Fish or Cut Bait but Pray Either Way

Upon arriving in Fort Walton Beach, we called our hotel to see about checking in earlier. Our six-month old had been in the car seat about all she wanted. She wasn't fussy mind you, but she was not real happy. The hotel said no problem, and was again reminded by my wife, just like in the previous three phone calls, that we needed a baby bed. Just that morning as I prepared to pack the playpen she told me not to worry, the hotel had enough heads up and would it would be alright-so we didn't pack it. After we unloaded the car, I got in my brother and sister-in-law's vehicle to take my middle child to Dauphin Island. They look so close on the map. Well, the hotel failed, an epic fail. Not only did they not have one, their response was, "Sorry." So, the small room overlooking the tiny pool had no means of holding my 6 month old child to sleep, short of stacking pillows around her in the bed. For any who have traveled with a child, you know this is not acceptable. After a few heated exchanges with the hotel staff, my wife was able to get them to give back our money, which of course left us in the unenviable state of having nowhere to go. This was the Hampton Inn on Okaloosa Island, don't go there.

This occurred before we got out of Fort Walton Beach, but my sister-in-law came through in the clutch twice. First by calling a friend to see about borrowing a Pack and Play. She didn't have one, but called back not 45 seconds later to report that at her apartment complex someone had just set one by the dumpster. We were within a mile, drove up, checked it out, threw it in the trunk then continued on our way. There is nothing wrong with it, except that it smelled of salad dressing, until we Lysol-ed it. Second, she called a few other friends and finally got someone with ResortQuest. The cost was 50% more than the Hampton Inn that you should never go to, but the room itself was three times the size. It overlooks the pool and the Gulf, and the pool is easily six times the size of the Hampton Don't Go To Inn. In addition, there are 2 free DVD rentals per day, and a whole slew of other amenities that are free for one adult and one child.

Among these is a deep-sea fishing trip. Now, I grew up on a beach. Fort Walton Beach reminds me a great deal of Biloxi. There's the Gulf, the beach, a bay, an Air Force Base, lots of military people, and the glorious, wonderful, ever so welcome humidity (that my wife can't stand). I grew up with big families, spending great amounts of time at the library, at the beach, at the bay, fishing, swimming, boating, canoeing, rowing, sailing, and eating seafood that if you didn't catch you bought from the guy who did. As I tell my wife, if it smells like fish, it's too old to eat. Despite all this, I have never in my life been deep-sea fishing. Tomorrow my brother-in-law and I are going for essentially half-price.

Now, none of this has made any mention of prayers, but every one of these things are directly attributable to prayers. I have prayed about this trip many times before, and on the way down. I can't do anything without praying. I once prayed for a parking spot near the front of a casino, and parked right next to the door (I was taking my then 77 year-old grandmother to the restaurant for dinner). Providence has constantly put me where I was needed and this trip has been no exception. Let's see what today holds.

Poster Boy for Answered Prayers

Not long ago, I was involved in a regular Thursday Morning Men's Prayer Group. We met each Thursday at 6:30 and after about a half hour of prayer walked across the street to eat a biscuit. I still maintain that there is something scriptural, and sometimes ephiphany-revealing (is ephiphanical a word?) about eating together. For just one example see Luke 24:30. It became to me more important than Sunday School, and that was the hour that my preacher still calls the most important hour of the day. I started attending after telling my employer I would be late on Thursday mornings. Then I changed jobs, twice, and told my boss after accepting the job, "By the way, I'll be late on Thursday mornings." It was not a question, it was a statement.

About 5 years ago my marriage hit the roughest patch it ever has. We were fighting each other as much as ourselves. Or maybe it was just me. I moved into an apartment closer to where I worked, which was also about 40 miles from home and church. At this time I stopped attending the prayer group. Eventually, I found myself to be so miserable without my beloved Ginger that we reconciled and have had a wonderful marriage since. We have had a third child, now 6 months old, named Faith. I could not have picked a more appropriate name, though I did try. Scarlett Grace was the name I tried for because it is by the blood of Jesus I have received grace. In less than 3 months I will have been married for over half my life, yet I can barely remember a life without Ginger. This despite my anal retentive memory.

After the incident I did return to the prayer group. My current job is such that it doesn't allow a late arrival on Thursdays, yet, but I miss the men and the fellowship. Just this past Sunday I found out that the men of the group had agreed to pray for me during that time I was away. Not only on Thursday mornings, but whenever they thought of me. They prayed that I would be so miserable without my family that I would wake up and come to my senses.

Oftentimes we pray without knowing if it will do any good. Other times we don't pray and still get blessed. Most of the time when I pray the answer I receive looks nothing like the prayer I asked, but fills the prayer request better than I could have ever imagined. For most of my life I have considered myself a poster boy for answered prayers. So much so that I am afraid it sounds like I'm bragging about it at times. God answers prayers for you, whether you prayed them or not, whether you knew they were being prayed or not. Especially when you least expect it.