Learning to Pray on a Tractor
Margaret Broersma
My friend, Darlene, was five years old when her dad decided she was old enough to help him bring in the hay. The oldest of four siblings, he chose her because he needed help. It didn’t matter if you were a boy or a girl; in her family you helped where you are needed. Darlene had heard her parents pray at the table, and either of them may pray aloud during family devotions, but she herself had yet to utter a word to God.
She loved it when her daddy put her in his lap and drove the tractor. But on this day he said, “Today you are going to drive the tractor while I pick up the hay.” The tractor idled at the end of the row of baled hay. Holding her hands in his, he showed her the difference between turning the wheel and driving a straight line. And then he got down. He told her that all she had to do was keep her eyes straight ahead and keep the steering wheel straight, and he would jump back on when it was time to turn around.
Darlene was terrified! She was only five! She knew she could keep her eyes ahead, but could she really keep that wheel straight? She suddenly prayed out loud for all she was worth, “Help me God! Help me drive this tractor!” And in her heart, she continued to pray as they moved slowly down a row and her dad threw the hay bales on the wagon behind. She did indeed keep the wheel straight. When they got to the end of the row, her dad jumped back on just in time, turned the tractor, lined it up with the next row, and when he got down, she once again kept the wheel straight.
As they moved up and down the rows, she continued to pray for help from God, and eventually toward the end of the day, she realized her prayers had become prayers of thanksgiving. She had done it! She was only five and she had driven the tractor! She was proud, but mostly, she was thankful. As they walked to the house she realized that not only had she learned to drive the tractor that day, she had learned to pray. Throughout her life she would tell the story of the first day she drove a tractor and the first time she prayed.
- - - - - - - - - -
Another friend of mine also learned to pray on the farm; but her story is one of fear and desperation. It happened one evening when her grouchy dad looked out the window and saw that the barn door stood open. This was one of those wide and tall barn doors, big enough to accommodate the tallest of farm equipment. She went out to the barn and stood there, a very little girl, looking up at the huge door resting open on its track. How could she possibly close this door? She knew if she didn’t obey her dad she would be in big trouble, probably a spanking. She felt afraid and desperate.
She believed she was way too little to shut such a big door. On the other hand, she had grown up with people around her praying all the time. Without thinking about prayer, her heart simply cried out to God, “Please God, help me shut this door!” And God did hear. She reached up, and sliding it along the track, she closed the barn door. To this day, she says she could not have closed that door if not for the Lord. From that moment on, she began a life of prayer, talking to God, both aloud and quietly from her heart. She learned to pray at the barn door.
- - - - - - - - - -
I also learned to pray while living on a farm. But it was in the coziness of our living room while on our big sofa. My brother and I snuggled in on each side of our mom, with my dad looking on, she told us to repeat after her. We learned, “Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray that the Lord my soul to keep.” And then, after the memorized line, we would ask God to bless mommy and daddy and baby Frances and bless people on and on throughout our extended family. As we got older, the more independent our prayers became, until we were modeling the prayers of our parents. From hearing them address God in a personal way every night, with both request and thanksgiving, we learned to pray with passion - always out loud. We also learned, through practice, to listen to the promptings in our heart to pray for different things and for other people. We did this before we had a language for it. Eventually we learned to tell someone, “God laid you on my heart today, and I prayed for you.” We learned that this prompting came from the Holy Spirit.
The biggest night for my prayer life was when at the age of seven, I told God I believed in Jesus as my Savior. I asked Jesus to forgive my sins and to please come live in my heart. I had never heard of covenant baptism or “being in the covenant.” But I do know that my parents felt the greatest responsibility they had was to teach each of us to know God in a personal way and to know how to pray. To this day, it is my five siblings with whom I love to pray the most. Through Facebook Messenger or conference calling, we have “prayer meetings” with one another most weekends. I’m so thankful that I grew up in a praying family.
- - - - - - - - - -
If you didn’t grow up in a praying family, and you think you don’t know how to pray, take heart from the stories of these three little girls. Remember that praying is simply talking to God. You may want to thank Him for who He is, what He has done'/is doing, and, of course, you may request of Him anything you like and He will answer according to His will.
Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know.
- Jeremiah 33:3