Prayer, part two.

So, I was praying the other day, while walking home from football training. It was my usual stumbling through a few thoughts and occasionally uttering them out loud. My mind wandered, and sometimes I'd pray for the things my mind wandered to, and sometimes I didn't. I would be loathe to say that the whole time I was walking - or limping, I suppose - I was in prayerful bliss, but somehow, I knew that I was having a very languid conversation with the Almighty.

Then I found myself saying "Sorry, God..."

Sometimes, those words are out of my mouth before I realise what I think I'm sorry for. Maybe I'm just a closet Catholic, but I seem to think that unless I apologise for every minor misdemeanour, God won't listen to me.

And, rather ridiculously, I was apologising for not saying enough, and letting my mind wander while 'praying'. Then I thought to myself, what if God delights in any conversation? Even if it is a mumbled "Please help Auntie Maud and her arthritis," or even "Cool... leaves to stamp on."

I was talking to a wise man yesterday about all and sundry, and somehow we got around to what God thinks of sin. I postulated that God cares less about sin than we do, and thankfully, the wise man agreed. But, perhaps he also cares less about prayer than we do. I mean, proper, thought-out, coherent prayers. Maybe, just maybe, he loves every snatch of conversation he can get, and waits patiently for us to talk to him again.