THE VACUUM CLEANER
James 4:2c

In the mid seventies, I discovered George Mueller. As his story unfolded day by day in fifteen-minute radio drama segments, my wish to be a woman of faith exploded. The daily re-enactments pushed me right out of the nest and into a journey of praying “specifically.” I had been a pray-er before, but I was not a specific pray-er. As the stories in the Bible, the story of George Mueller touched my life and brought about a permanent change in my heart and my way of praying.

Immediately I put it to the test. Ginger needed socks and we could not afford socks. Living in a house that was once a two flat, and beginning the process of a total remodel, we had not gotten to the cluttered back porch yet. That night after asking God for socks, I went up to start cleaning. Amidst the incredible mess was a paper bag. Inside was about 8 pairs of pastel socks, all Ginger’s size.

This became my normal operating procedure, praying and believing. This is not to say that everything in my life was ducky, because it was not. However, I did believe God for my specific needs, and was able to share the truth of God’s desire to meet our needs with many others.

Years later, living in the country, still poor, the need for a vacuum cleaner arose. The house which we purchased was carpeted from wall to wall in every room. The vacuum cleaner we brought with us was useless. I needed to pray.

The thought came to me to invite the twins into the living room to pray with me, but I just could not bring myself to do it. What if I built a little altar in the living room for Georgia and Angela and me, and we prayed for a vacuum cleaner, and God did not answer? The confidence I had that God would come through was very strong. He always had. But, the tiny dart of unbelief won out. I prayed for a vacuum cleaner by myself.

You know, I felt guilty after talking to the Lord about my fear of injuring the girls’ faith. There was an immediate awareness that I had not carried out this event as a godly mom. I think I told God I was sorry.

If I didn’t tell Him then, I did twenty minutes later when the phone rang and my sister-in-law said to me (almost with a “hello, how are you?”), “Do you need a vacuum cleaner?” Knowing myself as I do, I undoubtedly collapsed into a heap in the carpeted hallway as I made an attempt at answering her calmly. “I just prayed for a vacuum cleaner, twenty minutes ago,” I said.

I wish I could say that an enormous change took place in me because of that experience and that from that day on, I faithfully prayed with my kids about their needs and the family needs. I didn’t. Some of the time I did. Some of the time I didn’t. Perhaps there were enough times and a general atmosphere of trusting God in my life to whet their appetite for praying specifically.

Into the twins’ room I went, eyes full of tears, full of sincere apology for missing a perfect opportunity to walk together with God. The answer to prayer was a wonderful lesson in itself. Yet, I missed an opportunity to gather my kids around me and show them what it means to pray and believe “specifically.”