession, and supplication to my Lord.

Carefully I took the strand from the lamp, feeling the textures and shapes of the beautiful glass. I began praying, running my fingers up the length of the cord, stopping at each bead; the blue/green one with a ragged edge that represents Joe, a translucent white cylinder with a star burst for Johanna, an interesting shaped green one with many textures for Niah, a drum shaped bead for Isaiah. My fingers traveled on to the oddly shaped red bead with many nooks and crannies that represent the friendships in our life....how very unique and different all our friends are from one another, yet how much we enjoy those differences. The long bead with stripes that represent each member of our extended family. Conversation began, and went long and deep. I loved and felt love.

I am convinced that I need to spend more time in conversation with God. When I wash the dishes I remember Tom and the way we talked over dishes last summer (the man can handle a dish wand like no other:) so I shall talk to God about him. As I chop cilantro I want to pray for the friend who loves the taste of cilantro. When I start a fire in the fireplace, I want to pray for my neighbor who helped us get the squirrel out of there last winter....for all the people who were convinced it was a kitten and were going to rescue it. When I see the clinique ad, I want to talk to God about my friend who works at their counter.

I crave conversation, and from what I understand, He craves it with me as well.