FACE PLANT

I stepped into the pulpit this morning - Father's Day - and face-planted.

Hard.

I stumbled through the opening of a sermon about prayer and then put the whole thing on pause to admit that the message hadn't traveled through me in any authentic way before I tried to pass it along to the congregation. 

The reality is that my prayer life has never been consistent nor deep. I have had my moments and my seasons, true, but the moments have been sporadic and the seasons have been short. 

I am no prayer warrior.

I have "wanted" to be a prayer warrior. 

But this morning I had to admit to myself, in front of every one, that I have never WANTED to be a prayer warrior. 

I am not even sure that "prayer warrior" is the term I would choose. Maybe simply "man of prayer" is what I am after. 

This morning was embarrassing, but the congregation was full of grace and encouragement. And my family propped me up the rest of the day. 

It was a Father's Day I won't soon forget. 

Fortunately, tomorrow is a new day. 

I think I will start it with prayer.