I asked God for a million dollars once. It happened after my mother scolded me: “There’s not enough money to pay the bills,” she said, “let alone buy you a new bathing suit.” I was ten years old at the time.
I sat on the front porch and prayed, tears rolling down my face. Not for a new bathing suit, but for cold, hard cash. I asked God to give my mom a million dollars so that she could pay her bills (no doubt inspired by a popular television show at the time, “The Millionaire”). I believe you could say it was my first “intercessory prayer.”
I figured that amount of money would fix my mom’s problems, and then she’d be happy again and “all would be well.” I prayed as only a child could pray. With complete confidence that God looked down on me from the clouds and heard my prayer.
But the man in the black suit never came. He never rang our doorbell and handed my mom that cashier’s check magically appearing from his zippered leather case signed by the mysterious benefactor, Mr. Tipton.
I think it’s remarkable that I asked God for an impossible amount, even if the inspiration did come from a television show. Why didn’t I just ask him to pay her bills with a little left over for the swim suit I wished for in the Sears catalog?
All I remember is that the prayer poured out of me, and once I prayed, I felt better. I don’t recall any disappointment that God didn’t answer my prayer. My memories are only of praying the prayer, and then playing baseball with friends in a park afterwards.
Looking back, I’m convinced that God answered and honored the prayer of a ten-year-old child that day. An all-knowing God knew what I was really asking. It was for security and the love of my mother. He lifted my burden that day, and that’s all I know. And set me up for a life-time habit of running to him for my needs. To ask without doubting and allowing the Holy Spirit to decipher it all. It is in the asking that my faith depends on, and not how it is answered.
Don’t get me wrong. I love prayer that is answered exactly in how we have asked it. So much so, that I think we get hung up on the answers instead of the asking. The gift instead of the Giver. We place value on the answers more that the riches that can be found in being able to petition Almighty God through the blood of Jesus Christ.
I believe that prayer for my mom that day began a series of events in our lives bringing us both to a better knowledge of him. This simple prayer set in motion our personal journeys and future relationship with a God who saw the struggles of a mother and the insecurity of a child. Growing and transforming it into the greater need of saving us out of a fallen world, so that the peace that passes all understanding would be ours—then, now, and forever.