One of the bigger slices of humble pie we have to eat is that we don’t do nearly enough with the gifts we are given. Now this is humble pie, not condemnation pie. You’re not permitted to eat any cursed-on-a-tree pie. Jesus finished that one off for you.
But we do have to face up to the fact that prayer is a blessing and we do far too little with it. Here we are, with access to the One who spins Jupiter like a top and slings its many moons around in circles. We have the ear of the One who straps each and every calf muscle to its companion heel bone, tying them together with more Achilles tendons than any one man could count. This God breaks cedars and makes deer give birth. And He listens to us.
Jesus said to pray like that persistent widow. There is Margaret, purse in hand, she’s making her way to the judge’s chambers yet again. She was there yesterday, and the day before, and the day before. She will be back tomorrow if he doesn’t give up already. He’s getting tired of her visits.
How many blessings have we missed out on because we weren’t as steady in prayer as this widow? Like clockwork, she ate her toast, shoed her feet, and politely went off to remind a godless judge to avenge her of her adversary.We ask the Lord four or five times, and receiving no answer, start sleeping through the alarm clock. How many blessings could you have if you had a little more Mrs. Margaret in you? You do not have because you do not ask. “Really,” you say, “is it that simple?” Well, “ask, and it shall be given you; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.” But you have to knock like a stubborn ‘ole widow.