My daddy used to wear tie tacks.  I looked forward to seeing which one he’d wear to church each Sunday.  My favorite were these praying hands.  I use Daddy’s desk as my own now in my office.  Looking through one of the bottom drawers I came across this.  He lived up to the symbology of those clasped hands in that I know he prayed every day.  Prayer is as natural for me as breathing thanks to him.  Prayer is what leads me through the overwhelming loneliness and pain of missing my parents.  Prayer is what makes me appreciate all my blessings.  Prayer is what picks me up when I stumble.  Prayer gives me hope.  Prayer grants me peace.  Prayer graces me with faith.  And prayer fills me with an assurance that God’s love is always present.  St. Paul, whom my daddy adored, said:

Rejoice evermore.

Pray without ceasing.

In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you. ~ 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18