Over the past three months I’ve been struggling in my prayer life. I haven’t felt the presence of Holy Spirit in a very long time and I am not used to this.

Rather then dwell on it; I’ve redoubled my efforts by praying every opportunity I get. Furthermore, I returned to taking daily walks around the neighborhood, to not only get some fresh air and exercise, but to allow myself time to think.

For me, thinking is a form of prayer – depending on what I might be in thought over. I generally don’t have a specific subject in mind, instead I simply let go and mull over whatever randomly pops into my noggin.

During a recent walk I was summing up the human condition, “People have been stupid since before Noah hung up his hammer to become a sailor — and I’m no different.”

As I finished the thought, I noticed a woman walking a dog on one of those long-lead training leashes. Upon seeing me, the dog ran half way into the street trying to get over to where I was walking.

“Noah!” she shouted at the dog, “Get back here!”

My heart skipped a beat at the realization that God had to be listening to me. I couldn’t help but look up and quip, “Out of everything I’ve said — that’s what you decide to respond to?”

It’s also hard not to notice that ‘dog’ spelled backwards is ‘god.’ Sometimes I find His sense of humor more than a little dry.


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