These prayers were published by Baker Book House in 1978. Some of them will be repeated here for your benefit since the book is out of print. It was the fore-runner of Uncommon Prayers for Couples. It’s title was changed in the British version to Prayers Under Pressure lest it be confused with the Book of Common Prayer. Another title Couples in the Bible is also out of print but is being published in Spanish. When it becomes available, I will put some of this on my Webpage as well. Let me paraphrase from the Preface:

These prayers are neither orthodox nor unorthodox. They lie somewhere in between. Nor are they prose or poetry. They are candid portraits of young people grappling with the complexities of the workaday world. They are not carefully rehearsed but arise out of need; they are desperate cries for help or spontaneous outbursts of gratitude. In a sense, they are trying to get God’s attention by throwing a prayer at His window . . .

Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep

Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
Keep me safely through the night
And wake me up at morning light.
Bless Mummy and Daddy and all the missionaries. A-men.

Remember, Lord, when I prayed like this?

When was it I stopped praying If I should die before I wake and used the more modern Keep me safely through the night?

Lord, when did I stop praying?
When was I unafraid of dying in my sleep?
When I assumed I’d awake at morning light?
When did I outgrow my childhood prayer?
When did I outgrow prayer?

Somewhere . . . somehow I put this childish prayer behind me.
On second thought, Lord, it wasn’t childish at all. It had served me well.

I closed my eyes I folded my hands and gently slipped into dreamland.

But now I need You again, yet how do I begin?

Now I lay me down to sleep
I know I’ll improve within a week;
Please wake me up at morning light
I’ll need Your help to do what’s right.

For Those Who Rub Me the Wrong Way

Lord God, some people rub me the wrong way.
I’ve tried but I can’t help it.
I don’t like them I can’t stand them.
I won’t tolerate them and I certainly don’t love them.
What can I do?
I hate to go to sleep feeling this way.
Maybe if we talk about it I’ll feel better.

No matter what is done Tom thinks he can do it better.
Dick argues with everyone—just so he can hear himself talk.
Larry gloats in his pseudo superiority and
Mary thinks she’s God’s gift to society.
Poor Jane.
Jane thinks God has passed her by and
Sue is half child, half woman.

Tom, Dick and Larry . . .
Mary, Jane and Sue . . .
and me, grumpy, irritated me.
Maybe I don’t like them because I don’t like me?
Well, not all of the time— sometimes I like me too much.

Anyway, Lord, I feel better now that it’s off my chest.
Thanks for listening . . . and thanks for
Tom, Dick and Larry,
Mary, Jane and Sue.

I think I need them . . might even learn to like them. What do You think?

Verdi on Wheels

You know about the write-up in the paper today:
Singing Bus Driver Delivers Arias and Passengers.
Sure, I was pleased. Very pleased.
When I had failed one tryout after another and had nowhere to go,
I was bitter, discouraged, frightened.
What could a voice major do without a singing job?

I could have taught but I don’t like teaching.
I could have gone to grad school but I was fed up with studying.
I could have switched majors, but nothing else appealed to me.

That’s when I looked You up again.
We talked.
We probed.
We compromised.
Remember?

I’m not sorry, Lord, really.
I love driving a bus and my passengers don’t seem to mind a little Verdi or Mozart.
Maybe I’ll drive the rest of my life.
Maybe not. But whatever happens I can handle it, thanks to You.

Thank You for Not Answering My Prayer

Oh, God, I’m exhausted so only a couple of minutes tonight
but I must tell You what is happening.
Remember when I cried myself to sleep
because I didn’t get the third grade teaching position?
Well, all those tears were wasted.
Teaching kindergarten is absolutely marvelous.
Oh, I don’t mean it is easy because it isn’t.

But such wonderful opportunities.

You remember Elisabeth . . . such a little fuss-budget.
I must make sure she doesn’t become an incorrigible perfectionist.
And tough Eric. What a monster!
Somehow—and here I sure need Your help—I must break his bullishness without crushing his spirit.

Poor Eleanore. She gets far too much of my time, but it’s finally paying off.
Then there’s little Erwin. So tiny, timid, and terrified of every new experience.
His mother wants him to be an astronaut, You know,
but right now he’s scared to death of a swing.

Lord, I’m so happily exhausted I know I will sleep well. Good night.

The Day I Got Fired

Today I got fired, Lord,
and I'm torn apart inside.
No, not because I was fired
but because I deserved it.
I cut corners
I took advantage of people
I did sloppy work
I goofed off . . .
In fact, I was anything but Christian.

Even so, I had more integrity than most of the others:
they stole the company blind
they undermined the boss
they came late and left early
they faked illness
they padded their expenses
they manipulated the books.

But that's not the point just now.
I really don't mind too much that
they have their jobs while I am unemployed.

What is bothering me is that
I got away with it for so long.
It was humiliating to get caught, Lord,
not because the boss got wise
but because I didn't.

How could I live like that--
week after week, month after month?
Maybe getting fired was the best thing
that could have happened to me.
It's a pity it didn't happen sooner.

I Thought I Could Handle It

I thought I could handle it, Lord,
but now I am not sure.
I was trying to prove that a Christian
could work as a hostess at this club
without playing their game.

This, Lord, I can handle:
anyone can fend off a man or two
anyone can go straight home after work
anyone can put lemon in a liquor glass
anyone can look sexy without being sexy.
That's all in a night's work.

It's the extras I can't seem to handle:
unmercifully sizing up the big spenders
listening continually to small talk
smiling sheepishly at cheap jokes
getting frustrated covering for the boss
watching the naive and gullible get taken
realizing how much time and money are wasted
night after night
week after week.

Lord, I think I have proved my point.
Six months have gone by
and I haven't begun to yield
but something is going out and
nothing is coming in.
It's only a matter of time
before my soul will be empty.

Never before have I earned so much
and invested so little.

Lord, would You mind helping me
find a job that is bigger than I
but just right for the two of us?

A Sophisticated Facade

Good and gracious Lord,
How'd I get into this mess?
How do I get out?
I thought I had the perfect job
a job where I could show off
and spite my parents
at the same time.

You know, God, I never intended
to sell my body.
It's not
nor has it ever been for sale.
But that is what most seem to think of a masseuse I'm afraid.

At first I thought this was
a high class establishment
but it turned out to be a
low class joint with a cheap
although impressive facade.

Now I'm trapped.
I've had my kicks
I've gotten my revenge
I've impressed my friends and
I've played it cool.
So, here I am: unsullied and unhappy!
Today I tried to talk serioiusly
with a client.
I told him I was a Christian
but he wouldn't believe it
or listen to me.

Maybe I did get through to him
because he almost screamed:
"What in the world are you doing here?"
That, God, is what I am wondering, too.

Note: I wrote these prayers for young adults twenty years ago. Are they relevant today? Makes one wonder how much society really has changed over the years.

Watch this space for more Uncommon Prayers . . .

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