Princess Band-Aids and Prayer

Yesterday my family gathered for Father's Day festivities. And since I don't drive, my older sister generously offered me a ride home. Anyway, my almost-three-year-old niece has a small blister on her toe, and not too long after we had entered the freeway, she asked: "Mommy, when we get home, can I have a princess Band-Aid?" My sister replied that they would see about the Band-Aid when they got home.

A few minutes later and a few decibels louder, my niece repeated the question: "Mommy, can I have a princess Band-Aid?" Again, my sister told her daughter that they'd see about it when they got back home.

A few more minutes and a few more decibels louder, we heard the question a third time. Megan repeated her answer again. To be honest, I have no idea whether or not my niece received the much-requested Band-Aid by the time she got home.

Someone mentioned prayer today in church, and it suddenly dawned on me: sometimes when my prayers go unanswered, I do to Heavenly Father the same thing my niece was attempting to do with my sister last night. I think if I pray longer, louder, harder, or more earnestly, that I somehow might speed the process of getting an answer to prayers.

Whether or not my niece received her Band-Aid didn't matter much until she got home; it's not as though my sister keeps Band-Aids in the car. Heck, it's not as though my sister even knew which types of Band-Aids she had left at home. The answer needed to be postponed to fit my sister's timing.

In the same way, prayers go unanswered until the answers fit into Heavenly Father's timing. And I just need to remember: sometimes I don't need that Band-Aid as badly as I think I do. Sometimes the blister, the scrape, or the perceived injury is not in need of the quick fix I want. Sometimes I have to wait to see if I even need the Band-Aid as much as I think I do.

And I need to remember that He always gives me a Band-Aid exactly at the time I need it.