On my refrigerator, I have a scrap piece of paper that’s been around for months, maybe as long as a year. It started life near my coffeepot, then it moved to the window over my kitchen sink, then it was on my bathroom mirror for a while.
The one-line prayer is one that I know by heart, but which I still love dearly: Incline my heart according to your will, O God.
It’s on the refrigerator door right now because that’s where I need the reminder. It hits me as I consult my weekly menu, as I open it for a popsicle or to make chocolate milk or to pull dinner together.
Well, it used to hit me. I had forgotten about it for a while.
The other day, as I was closing my freezer, I tried (with no success) to straighten the pile of pictures and papers on the door. I rediscovered the scrap of paper, but it had something extra on it: If I take the wings of the dawn, if I settle at the furthest limits of the sea, even there you’ll guide me and your right hand shall hold me fast.
Who in the WORLD put that there? WHEN did they do it?
I have NO idea. Oh, a guess here or there, but those guesses don’t take into account what I know of those women’s handwriting (it was certainly a woman).
But do you think it’s any accident that I found this on the morning when I had prayed for a sign for a special little prayer I had?
Copyright 2010 Sarah Reinhard