![]() Funny how we prioritize our prayerful moments.įunny, too I think, about how I learned two different versions of the Lord’s Prayer: one – the Protestant litany – spoke to “forgiving our debts as we forgive our debtors” the other – maybe a more traditional Catholic influenced version – substituted “forgive our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” The differences never much bothered me as I prayed less and sinned more into my teenage years, but later I got to thinking about it as I entered the bond market and began to contemplate the odds of paying and being paid, or trespassing and being trespassed against with other people’s money. Brenda was the neighbor’s bulldog but warranted a mention ahead of our own Stinky because – well – she didn’t smell. I recited the Lord’s Prayer, then followed it up with the standard “God Blesses” – in my case “God Bless Mommie, Daddie, Chip, Lyn, Mamie, Budgie, Brenda, Stinky and everyone in the whole world.” Stinky was my brother’s cat, so named because she used the house as her personal litter box in the days before my parents could buy one at the local “five and dime”. ![]() I do remember praying nightly as a child though, which might indicate that my mom and dad were better parents than I have given them credit for. It’s not that I’m a non-believer in prayer’s ultimate destination, but more of a cynical take on why the Lord would hand out party favors to everyone that asked, or to those that asked most intently. ![]() Even at 30,000 feet, when the air gets rough, I never invoke the “God” word, settling instead for promising myself that if I ever get back to terra firma, I will never fly again, which I promptly forget days or even hours later. I’m not what you would call a “prayerful” type of guy.
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