Erik and I have a very sweet 12-year-old in our lives who we love. This year she got braces. Now I never had braces, by my older sister did, so I know a little about them — and living with people who have them.
 
There are restrictions on what you can eat.
You have to floss your teeth with a special tool.
And every few weeks the braces are tightened or a thicker wire is put in.
 
There’s pain in the process. How could there not be? The braces are designed to reform your entire mouth. It’s done slowly, I assume in part of minimize pain, but still, the pain is there, and after the last appointment, the sweet 12-year-old was not happy.
 
Ice cream wouldn’t help.
Shopping couldn’t take the ache away.
She had to just sit with it.
 
In the midst of her pain, her dad texted Erik and I and told us she wasn’t feeling well and was quite uncomfortable. So we did the only thing we could think to do. We prayed.
 
Afterward, we texted her dad back to tell him we’d prayed for her, and he passed the message on to her. About two minutes later, both Erik’s and my phones buzzed.
 
“I told her you prayed for her,” her dad wrote. “She said, ‘Well, I don’t feel any better!”
 
We burst out laughing. The text message emojis flying back and forth on the group chat.
 
But as I laughed, I also felt a little jealous. Not of her pain, but of her ability to say how she truly felt, without pretense, and presumably without fear of what we thought of her response.
 
I think God wants the same kind of relationship with us. He wants us to feel loved enough and safe enough to tell him how we feel. How we really feel. Without lofty words, without unnecessary fluff. After all, in Matthew 6:7-8, Jesus tells us as much.
 
“And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him.” (NIV)
 
God knows what I need.
He knows what you need.
He knows what that sweet little 12-year-old needs.
 
He doesn’t need us to come to Him with eloquent essays or a list of arguments as to why He should answer our prayer. Instead, He wants us to just come to Him and tell him how we feel. And that means at times, “But Lord, it still hurts!” is the truest and most beautiful prayer I — or you — could ever pray.