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Closed Doors and Open Arms ~ Sunday's National Day of Prayer

What a day! Nothing is the same. 

I miss getting ready for church. Never before had I realized how much I prayed as I dress for church. Often, I had thanked God that here in America we could go to church without worries or concerns. It’s been a norm praying for those who were going to share in-depth insights into the Word. A quick “thanks” for a good hair day came as many times as an acceptance of “oh-well” hair days too. 
As my vanity in dressing up showed on the outside, I stepped on my own spiritual toes by asking myself many a Sundays, “Who am I trying to impress.” On occasions, shamefully my silent answers had a name other than Jesus. How I would like to say I prayed for them when my toes smarted. It didn’t happen as often as it should have before I rushed to the open doors of the church building. 
On this unusual Sunday with the church doors locked and the windows don’t shine with warm lights pouring out, I set in my warm-up suit without make-up or curled hair. Nevertheless, prayer…

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