Forget the fancy words and deep analogies; prayer is about relationship.
‘Your strength is not in numbers, nor does your might depend upon the powerful, but you are the God of the lowly, the helper of the oppressed, the supporter of the weak, the protector of those in despair, the savior of those without hope. Please, please, God of my father, God of the heritage of Israel, Master of heaven and earth, Creator of the waters, King of all you have created, hear my prayer.’—Judith 9:11-12
“What do you want me to do for you?” He replied, “Lord, please let me see.”—Luke 18:41
There’s something about the desperate confidence of Judith’s prayer that resonates with me on such a deep level. Here is a woman with no earthly reason for hope, whose home is besieged by the world’s most powerful army, whose future holds the promise only of suffering and death.
She knows there is no way out, nothing to be done to save her people. And still she volunteers for the job because she knows that while she is powerless, she serves an all-powerful God.
So she takes it on herself to do the impossible. And then she prays. She prays from the darkness to a God who can bring light.
She knows that the God of Israel is a wonder-worker with a heart for the helpless and she begs him to do what she knows he can do: save his people.
It’s a powerful moment of faith, and one that is not unrewarded — read the book to get to know one of the greatest heroines of the ancient world.
I’m struck by the eloquence and the passion of her prayer. Time and again I’ve flipped to this page, praying for miraculous deliverance in a hopeless situation. I remind myself who God is, how he loves, what he’s capable of, and I plead with him to hear my prayer. Continue reading
- Meg Hunter-Kilmer is a cradle Catholic and a revert, brought back to the fold by a grace-filled confession and the supreme logic of Catholic doctrine.