I did it all the time whether I had lost my keys, phone or even a cute pair of shoes buried in my closet. Looking back now I find it hilarious. Why did I really think God was going to stop worrying about any of the real problems in the world to help my find my shoes?

What things did you pray for that looking back seem silly?

I still pray to find lost stuff, and it still works. I guess my apostasy hasn't pissed off Goddess too much.

Like in this latest resign magazine?

Recently I moved to a new home and asked some Church members to help me with a project at my house. In the middle of the project, I left to buy some materials that we needed to finish. After we finished the project, I realized I didn’t have my wallet. I panicked because inside my wallet were all my personal documents along with money I had just received from a client that morning. I retraced my steps to where I’d made the purchases but didn’t have any luck. I went home and searched to see if I had dropped it somewhere, but I still didn’t find it. I began considering the possibility that I would have to acquire new copies of all the documents. Then before leaving my home, a friend asked, “Have you prayed yet?”

I immediately thought, “Of course I’ve prayed already!”

But in reality, I had not prayed with real intent. Instead, I wanted to force my will on Heavenly Father and somehow make it His duty to help me find my wallet. But then I remembered the scripture in Isaiah 55:8: “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord.”

On Sunday I went to church, and a member who had been with me the day before told me that he had prayed fervently to Heavenly Father that I might find my wallet. He said he had felt that I would find it. Later, as I sat down for my personal study, I began reading Receiving Answers to Our Prayers by Elder Gene R. Cook, emeritus member of the Seventy. The first page told a story with a problem identical to mine: Elder Cook’s son lost his wallet, so the family gathered together and prayed to the Lord that they would find it.

After reading that experience, I put what I learned into practice and gathered my wife and children together. We formed a circle, and each person offered a prayer, imploring the Lord to help us find the wallet if it were His will.

I had previously witnessed the power of prayer, but afterward, as I prayed in private, I asked Heavenly Father to answer our prayer in order to strengthen the faith of my wife and children.

The next day a man called me. He said he had found my wallet, including the money. I wept like a child because my prayer was answered and my family’s faith was strengthened.

I know that Heavenly Father, even with so many children to attend to, responds to each of us according to His time and in His way.

This last paragraph contradicts the whole thing. IOW, even not finding his wallet is HF responding in his own way. Such foolishness.

I pray to remember why I just walked into the kitchen, holding a pen and a baseball cap that says "Panama" on it.

My daughter lost her wallet at Walmart with a lot of money and someone returned it with all the money.

My son lost his wallet with $260 in it at the theater my daughter worked at. We are sure the custodians found the wallet. We were at the late movie waiting for her to get done working and nobody was in our movie. But the person left the wallet and took the money. He was LDS. Had to be him.

Now the one big one was when my dog wandered off on July 4th years ago. I was desperate. I had been walking around the neighborhood in my stocking feet screaming for my dog. This went on for a few hours. My kids and their dad got home from their California trip while this was going on. My daughter went out in the front yard and the dog walked up.

Lost another dog for 1-1/2 hours a few years ago. I talk to my dad now about things like this. I found him.

Nope....and then stuff just shows up in unexpected places and I go hmmmmm.....

First I believe my house and lots of things in it was out of my direct control , when I shared it with so many people (children husband children's friends) while holding a full time salaried job. Things were moved and showing up pretty chaotically visually between counters drawers shelves say in the kitchen , as multiple unsupervised cooks utilized the kitchen. For me, it was the worst (ever heard that best of times worst of times refrain?) The chaos increasingly left me begging god in a prayer internally as in "oh god" for my keys or mixer spinners or socks and turtleneck shirt as my daughter would wear them unbeknownst occasionally and put in laundry or beneath her rumpled T s on the floor by her bed intermittently . Between family medical turmoil, and the kids tumor apt , biopsies , or follow ups, all sandwiched into a shared kitchen. Let me begin: Did you ever think life's chaos would would find you praying ?
At one point when seeking and searching for something, I thought god hated me. But I allowed others to cook, and tear apart my kitchen, stashing, stacking, and casting apart my tools. Yet the Mormony: "live for others, give your life, be a mother, be a wife" required this of me. I Truely thought seeking a grater for my cheese (the time for seeking contradicting the determination of sacrificing high calories casa dia for food rapidity) continued to assault me making my life hesitate, a halty pause -jerk, stop- restart series of assaults on implementing task after task; as family (that god commanded me to have)took tools needed for tasks cast aside near arbitrarily,not logically , while I was at work, or asleep. It was like living with mad 'house elves ' who, instead of serving you (like in Harry Potter ) tore the house up apart when ever you sleep or left from work -you awake to tools ,pots ,utensils in a different place every time you wake or return home from work or even step into the place. its like a wave with a tide of people moving utilizing tools tumbling in their wake.

Second ,when the house or kitchen is not cooked in by others, things are where I placed them. I reach without looking and the spoon or spatula is in my hand as I stand stirring at the stove. I turn and reach, and what I intended to touch is there. part of allowing and requiring my teen then young adult daughters gain strength or independence cost me in my kitchen which I so freely shared with them...right down to hefting their favorite pots or utensils launching them I see a tiny cast iron frying pan still in single egg duty use each time I visit Alaska..its little handle gripped by a seven year old now closer to 37 hand holding the handle of that now, well seasoned pan.

I built meaningful containers or stand alone totes or bags and that is helping with things like knitting or drawing or writing, tools have places. Many others hands than mine used to utilize these tools, or sew their trashed jeans into skirts on my sewing machine -supplies dancing around a counter of myriad drawers. trim, and tools ,thread and spools ,rolling away with Needle packets long lost to me sharing my sewing space ...painting supplies that my daughters might one day dance in their own painting life's win.

Finally, I can find my things without praying -because brilliant other people are no longer using this place, these beads . that basket. endlessly moving and repositioning my things - the tools of my life.

oh lets not get to back with shared computer oh the lost poetry sharing tools, stationary, computers and desk with my daughters and husband. lets not talk about rings and rocks and the fossils of life long lost in the tumble of time as those folks walked through mine mining my life as I was a mother and wife.

Prayer yes. To touch what tool I need not necessarily. I find I can always find what I need as I proceed through my routine. It's getting better. All the time. I even convinced my husband to keep a box of tools for riveting handles or attachments onto bags sorted at hand with spare washers and rivots. No tearing apart cupboards to find them, he keeps them nearby with his awl Leather mallet and stamp hole for stitching tool.

While sharing may be caring it really had me praying fir a while before I stopped sharing so much and could gather my tools together in a reasonable place, in a logical pace (routine) /i.e. Accessing - everything



Edited 5 time(s). Last edit at 03/23/2017 03:52PM by paintinginthewin.

One day I came home from town after visiting several stores. (this was back in the day when I was still a believer) I noticed my wallet wasn't in my pocket and not in the car. My first thought was to ask gawd for some help but then he likes it when a person tries to help themselves first so I looked and looked. Nope, no wallet.

In all of my wisdom I figgered that it had to be at the last store I was at. I couldn't have left it at any other store or I wouldn't have had it to make a purchase at the last store I was at. /slap-self for be so brilliant. I phoned the store but they hadn't had anyone turn in a wallet.

It was then that I got down on my knees and implored of gawd to help me. Jesus, I was becoming distraught. I mentally retraced my steps from the last purchase I had made until I was inside my home and noticed the wallet was missing. I knew that gawd wouldn't leave me in a bind even though he has many times in the past.

As I looked and looked I kept seeing the same empty wrapping from McDonald's on the kitchen table along with the sacks of groceries I had carried in. In my trip from the car to the house I had carried almost all of my purchases, just trying to be efficient you know. I passed by the outside garbage cans and I remember distinctly dropping the empty food wrapper in the trash can. But here it was, on the table.

Now I'm not a brilliant man, sometimes I'm a dodo. I had mentally completed the task of throwing away the empty food wrapper like my brain was told to do. My last purchase was at the fast food outlet and I had placed my wallet on the seat instead of back in my pocket as it was hard to put it back while wearing a seat belt. Once home I carried all of my stuff into the house and put it on the table.

The light bulb over my head came on, it's only a 25 watt bulb sometimes. I walked out to the garbage can and there was my wallet sitting there proud as punch. Of course I thanked Jesus, after all it was him helping me right?

and then you might think more clearly and remember...

Its not completely hocus-pocus.

Prayer can help - to calm one down and, in such a state, finding is easier. Hence, I will very quickly pray for calmness and I usually find what I am looking for.

But I have been missing a card for months to no avail.

Yeah, I prayed to find the "god" that supposedly existed that I couldn't find.

I got nothin'.

I prayed to regain my mental wellbeing and self-esteem. It only made things worse.

If god exists and I see him after I die I am going to ask him if he ever helped anyone find their keys. If he says yes, I am going to say, "YOU PRICK! A child dies every two minutes from malaria! Millions don't have enough to eat! While you were helping find someone's keys women and children were crying out to you for help while being raped! Now, if you will show me to the door I will be going now, and I hope to never see your face again. Oh, and did I mention you a prick?"

I should proof read my posts more carefully.

Last sentence: " Oh, and did I mention you're a prick?"

Only my sanity

My husband abandoned me and our children, and said he would not give us any money, and that he didn't care what happened to us, then vanished from our life. He did this with a phone call. My children and I were snowed-in, in a cabin in the mountains, waiting to move into our new house, which suddenly we could no longer afford. My husband had sold our old house. The power went out, and we had no heat. Our phone went dead. We were all sick, plus I had IC, (a painful, incurable disease)--and I had never been so frightened in my life. Actually, it was the worst snow storm in history, there! We were fresh from California.

In the black night, I dug my way out the back door, away from the cabin, so the kids couldn't hear me, and screamed in anger, "OK, God--BRING IT ON!" It was not a prayer, but a curse.

We dug our way to the wood pile, built a fire, and brought all the mattresses and blankets near the fire. We had plenty of food, Tylenol, cough medicine. Two days later, a very handsome cowboy came up our driveway, his horse belly-deep in the snow. It was our nearest neighbor. He took a letter to the Post Office for us, and called my father. Another neighbor came down the road with a snow-plow truck, and we all unburied my car. My father had heard about the storm, and already had a flight booked from California. We were able to get our car to the main highway, to the airport. Dad loaned me the money to hire an attorney (didn't do much good, but made me feel like I was fighting for my kids) and to pay the new mortgage until I could find a job. We were feeling better, and there was a Christmas tree farm, about a half mile away, but we were snowed in again, so we had to walk. Dad bought a huge tree, and the kids in the area helped us drag the Christmas tree back home. I had brought our lights and ornaments with us, and by then, the power was back on. Everyone decorated the tree, and we had cocoa by the fire--it was like a Christmas movie--a Christmas we'll never forget!

I know who my Heavenly Father is--and it isn't the Mormon God.

Usually when people pray, help is already there. Our food and medicine and warmth were already there. My wonderful father was always there for us. The keys and wallet are already wherever they are.

Give credit to the nice people who return wallets, to the parents, doctors, nurses, attorneys, fireman, police, and others who are the REAL people who help us. God is somewhere else.

He taught me about "mindfulness." That means paying more attention to what you are doing "in the moment." I tend to do a lot of things on auto-pilot, which leaves room for error.

DH taught me to systematically re-trace what I was doing when I misplaced the item. . .and bingo! Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, that works. Actually, I can't think of a time when it didn't, so maybe it's a hundred per cent.

I prayed over them fervently. Still don't have em.

For me, praying works as often as not praying.

When my kids can't find stuff, I tell them it's most likely near where it should be, but underneath something. They've thanked me many time for that lesson.

Of course, I forget that myself. I have a pair of welding gloves I use for stoking the fire. Couldn't find one this morning and looked all over, mad at others for losing it. Then went back by the stove and there it was underneath a chunk of firewood.

So a loving Heavenly Father can listen to the prayers for food from a starving child (say) in Africa and do nothing ...

And then listen to the prayers of a white middle-class American citizen (say) who has lost his or her car keys and move Heavenly mechanisms to provide an answer to that?

Either 'Heavenly Father' does not exist or, if he does, that makes him a morally unconscionable louse.

I prayed thousands of times to find my lost testimony--I never found it.

Yes, and then I found it and swore it was the holy hoobywhatty.

One time I lost my wallet outside, and felt a feeling to go the police box, at least to report it, but also in Japan people always hand lost stuff in there.

Ofcourse, I didn't spot it on the table in there when I walked in. To me, the table was empty.

I have one eye only. It sees less than 2 metres. I sat down, looked out the window, and then when I looked back my wallet was there. Because the school children who I saw marching past me had picked it up and handed it in.
But I SWORE as part of my testimony that it was a miracle and when I had glanced at the sky, God had granted my prayer and put it on the table even though it wasn't there before!


We pick and choose from our five senses to build our own realities based on our beliefs and expectations.

Forgiveness.

What foolishness would compel me to beg a genocidal maniac for forgiveness?