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Whenever I want to laugh, I read a wonderful book, 'Children's Letters to God.' You can open it anywhere. One I read recently said, 'Dear God, thank you for the baby brother, but what I prayed for was a puppy.'
I prayed for twenty years but received no answer until I prayed with my legs.
I was living an extremely burdensome life, because every time I prayed, I became more clearly aware of my faults. On the one hand, God was calling me. On the other, I was following the way of the world. Doing what God wanted made me happy; but I felt bound by the things of this world.
While others prayed for the good time coming, I worked for it.
The guilt I felt for having a mental illness was horrible. I prayed for a broken bone that would heal in six weeks. But that never happened. I was cursed with an illness that nobody could see and nobody knew much about.
I prayed, thanking God, for making it all possible for me, because I knew where I came from.
Vexed sailors cursed the rain, for which poor shepherds prayed in vain.
I didn't go to church, I didn't go to synagogue; I went to temple, Hindu temple, where I prayed to my Hindu gods - whether or not I believe in it is another story.
When I prayed for success, I forgot to ask for sound sleep and good digestion.
Most of us have hoped and prayed for something to happen a certain way, but it didn't. And when this happened, we had a choice to make: to react with offense toward God or to trust Him anyway.
