Thoughts on prayer and doors and paths less traveled

For the last few days, I have been preparing to teach a lesson about prayer to the women in my local congregation.  I don't normally teach the women in my church, I actually offered to substitute because one of our regular teachers was asked to go help with the youth, and the leaders were scrambling to find a different teacher.  

If I had looked at the lesson before I said I'd teach it, I may have been a little less willing.  Don't get me wrong, I have a strong testimony of prayer, but that testimony is driven by some very strong memories and emotions, and I am unsure of how well I will be able to teach through those emotions.  As I have read through the scriptures and quotes for the lesson, one of my favorite things is a poem, which I plan to share with the class.  I will have to have someone else read it, because I can't even read it on paper without crying. I love words, I love poetry, and this captures my testimony of prayer in fewer words than I could have done on my own.  (Clearly, I am not a person of few words...)

I know not by what methods rare,

But this I know, God answers prayer.

I know that He has given His word,

Which tells me prayer is always heard,

And will be answered, soon or late.

And so I pray and calmly wait.

I know not if the blessing sought

Will come in just the way I thought;

But leave my prayers with Him alone,

Whose will is wiser than my own,

Assured that He will grant my quest,

Or send some answer far more blest.

As I have thought about the last stanza, I have mentally placed it alongside the lovely saying from The Sound of Music: "When the Lord closes a door, somewhere he opens a window."  I remember that when I first heard the saying "somewhere he opens a window" I thought a window didn't seem like a good alternative to a door.  Windows mostly aren't intended as an entrance, just an emergency exit.  Windows are smaller, more awkward, not as good an option as a door for going in and out.  I have begun to think to myself that when he closes a door, somewhere he opens another one, a better one, an option we ordinarily would not have taken.  I have even said out loud "When the Lord closes a door, somewhere he opens a bigger one."  However, sometimes the door isn't bigger, and it isn't obvious, and it sometimes takes a while for us to find it.  Perhaps that's why the author of the saying chose a window...it's an option we don't normally consider, an option that really only became an option once the door closed and we had to find something else.  I think, though, that the Lord presents us with paths, with rooms, with journeys that we would not choose for ourselves, with new doorways and new opportunities that are better for us than what we would have chosen for ourselves, and sometimes it might be a window, but sometimes it might be another better door that we just don't want to see because we are too focused on the one that closed to see that another door is available to us.

I have also thought about the Robert Frost poem "The Road Not Taken."  

Robert Frost (1874–1963)

1. The Road Not Taken

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth;         5   Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same,         10   And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.         15   I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.         20

I know that Gideon's passing was a door closed.  I prayed for him to live, and I prayed for him to have a miracle, and hundreds of people prayed with me.  How can I still have a testimony of prayer?  I have a huge amount of trust in God, and when I look for His hand, I can see it.  I still believe that Gideon's life was a miracle.  All life is, really, and I have four beautiful healthy miracle children with me.  Gideon's body was so messed up, so young to be born, it was a miracle that he lived for a week, and I truly believe that the week we had was an answer to the prayers of those hundreds of people.  I prayed that my children would be able to see their baby brother, so they'd have some memory of him, and that prayer was answered.  He won't answer every prayer in the way we expect Him to,  but he will answer them.  I have had to take a path less traveled over these last few months, most people have not had to experience the loss of a child. And I can look back and sigh and see how much of a difference it has made in my life.  I can see the depth of love I have for my children and husband has increased, I can see my children praying to be good people every day, so they can be in Heaven with Gideon one day, I have had a new perspective on things in life, and am able to see "the small stuff" for what it is...and not sweat it.  My life has been harder since this path less traveled, but it has made all the difference.  I am a better person for it.  I traveled it not because I chose to travel it, but because the other path just wasn't available at the time.  I am so glad that I have kept travelling though, because the things I am seeing along this journey are amazing and beautiful, and are helping me to live my life and love more fully.  Referencing the first poem, it doesn't always feel like it's the "answer far more blest" that Gideon passed instead of lived, but I can see the blessings it has opened up in my life, and I am very grateful for those.

Prayer works, just not always in the way we think it will, sometimes it sends us through other doors and down other paths, and it makes all the difference.