Let My People "Go"

I did something rebellious this week.  I'm an American Christian and I shopped at Target!

I've been avoiding the whole "bathroom issue" on social media for as long as I possibly could. (Which, trust me, I'm usually the initiator of all things potty talk. This showed great restraint on my part.)

Then, this week, "the" letter from the White House was published and a whole new influx of ignorance exploded online.

Well, if the noisy minority gets to have their say, then I justly have equal rights to voice my common sense, er... opinion.

I'm obviously referring the issue of where transgender folk are allowed to pee. 

If I were reading that sentence from the eyes of any other generation, past or future, my first thought would be, "Is this what has come of the great America?! They've become so sparse on things to be offended by that they tried to take away a human's right to vacate their bowels and bladders?" 

And, yes. My past/future self would be correct. Apparently, that is what this nation has come to.

Well, I can sense that the imaginary blood pressure meter I've connected to this blog post is starting to rise through the roof. But, stick with me. I've suffered through your opinions for long enough. Take a quiet moment to sit through mine.

Here are some things to consider on this issue:

Everybody pees: The missed point of those opposing the right to choose which restroom one identifies with, is that the whole topic exists because people need to pee and poop. Whatever spin you're putting on this debate is simply spin. Any imagined fear over what else may possibly happening in public restrooms makes me wonder if you've ever set foot in one. Everybody poops. Everybody's got to do it somewhere.

That's not how bathrooms work: It seems that the women's room is the facility that is worrying protesters the most. As a woman who frequents a female potty multiple times daily, let me address this fear for those who have never had a peek in there.

To the men who stand at urinals, with their junk on display for all to see, know this: The women's room has nothing but stalls.

Here's an additional anatomy lesson for you: We have to sit down for anything we do in there. We don't have urinals. We don't see each others private parts. We're behind closed doors for the entire show. And, those doors even lock! This is why someone may feel safer in here. It's a private space. 

Something else to consider: Any new rules or regulations have not made your children "rapist bait" any more than they were before, because they aren't in there alone! Mothers don't allow that. Many mothers even have their sons in there because some men don't want to be bothered with that chore. If we want to start a protest, how about "Equal Shares of Diaper-Changing Duties Between Dads and Moms"? Because your toddler is crawling under my private stall.

How would you even know? Last I checked (yesterday) there was no bouncer at the women's room door. No one was signing in pee-ers by driver's license or birth certificate. And, I'm so thankful that no one was checking for proof of genitalia to register my toilet use. I had to go! I didn't have time any of that nonsense. And, you know what? I didn't even see another living soul in the 90 seconds it took to do my business. If I had, would I have even known their "true" gender? Probably not. They've been peeing somewhere for all these years and have succeeded at being discreet about it. 

Laws and written rules allowing fairness are not legalizing sexual assault: Let me now address those who swear up and down that they're not discriminating against transgenders, but against those who are pretending to be. 1.) Are you really? 2.) Because, that really doesn't seem to be the case. 3.) This is the strangest attempt at trying to sound politically correct I've ever come across.

Let's just call a spade a spade. You're uncomfortable with the idea of a human being "spayed". (Come on! At least give me credit for the pun!)

It's the twenty-first century and it's high time we stop being intimidated by everything that's different than yourself. So, you don't understand it? That's okay! I don't wholly either. I was born female and identify as female, so it's not a topic I've had to struggle through. You can either choose to educate yourself on the topic or choose to ignore it. But, what you can't do is take away the human rights of someone, just because you don't understand them or agree with their way of life.

Most crimes involving transgenders are ones where they are the victim. This is the issue at hand here. Allowing someone to relieve themselves in a safe and private environment. This does not make it legal for any man in a dress to army crawl underneath stalls peeking and touching at whatever he pleases. If someone really tries this, he will be kicked in the face by a high heeled shoe! Dumb move. Illegal move. He's going to jail.  

Maybe you're the perv: Who's dreaming up these scenarios, anyhow? And, aren't they kind of the perverts in this debate? The people who really scare me are the ones so vocal about who they think is in the next stall and what they think they're up to in there.

Why is your imagination going to such places? Are you having sex or doing questionable things in public bathrooms? If not, why do you assume that anyone else is? The only people I'm now worried about in the restroom, are the ones who are going to be taking it upon themselves to police the joint. I don't want anyone sizing me up and deciding whether they think I'm dainty enough to be a "real girl". I'm not the most delicate flower. Your assumptions may exclude me from using the women's room and I'm not okay with that.

This seems like a repeat of the homophobic rants I'd witnessed when gay marriage was the hot button topic of the day. "They're perverts!" "Do you realize what they do?" "It's disgusting!"

The simple answer to that is: Well, then, stop thinking about it so much!

For the record, I'm not picturing any of you in sexual scenarios with your spouses, boyfriends, girlfriends or lovers. So, why dwell so publicly on fantasies of what you think the people you're offended by are doing behind closed doors? That's between them, their partners and the Lord. 

You're not welcome into anyone else's bedroom or bathroom stall. When tempted to "preach" your opinions of others, take a moment to pause and focus on what the Bible preaches first: "...Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise." (Philippians 4:8)

God doesn't want us wasting so much time imagining what we think are the sins of sinners. Remember, "For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God." (Romans 3:23) We're all in the same boat. Do you want me dwelling on whatever I think you've been up to in your lifetime? Let's give each other a break and the benefit of the doubt. 

What Would Jesus Do? The most frightening part of this debate is the attempt to spin this into a Christian issue. Any church of any denomination trying to stir their congregation up into a frenzy over this has me in great fear over the reputation of all Christians. If you're a part of any religious ministry, you should already know this verse well: "For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind." (2 Timothy 1:7)

Your responsibility is to teach, guide and encourage your flock. Not to rustle up fear and anger amongst them. Teaching the Word is a great responsibility and God is watching very closely the example you lay forth. "My brethren, let not many of you become teachers, knowing that we shall receive a stricter judgment." (James 3:1) And, speaking of judgement, we all know what the Bible says about that not being our job either. (Romans 14:13, Matthew 7:1-5, Luke 6:37, James 4:11-12... shall I go on?) 

We all can agree that indoor plumbing did not exist in biblical times. There's no mention of bathroom matters in the Bible, so don't pretend that this is a biblical topic. They had to go wherever they went back then and I can venture to guess that it was a lot less private than the stalls you're so worried about today.

What we do know, though, is how Jesus treated others. He asked us to show more love to others than we show for ourselves. We can't do this by inciting fear. We're not doing this by regulating others' bodily functions. We're not showing this when we're misrepresenting Christianity on social media and in our political discussions. America has guaranteed us our freedom of speech. Be cautious of how you use this right. If you're going to throw the Bible on a topic, be sure you're taking note of who's words you're quoting, their context, and who you're representing in your statements.

It breaks my heart that there are people who hate Christians, just because they have come into contact with someone who has been misrepresenting us. Don't form a belief just because a pastor or teacher told you it was the right one. Don't repeat an opinion if you're not truly convicted of it. Your church leaders aren't your only spiritual resource. Search Scripture on your own if something doesn't sound right. Go to the Lord yourself in prayer for guidance if you're unsure. All humans are flawed. Pastors make mistakes and speak out of turn sometimes too. Don't be a blind follower. Because, blind followers who are vocal become false prophets. 

Target is the Bomb: Let's face it. If Target was clubbing baby seals in their restrooms, I'd probably still shop there. It's the closest grocery store to my house and they have the lowest prices on dairy in town.

You can disagree with me. You can unfriend me on Facebook, unfollow me on Twitter, or gossip about me in the gender-assigned restroom of your choosing. But, please, do me a favor and save your breath with me on this topic.

Whatever you say, whoever you vote for and whatever on earth you choose to believe, you will never ever convince me to be afraid to pee. 

Let Me Tell You About My Grandma...

Me and my gal.

My dear grandmother passed away this week.

She was my last living grandparent. She was 95 year old. And, once I tell you all about her, you're going to wish you would have known her yourself.

Some things you should know about my grandma. She was:

Brave: As a child, had you asked me if I thought my grandma was brave, I would have said, "No way! She doesn't swim and never even learned how to ride a bike. Her hair is always curled and she wears matching shoes and scarves. She's a girly girl. There's nothing brave about that!" I may not have said it all out loud, but I certainly would have thought it. Strongly.

But, once I became a woman, my grandma shared pieces of her story with me time and time again. The more she shared, the more my opinion of her grew.

Her parents were Swedish immigrants, fresh off the boat. Her mother embarrassed her growing up by saying things like, "Let's take the hiss to the third floor" instead of using the American term "elevator". She later felt sorry for her mother's struggles in this new land with Swedish being her native tongue and came to have empathy for the barriers that must have caused her. But, when you're a kid---even in the 1920's---you wish your parents would just be cool and use the common term for that man-sized box on the cables.

She grew up in Topeka, Kansas, surviving the Depression and later "running away" to Detroit. I wish I had paid better attention, so I could give you an age or a year... but just know that she traveled to Detroit to visit a friend and stayed here. Forever. Never looking back.

It was never clear to me if she traveled here knowing she was to never go home. Was her vacation really a plot? Was she escaping the Dust Bowl? (She was a very much a lady. She would have wanted to keep her dresses clean.) Or, did she just fall in love with the Motor City and cancel her return ticket? My guess is that she was likely in her early twenties, which would have made this the early 1940's. And, that's just not the kind of thing you think of respectable young women in the early 1940's doing.

She lived right in the city, in an apartment shared with an older female roommate. She lived dollar to dollar and ended up falling in love with a handsome Canadian named Elden. It's okay. Elden was my grandpa. So, this is a love story I'm allowed to know.

Elden was a bit older than Alice. (Alice is my grandma's name, by the way.) He already had an ex-wife and two children. But, boy, did he sweep her off of her feet! I remember her once swoonily telling me, "Oh, your Grandpa! I thought he looked just like Tyrone Power when we met!" I glanced over at the old man sitting across the room from us, with his big teeth, bushy eyebrows and probable cookie hidden in his breast pocket; and thought to myself, "Okay, Grandma. If you say so..."

Tyrone Power? Is that you?

So, here's my grandma. Hundreds of miles from home. A new wife. A young stepmother. And, soon to become a mother herself. That seems like alot of responsibility for someone of that age. In my generation, at least, it would have been! I was just starting to feel out my moxy in my twenties. She had fully taken on womanhood! Brave indeed.

She ended up having three girls of her own, which is pretty brave in itself. And, they were three girls from three different molds bearing three very different minds of their own (...just like their mother, now I know.) 

Judging by the stories I've heard, these kids seemed to do whatever they wanted. They were allowed to be adventurous, even if it sometimes meant stitches and/or broken bones.

Pile on the pets!

When I was a kid, we had to beg and barter just to bring one dog and one cat into the house. These girls had several dogs, actual piles of kittens, as well as rabbits and whatever else the cat dragged in (maybe, literally.) One even got away with bringing home a horse from the fairgrounds. A horse, I said! Was she grounded? No way. Just go build a corral and a barn so it has someplace to stay.

Piling pets on the horse!

Brave girls. That's the kind of daughters Grandma would like us all to raise.

My grandma and I had a special bond. I lived within blocks of her house my entire life (even right next door for about a decade.) So, I got in more "Grandma Time" than the average person. She graduated from authority figure to friend over the course of my lifetime.

Grandma loved men. I love men too, but my life never revolved around the importance of constantly being in a relationship. She spent the early half of my thirties saddened by the fact that getting married just wasn't at the top of my priority list. To the point that I came to think that she would never die until she saw me married off. In my mind, she could not leave this earth, until she saw I was "taken care of". In some abstract way, I credited her long life to me being stubbornly independent and never "settling down". But, I recently found out how wrong I was.

I'd never seen Grandma prouder of me than the day I announced that I had put money down on my own place. My own money. For my own home. This was during her first week in hospital, about a month before she passed. I had, after forty years, shown her my own moxy. I now realize that this made her prouder than if I had walked in with a diamond ring on my left hand. I had finally followed her brave lead. She knew I was going to be okay.

Struttin' it out in Topeka

Stylish: Grandma was a lady's lady and handled herself with a grace and poise I can and will never live up to. She was always put together. Always on her manners. She instinctively knew how to accessorize, from the days that she made her own clothing to the ones where she was able to raid the Hudson's store, downtown. She knew what she was doing and was known for it.

In the 80's she even had a full-length faux leopard fur coat that I secretly wished I would one day inherit. It's been long-since donated somewhere. *tear*

She once brazenly told me that she was the first person to put red and brown together. Have you seen that in a fashion magazine? Did you think your grandma started that trend? Well, you're wrong. Grandma was a humble woman and wasn't one to ever want credit for her accomplishments. But, whatever the deal was with brown and red... hands off! She's claimed it!

More struttin' in Topeka, this time with a friend!
(Is she wearing all black? Or, brown and red? We'll never know!)

Funny: We've always thought of Grandpa (the dreamy, Elden) as being the family comedian. You know those Canadians! But, Grandma subtly proved through the years that she could hold her own.

From the time in the 50's when the neighbor kid wouldn't leave her alone. Peppering her with inane questions left and right as she was just trying to fix her tea, already! She sprinkled in her artificial sweetener, holding in her patience, as the neighbor boy obnoxiously asked, "WHAT'S THAT STUFF YOU'RE PUTTING IN YOUR TEA?!" She calmly answered back, "L.S.D." and went on about her snack.

She didn't say it to entertain the kid. There was no audience around to chuckle at her wit. She was just giving herself a laugh to get through the day. Also, providing herself with the years-long amusement of wondering if the story made it home to his parents and are they imagining the sweet Baptist woman in the little white house on the corner tripping on psychedelics during her daily afternoon tea.

Snacking like a lady. But, what's that in her tea?

When Grandpa got sick with Alzheimer's, she told me about the importance of humor. He was doing strange things, not recognizing us all the time, making little sense when he talked and lost his ability to care for himself. She told me, "Kimmy, you've just got to find something to laugh about every day. If you don't, you'll do nothing but cry."

So, we laughed. We laughed at his quizzing us on who we were. We turned it into interviews. We laughed when he'd pet the arm of the wingback chair, thinking it was his beloved cat, George. We laughed as he asked me on a date to go dancing, because he didn't remember that I was his granddaughter. (He did a mean Charleston. You would have accepted too!) We laughed when he told us un-p.c. things about women and made up songs with words we weren't allowed to use.

We laughed our way through his disease, because Grandma gave us the permission to, so it was okay. And, that license helped us survive those hard years.

Even in her last weeks, she made me promise again to never lose my sense of humor. She begged, "Kimmy, never stop laughing. We need humor in this life." It was an easy promise to make and keep.

Especially, two days after her passing, when we opened her obituary to see dear Alice being referred to as a "Loving Father... Grandfather... and Great-Grandfather to fifteen." Oh, we're laughing Grandma. And, so would you be! 

Above all else, She wanted you to know about Jesus: 

Grandma was a Sunday School teacher when I was a child. I was even a student in her class, along with some of my siblings and cousins.

She grew up Presbyterian, but joined the Baptist church as a Detroiter. Christian is Christian, as far as I'm concerned. It doesn't matter the denomination, but this is how Grandma found God.

Coming to know the Lord was a turning point in her life. It gave her a holy purpose. It guided her conscience. It gave her comfort in times when the world just doesn't provide that for you. She knew the world's job isn't to look out for us, but God is begging to. That was the most important relationship in her life.

Because of her faith, generations of people have found faith and comfort in God. She insisted her family know about Him. Not always tactfully so, but this was a lesson and a priceless relationship that we were not going to miss out on, if she had anything to do with it!

Christianity teaches of salvation (going to Heaven when you die) by faith, as Ephesians 2:8-9 tells us that, "By grace are you saved by faith - this is not from yourselves, it is a gift from God - not by works, lest anyone should boast."

What drew Grandma to her Christian faith is the assurance it gave her in this salvation. You can know where you're going when you die. You don't have to guess. You don't have to hope. You don't have to cross your fingers and count your good deeds to feel God in your life and receive His gifts. You can actually tap into this guidance while on earth. You can have a living Comforter, when humans fail you. You can have peace in your soul over things others try to complicate.

Grandma loved to have conversations about God with other believers. She loved talking to others who have that bond of truly living with Christ in their lives.

We would talk about Heaven sometimes. Grandma was a secretary by trade and she always hated filing. She once told me of her fear that, when she gets to Heaven, she worries God will put her in charge of filing. I said, "Grandma! That doesn't sound like Heaven to me. Where do you think you're going to?" But, she was humble. She had a saving faith that would get her through the pearly gates, but not enough good works, she feared, to get her a sweet gig once she made it there. (Fingers crossed... Heaven has gone paperless by now.)

I told you Grandma was funny! All the good she'd done in life. All the kindness she showed toward others. She always worried, she didn't do enough. She didn't tell enough people about Christ. She'd outlasted all of her friends and peers, so her work must not be done on earth. What was she missing? She was becoming ready to go Home.

In all her worry that she didn't do enough, I watched as her family and former students and people that she had touched shared their seeds with others. Roots she'd planted in life ages ago, were now spreading across the world. People who may not have given God a second thought until they'd met her were now sharing the Good News with their children and their loved ones.

She continued to mentor me, maybe without either of us even realizing it at the time. I began to teach the little ones in my life. I learned to be less legalistic in my own faith. I learned not to sweat the small stuff and let God intercede. I began to allow others to know I had needs (I'm stubborn too!) and became humble enough to ask for prayer when I needed it.

But, Grandma's favorite lesson of all is what Baptists call the Sinner's Prayer. And, I'm going to briefly share that with you, so Grandma can plant a few more seeds even now that she's gone from this earth.

As mentioned, our salvation surely comes from our faith. The Sinner's Prayer is the way she came to declare her faith. (Me too!) I'm sure this is not the only way to come to declare one's faith or become a Christian; but we like it because it's simple, not overly-Theological, and it covers all the basis in what we call, the Roman's Road. (A path through the biblical book of Romans that outlines how to "get to Heaven" or "be saved".)

Step One: Acknowledging your sin. Romans 3:23 tells us that, "All have sinned and come short of the glory of God." We're bad, we're flawed. I don't think any of us could deny this. Even the holiest person you know has had a bad thought, a slip-up, or a moment of vanity that separated them from the perfection of God. This is an easy acknowledgement. To start the Sinner's Prayer, you simply tell God, "I know I'm a sinner. I know I'm not perfect." (Or, your own version of this profession. There are no magic words. Just, with honesty, tell God, "I know I can be bad.")

Step Two: Acknowledging where sin will get you and the help that He sent for us. Romans 6:23 says, "For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord." Romans 5:8, "But, God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us." Because we sin, we deserve to die one day. We deserve to be separated from God and His holiness. BUT, God sent to us a savior, His Son, Jesus Christ. To take on the death caused by our sins (think of the Good Friday story.) "While we were still sinners..." Even though He knows that we're never going to be perfect, He still offered that sacrifice for us, giving us a way to find eternal life. He's not waiting for us to straighten up our act first. He's not requiring any huge life changes to accept this gift. This leads to the next sentence of our prayer, "I'm sorry for the bad I've done. I know I can't get to Heaven on my own. Thank you for sending Jesus as a way."

Step Three: Ask for it! Romans 10:9,"If you confess with your mouth, Jesus as Lord, and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved." Not only did Jesus die for our sins. But, God raised Him from the dead (think of Easter) to conquer the permanence of death. He proved to us He has power over human death and is offering us eternal life in Heaven, if we're willing to take it. It's free! Romans 10:13, "For everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved." EVERYone. Not just the rich who can afford to give to charity. Not just the goody-goodies who aren't going to drink beer or have sex outside of marriage. Not just the people who commit their lives to professional ministry. ANYone who calls on God can go to Heaven. Even you! Just as you are. Last part of our prayer, "Please forgive me for my sins. I want to go to Heaven when I leave this earth. I believe that Jesus was your Son. I thank Him for dying to cover the price of my sins. I believe you rose Him from the dead and I accept your gift of salvation. I invite You into my life today."

Boom! If you prayed that prayer with belief in your heart, you're saved. Grandma would be so happy!

You now have access to God Almighty. He can give you peace when you ask for it in the most unbearable of circumstances. He can answer your prayers in the most unbelievable of ways. He can give you the best advice by helping you understand The Bible when you're reading it. And, He'll introduce you to my grandma when you go to Heaven one day.

She got to go Home! Not only did Grandma insist we all learn about Jesus all throughout our lives. She also ended her life proving that He's really here. This came as a great comfort to those of us who've ever wondered if we're wasting our lives believing in this guy so many refer to as a fairy tale.

In her hospice room, standing in the corner, she saw Him visit. Sometimes wearing a white robe. Sometimes in what she called His "work clothes". What His work clothes looked like, we may never know. She never described them beyond that. But, obviously, He was doing His work in them, so that's good enough for me!

She continued to tell people about God and about Jesus, even on her deathbed. I'll bet every nurse and aide that crossed the threshold of her hospice room heard her praise Him.

One day, when she saw Jesus visit her, He told her that she was going Home soon. And, He didn't lie. She went. He took her Home on Sunday, June 7, 2015.

He kept her here just long enough to inspire me to write this entry. Then her work was finally done. Because, she found one last way to tell someone about Jesus.

Praying Hard

Years ago---in the year 2000, to be exact---I started a website on Yahoo's now defunct Geocities called Pray Hard.  Prayer has always been my main ministry in The Body (I'm shy, I'm feeble and I'm certainly no speaker!)  I had been studying intercession around that time and had one of those godly callings in the middle of the night.  You know?  Those times when you're fast asleep and are suddenly awaken by a fully formed idea that pops into your head uninvited.  One that is too wise to have been formulated on its own and that, other than in the case of divine intervention, has no business being there.

Well, the revelation that caused me to get out of bed and write it down in the middle of the night, lest I forget it by morning, was that we simply don't pray enough for others.  Maybe we pray for a selected band of others; our families, our loved ones, those people with specific requests on those pamphlets they hand out at church... and, of course, ourselves.  But, what if everyone in the world had someone praying for them.  Regularly.  Not just people you know.  Not just people you like. 

Well, being the sometimes overly-organized person I can be, I immediately devised a system.  With I Timothy 2:1-2 as my mission statement: "I exhort therefore, that...intercessions, be made for all men; For kings, and for all that are in authority; that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and honesty." the Pray Hard system was set into motion.

It's a simple system.  But, to really work, it's a system that takes commitment.  I implemented it in my own life and set time aside for it every morning, still, these twelve years later.  Are you ready?

Here's how it works [lifted and abridged from the old website]:

THE IDEA: If every believer would pray for a different 20 people every day, within 28-day cycles, we would each cover 560 people a month in prayer.  If 100 people would commit to doing this, 56,000 lives would be touched.  1,000 people would reach over half-a-million lives!  But, don't worry about the math, I've got that covered.  You say you don't even know 560 people?  Keep reading...

THE BENEFACTORS: This system covers so much more than just your inner circle.  Each day you're to include: Five family members: Don't forget extended family and the in-laws; Five friends: People you converse with on a pretty regular basis; Five aquaintances: People you may not be as close to as your regular confidants. These can be co-workers, neighbors, people you grew up with but have lost contact with, people whose names "ring a bell"... any name that can be placed with a face; One church leader: Your pastors, teachers, mentors, Christian organizations you may be involved with (ie. Church camps, your alma-mater, charities, missionaries) and their administrators; Three public figures: Movie stars, tv personalities, musicians, political figures... go for the gold here. They may just  seem like faces on billboards to you, but they're people too.  And, they're included in the "all  men" that I Timothy mentions. Be sure to use people whose work you admire as well as people you can't stand hearing about.  Add some Christian entertainers to the mix too.  They could certainly use our spiritual support, being all out there, exposed, targeted by the enemy;  One stranger: You may not know their names and that's fine. God knows them personally.  It can be a homeless person you tossed a dime to, a woman you saw crying in the restroom, a friendly store clerk, a person you saw on a talk show that you just took pity on... doesn't matter.  Be creative, be compassionate, be sincere.

THE PROCESS: Realistically, you're going to have to write this stuff down.  Reserve a notebook strictly for your intercessions.  Have a page for each day of the cycle.  (Remember, a cycle consists of 28 days. Four Mondays, four Tuesdays, four Wednesdays... you get it. A month!)  Label the top of each page from "Monday 1", "Tuesday 1"... all the way through "Sunday 4" (ie. Monday of the first week through Sunday of the 4th week.) and fill in the names of the people you're going to be praying for each day.  It is hard to think of 560 people at first, so feel free to recycle names.  You may have a small family and not have five new names for all 28 days of the month, so go ahead and repeat if you need to.  Praying for somebody more than once a month doesn't hurt!  New names will come to you as you get into the groove.

Prayer Book sample page

I use a small spiral notebook for my prayer book that I keep in my nightstand for easy, early morning, access.  You may prefer a Word doc, a spreadsheet, a computerized task list or... is there an app for that?  As long as you jot it down somehow.  You will not remember 560 names on recall.  I don't care if you're Rain Man.  Just, make your life easier and write it down! 

Praying for twenty people a day, you'll find is quite bite-sized.  It can take a mere few minutes, using a simple sentenced prayer for each person, or you can spend as long as you like in time and detail.

I've seen amazing things happen over the course of my twelve years of praying hard.  It doesn't take up much of my day, but it has a great effect on it!  Seeing prayers answered is such a sweet feeling.  It's a particularly new feeling when you begin to see people on your Public Figures lives changed.  Some celebrities on my list have shocked me by going to rehab (when I didn't realize they had a problem), made public confessions (when I didn't know they were hurting) and made professions of faith (when I didn't know they were searching).  Don't get me wrong, I'm not taking the credit.  After all, it wasn't even my idea!  But, when you begin to pray for anyone on a regular basis, you form an unspoken bond with them where you can't help but cheer them on.  Even the ones I made you put on your list that you don't even like!

In the past, people have contacted me through the old webpage to see if they could borrow this system for their Sunday School classes or church prayer groups.  Yes!  This is not intellectual property.  Remember, it wasn't even my idea!  The whole purpose is to get as many people committing to their 560 people as possible.  Use the system if you feel called to.  Share it, tweak it, improve upon it... Then, go forth and pray hard!

(And, if you have a fun or inspiring "answered prayer" story, share it in the comments field below.  Because, everybody loves that kind of stuff!)