So, I was flipping through the blog of a preacher I rather like and saw this post on prayer. My first thought was: for pete's sake, don't be the flaming idiot who says something along the lines of "well, God just wanted your loved one home." Cause I can tell you that I will look God in the eye and tell him that I don't give a damn if he wanted my dad in heaven, I want my dad here, and God can just wait. (Yes, then I would be promptly sent to hell. I get it. I'm willing to take that risk. Or maybe God's far more complicated than some omni-benevolent model who wants groveling respect and is trying to goad us into taking God seriously enough to interrogate God and demand to know the answer.) Just don't be the idiot who inspires that complaint. Incidentally, if you are that idiot, probably nobody you've said that to remembers exactly who said it. They just remember it was one of the least helpful statements they have ever heard.
But I don't really talk to the Divine, per se. The Bellevue Baptist billboards with the "Given up? Get a relationship with Jesus!" make me laugh bitterly. First of all, there are my issues with Bellevue and that christology. Second, I'm not really convinced that the Divine is that concerned with individuals. Odd given that I'm also fascinated with the image of Lady Wisdom crying in the streets and have an odd ambition to become a female member of the Knighthood of the Divine Lady Sophia. Or maybe not so odd, since I also think Aleksandr Blok's formulation of a rather sado-masochistic relationship with Sophia is more dead-on than Soloviev's happy, happy, I am loved formulation. And I just wandered off in Russian arcaneness again. (Murr, I can't find a translation of a good example of Blok online. Curses.)
I have noticed lately that I find the idea of asking a saint to intercede for me is much less daunting than going directly to the source. This is probably partly rooted in my newly discovered attraction to Mary of Egypt and the sensation I've been having lately that I owe her a handful of votive candles. I haven't thought enough on it to really have processed it. Could be related to the "I'm not really convinced the Divine is interested in individuals" quirk, or it could go back even further into my early teenage recognition that the Catholics (hadn't yet been introduced to the Orthodox) were onto something -- Mary (Virgin) would probably have a better understanding of menstrual pains than J.C. would, some feminine understanding would be nice (no, that is NOT petty). Of course, Mary of Egypt isn't precisely feminine understanding, but that's the attraction for me.
Oh, so many different rabbit holes I could follow in that. Later.