It was close to the end of my shift, and as I was packing up my till to go count it, the consecutive beeps pierced through the drowsy bookstore to announce that someone important had something to say. As myriad of people in black polo's that covered the landscape of our small kingdom stood at attention to hear the instruction from the unseen voice.
"Can I have all the student employees to the main office. All student employees to the main office-"
The calm voice of the general manager ironically made my heart race a little bit. As is typical for most, and especially me, thoughts started racing through my mind about things I had done wrong. I wondered if he found out I used to shove things under my bed instead of really cleaning my room as a kid. The possibilities were endless as we started the long trek back to report.
To make a long story short, he had not found out about the bedroom cleaning menagerie. (Ps.. sorry mom..) It wasn't even about that time I was running late that week. Instead, he was asking for volunteers to pray in devotional. As the invitation deployed all kinds of avoidance oriented shifty eyes, I felt my hand go up. I felt like I was starting some kind of bidding at an auction. No one wanted to be first, but the ball will get rolling one way or another, I guess.
A few days passed and the assignment was in the back of my mind. I went back and forth between being nervous and excited at what seemed like light speed. I went from, "its just a prayer.. its not a big deal. Chill out kid." to "it is my responsibility to say what Christ would say if He was starting out that meeting, after all- I AM praying in His name. The success of this entire meeting and probably the entire universe is riding on my shoulders."
I will admit, I was a wee bit fidgety at work that day, and my shift seemed to drag on. But I felt pretty confident for the most part. Finally, it was time to take my place. I got up on the stand and enjoyed a little people watching and introduced myself to the speaker and a few other bigwigs on the stand: so far so good. I tried to make conversation with the kid sitting next to me who was to offer the closing prayer, and I would tell by his short answers and the way he was tirelessly wringing his hands, he wasn't exactly in a mental state for light conversation. I was feeling surprisingly cool for the situation at hand. But don't you worry they came.. the nerves. They didn't hit me until I sat down, and looked over at Brother Miasaki's notes for conducting the meeting. A cringing shock twisted up form my stomach and wrapped around my entire heart as I saw MY name on that list. Such an important looking document, with the letters J-A-M-I-E M-U-R-R-A-Y typed so neatly on it. What was little old me doing up here?? How did the vice president of the college get my name?
As we sang the opening song, my heart was pounding so much I worried that the microphone right in front of me would pick up and amplify the sound, and proclaim my nervousness to everyone in attendance. Was it silly to be praying for confidence to pray? Well, there is no fooling Heavenly Father. He already knows I am silly. So I prayed on.
I got up and said my quick prayer with heaven's comfort in my heart. It ended just as quickly as it began, and my heart slowly returned back to its regular pace. Simple as that.
But my reason in sharing this experience, was not to tell a funny story, or bring attention to the event.
Doing the simple service got me thinking.
Why does prayer really matter anyway? If it really was "just a prayer", why did they even bother with it anyway? Was I really speaking in the name of Christ? Does starting with a prayer really change the potential outcome of something? Why do we take it more seriously when we pray in front of people, than we do when we take one on one time with God?("To strengthen our relationship with God, we must spend quality time alone with Him. -Dieter F. Uchtdorf)
The truth of the matter is, it is never "just" prayer. We are never uttering "just" words to the Creator of All. Prayer is such a sacred privilege. I am so grateful for a God who will let me pray over "silly" things. A loving Father who knew I would be a worrier, and need to check in often. Because no matter the weight of the matter, I know He listens. I know He hears and answers prayers. I know it from the bottom of my silly heart. What a privilege it is to pray to Him. To know He lives. To feel of His love and comfort. But most of all, to know Him.
"Prayer is a supernal gift of our Father in Heaven to every soul. Think of it: the absolute Supreme Being, the most all-knowing, all-seeing, all-powerful personage, encourages you and me, as insignificant as we are, to converse with Him as our Father. Actually, because He knows how desperately we need His guidance, He commands, “Thou shalt pray vocally as well as in thy heart; yea, before the world as well as in secret, in public as well as in private.” -Richard G. Scott
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