Peanut Butter Prayers

March 13, 1995
I was consumed with sadness, anger, grief, loss. I wanted to have everything returned the way it was. As I made lunch for my preschooler and our current baby I emphatically told God what He needed to do for me.
Before lunch, I said the perfunctory grace of gratitude even though I felt none, and we ate. My son chattered about his morning and ran back out to play. I cleared the table and sat down with the baby
As I rocked her back and forth, my thoughts returned to my problem and the perfect solution that God should give me.
The little guy, back in from play, interrupted me. “I want a peanut butter sandwich.” The baby stirred, looking at him sleepily.
“Not right now. The baby is almost asleep.”
“I’m hungry.”
“We just had lunch, you can wait a few minutes until the baby is asleep.”
His face hardened as he looked at the intruder, “I want a sandwich, now.”
“Sorry, you have to wait.”
He contorted his face as if in major pain, “I can’t wait. I need one now.”
I tried to divert the oncoming temper tantrum, “Look. I’m not going to go make a peanut butter sandwich right now, but if you want, we can read a book while I rock the baby. OK?”
He scowled at me and stomped over to his bookshelf and returned several books.
By the time we had read all of them, the baby was asleep and the pre- schooler was yawning.
“Want to go upstairs and take a nap?” He nodded.
I took the baby to the crib, and walked with him up the stairs to his bed.
He melted onto his bed. I tiptoed away to enjoy the quiet house while internally I raged with pain and demands that God give me what I wanted when I wanted it.
An hour and a half later, as I folded clothes, my pre-schooler woke and came to me.
“You said you would make me a peanut butter sandwich.”
“Right. I did say I would fix you one.” I made one and went to load more clothes into the wash machine.
When I returned, he was out in the back yard playing. The sandwich was on the counter. He had taken only a couple of small bites.
I looked at the counter, still hearing his absolute insistence two hours before that he needed that sandwich. As I gathered up the leftovers, my persistent prayer returned to my thoughts.
I started to remind God one more time of what I wanted right now – and stopped.
Was I praying “peanut butter sandwich prayers?” Demanding more when I was already full?
My grief, rage, pain, sadness continued. I still wanted what I wanted when I wanted it. But I sat down, read a book, tried to take it easy while I waited.
I never did get what I wanted at that time.
A few years ago, I began finding out reasons to be very thankful that I had not gotten what I prayed to receive. Sometimes when I am ready to make my demands and needs known, I think about that peanut butter sandwich. I ask myself, “Am I asking for a real need or making a lot of noise and fuss about something I am not ready for?” Sometimes, that long-gone sandwich causes me to rethink my prayer requests.