Y'all,
I don't remember if this was sent out
yet or not. If it had I am sorry.
John
---
GreenHorn(Phase 2)
Royal Ranger Leader May 96
Heaven Bound
Saved Sinc March 94
A Simple Prayer, by Peggy Porter
My son Gilbert was eight years old and had been in
Cub Scouts only a short time. During one of his
meetings he was handed a sheet of paper, a block
of wood and four tires and told to return home and
give all to "Dad." That was not an easy task for
Gilbert to do. Dad was not receptive to doing things
with his son. But Gilbert tried. Dad read the paper
and scoffed at the idea of making a pine wood
derby car with his young, eager son. The block of
wood remained untouched as the weeks passed.
Finally, Mom stepped in to see if I could figure this all
out. The project began. Having no carpentry skills, I
decided it would be best if I simply read the directions
and let Gilbert do the work. And he did. I read aloud
the measurements, the rules of what we could do
and what we couldn't do. Within days his block of
wood was turning into a pinewood derby car. A
little lopsided, but looking great (at least through the
eyes of Mom). Gilbert had not seen any of the other
kids cars and was feeling pretty proud of his "Blue
Lightning," the pride that comes with knowing you
did something on your own. Then the big night came.
With his blue pinewood derby in his hand and pride
in his heart we headed to the big race. Once there
my little one's pride turned to humility. Gilbert's car
was obviously the only car made entirely on his own.
All the other cars were a father-son partnership, with
cool paint jobs and sleek body styles made for speed.
A few of the boys giggled as they looked at Gilbert's,
lopsided, wobbly, unattractive vehicle. To add to the
humility Gilbert was the only boy without a man at his
side. A couple of the boys who were from single
parent homes at least had an uncle or grandfather by
their side, Gilbert had "Mom." As the race began it
was done in elimination fashion. You kept racing
as long as you were the winner. One by one the
cars raced down the finely sanded ramp. Finally it
was between Gilbert and the sleekest, fastest
looking car there. As the last race was about to
begin, my wide-eyed, shy eight year old ask if they
could stop the race for a minute, because he wanted
to pray. The race stopped. Gilbert hit his knees
clutching his funny looking block of wood between
his hands. With a wrinkled brow he set to converse
with his Father. He prayed in earnest for a very long
minute and a half. Then he stood, smile on his face
and announced, 'Okay, I am ready." As the crowd
cheered, a boy named Tommy stood with his father
as their car sped down the ramp. Gilbert stood with
his Father within his heart and watched his block of
wood wobble down the ramp with surprisingly great
speed and rushed over the finish line a fraction of a second
before Tommy's car Gilbert leaped into the air with a
loud "Thank you" as the crowd roared in approval.
The Scout Master came up to Gilbert with
microphone in hand and asked the obvious question,
"So you prayed to win, huh, Gilbert?" To which my
young son answered, "Oh, no sir. That wouldn't be
fair to ask God to help me beat someone else. I just
asked Him to make it so I don't cry when I lose."
Children seem to have a wisdom far beyond us.
Gilbert didn't ask God to win the race, he didn't ask
God to fix the out come, Gilbert asked God to
give him strength in the outcome. When Gilbert first
saw the other cars he didn't cry out to God, "No fair
they had a fathers help." No, he went to his Father
for strength. Perhaps we spend too much of our prayer
time asking God to rig the race, to make us number
one, or too much time asking God to remove us from
the struggle, when we should be seeking God's
strength to get through the struggle. "I can do
everything through Him who gives me strength.
" Philippians 4:13" Gilbert's simple prayer spoke
volumes to those present that night. He never
doubted that God would indeed answer his request. He didn't
pray to win, thus hurt someone else, he prayed that
God supply the grace to lose with dignity. Gilbert, by
his stopping the race to speak to his Father also
showed the crowd that he wasn't there without a
"dad," but his Father was most definitely there with
him. Yes, Gilbert walked away a winner that night,
with his Father at his side.
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