When I was small, I would frequently spend hours reading a book in this little armchair that was tucked away in a corner of my Grandma's kitchen. It was the best place in the house, right between her washing machine and china cabinet. My favourite part about the kitchen was all of its comforting noises: the whirring of the clock on the wall, the hum of the dryer, and the sound of Grandma praying. When Grandma was alone (or practically alone) in her kitchen, she would talk out loud to God.
I'm always reminded of Grandma when I read the Biblical instruction to "pray without ceasing." It really seemed like Grandma was in a constant state of prayer. When we slept in the spare room in her basement, I'd wake up in the middle of night to the sound of someone walking around upstairs. If I was in anyone else's house, I would have been alarmed by the sound of someone walking around in the small hours of the morning. At Grandma's house, that sound was comforting, because I knew that Grandma was pacing around praying. She would regularly wake up in the middle of the night and think of someone who needed prayer. When that has happened to me, I've mumbled a prayer and fallen back asleep. Not my Grandma; she'd get out of bed and pace around so that she wouldn't fall asleep until after she'd really prayed.
A lot of people referred to my Grandma as a "prayer warrior." She took prayer seriously and prayed frequently. She loved dwelling in God's presence.
You know, it was always a comforting feeling to me, whenever I was sick or somehow distressed, to know that there were very good odds that my Grandma was praying for me. That made me feel so safe.
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