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Vanzant - Every Day I Pray

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Vanzant Every Day I Pray
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CONTENTS This book is dedicated to the memory of my sister Her Royal Highness - photo 1
CONTENTS This book is dedicated
to the memory of my sister
Her Royal Highness Leola Iyalu Oredola Opeodu
and to my stepmother and best friend,
Lynnette May Brown Harris ACKNOWLEDGMENTS I would like to acknowledge my prayer partners and supporters, those who have consistently reminded me to pray and engaged in many hours of prayer with me or for me: Rev. Shaheerah Stephens, Rev. Raina Bundy, Rev. Barbara King, Rev.

Helen Carey, Rev. Johnnie Coleman, Rev. Michael Beckwith, Rev. Linda Hollies, Rev. Roger Teel, Rev. Mary Mann Morrisey, Rev.

Jeremiah Wright, Sarah Porter, Vivian Berryhill, Rev. Chester Berryhill, Wilhelmina Myrie, Elvia Myrie, Ken and Rene Kizer, Norman L. Frye, Bernadette Griggs; my sacred sisters Hilda Boulware, Cheryl McDowell, Jennifer Sackett and Libby Dubin; Stanley and Chemin Bernard, Drs. Ron and Mary Hulnick, Drs. Gay and Kathlyn Hendricks, Dr. Naim Akbar, Suzie Ormond, the Inner Visions Worldwide faculty and staff, the class of 2001 of the University of Santa Monica and all of those whose names I do not know.

In bringing this book to life I would like to express my deepest gratitude to my editor, Trish Todd, whose patience and support is truly an answer to a prayer; my photographer, Christina Lessa, and her assistant, Dan Petrucelli; Zully Zurheide; my children Damon, Alex, Gemmia and Nisa, who continually give me things to pray about; my grandchildren Ashole, Oluwa, Niamoja, Adesola and David, who shaped my prayers into songs of thanksgiving; my husband, Adeyemi Bandele, and my very dear friend Marjorie Battle, whose presence in my life is evidence that things go better with prayer. I grew up in the Holiness Church, where prayer was an event. On Sunday mornings, for as far back as I can remember, I watched one minister or another lead prayer. He always started out slowly, standing erect, his eyes closed and head bowed. Gradually the tempo changed. The pastor would take off his glasses and reach for the handkerchief in his pocket.

Just about then, the organist would begin to play deep chords to accent certain words. This prompted the human chorus of humming, clapping, stomping and sometimes moaning. The pastor would start to sweat as the cadence of his speech changed. He was sort of singing, sort of talking. The organist kept pace with more chords, now accompanied by drums and an occasional tambourine. Soon most of the people in the church were on their feet, talking back to the pastor, helping him out with Amens and Glory Fathers, being driven to a feverish pitch by the Thank-Yous and Hallelujahs being shouted out from every corner of the sanctuary.

Prayer in the Holiness Church was an amazing, sometimes frightening, event for a child to witness. The energy that was revved up from the sanctuary certainly amazed me and made a lasting impression. Although I could barely understand a word the pastor was saying over the organ and the human orchestra, I knew something powerful was taking place. Sometimes I clapped because everyone else was clapping. Other times I clapped because I was afraid not to. I was afraid that if I did not clap, if I just sat there watching, God would think I didnt love him.

God would think I didnt know how to pray to him. The conclusion I came away with was that I didnt know how to pray at all. Many years after I left the church that conclusion was still fresh in my mind. Sure, I knew all of the childhood prayers I uttered on my knees at the side of my bed. Many years of Sunday-school attendance had etched certain Psalms and rote prayers into the fibers of my brain. However, somewhere deep inside of me, I had the secret belief that I did not know how to pray, and that frightened me.

Im not sure where I heard it or why I believed it, but when I was in my mid-twenties a few words changed my approach to and experience of prayer. The words were these: Every thought you think is a prayer. Every word you speak is a prayer. Every act in which you engage is a prayer, because the Spirit of God lives in you. Now, how awesome is that? I didnt need drums. I didnt need to clap.

I didnt need a host of other people to help me raise the volume of my prayers so that God would hear them. If the words of that statement are true, and I do believe they are, it means that at every moment of every day, I am communicating with the Creator of the universe. While this is not the prayer of the Holiness Church, I still find prayer to be both amazing and frightening. It is amazing because it means that God knows me from the inside out. It is frightening because some of my thoughts, words and actions are not things I would want to lay in Gods lap for sanctioning. I realize that if God were to in fact put the power of his/her presence on some of the things that have been in my mind, I would be a hazard to myself.

Thank God for divine wisdom, and thank God for grace. Once I got it straight, I realized that the essence, energy, power and presence of God is in fact housed at the core of my being. I also understood that God does in fact hear my every thought and word. His/her response shows up as my experiences, my feelings and the many divine inspirations that have shaped the course of my life. I do believe that prayer is an inner communion with the divine. This means that when I am consciously participating in the communion amazing things can, will and do happen.

In fact, they happen all of the time. However, my first challenge was learning to remain consciously involved in what I was thinking and saying so that I could be actively engaged in the process of communing with my Creator. This engagement would also help me to recognize the answer to the prayer when it showed up. Scripture tells us to Pray without ceasing, to honor God in all of our ways so that s/he can direct our paths. In essence I have learned that I must talk to God, commune with God, stay conscious of Gods presence within me at all times. It is through this understanding and desire that I have grown to love prayer.

I sometimes jokingly say that I pray about everything, including what to wear and what to eat. In some ways the joke is very true. My thoughts are consistently focused on what I believe will bring honor to the presence of the divine within me. At times I have long conversations with God. Sometimes I ask questions. I admit that there are also times when I let out my frustrations, fears and anxieties in less than honorable ways.

No matter what I pray about or how I pray about it, the result I always get is comfort. I find peace through prayer. Most important of all, I believe that I strengthen my connection to the almighty presence. Over the years, I have received hundreds of letters from people who believe, as I once did, that they do not know how to pray. They are seeking a formula. They are afraid not to pray and even more afraid not to pray right.

Remember: every thought, every word, every action is a prayer. If we can remain mindful of that, focusing our attention on honoring Gods presence in everything and everyone, prayer will become as natural as breathing. If we can surrender, give up the need to do it right, by focusing on just doing it earnestly, honestly and with faith, our thoughts and words will be filled with Gods radiant essence. When we slip, when we forget to be honorable or faithful, grace steps in. She translates the words to find the deeper meaning. Along with her sisters faith and hope, grace shapes our thoughts and words so that we get exactly what we need, a response to our prayer that will help us grow inwardly.

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