I used to “prayer walk” regularly then paused. How come? I had noticed I was spending less time praying through my neighborhood and more time coveting. Sure, I tossed up a few “Keep my kids safe, Lord” and “Help me be patient.”

But instead of praying

I spied 

this neighbor’s shiny new car

and that neighbor’s

lush, jungle green grass.

My prayer walk was all wrong. Something had to change. 

My prayer revealed a covetous heart

My focus on other people’s stuff revealed my covetous heart. I began to complain, not outwardly but inwardly.

Then I received a challenge from my author-friend Donna Partow, who wrote Becoming the Woman Wants Me to Be.

On day 22, Donna’s online accountability community read the chapter “Walk to Boost Energy.” While everyone knows walking is good for your health, she recommends we use our walks to pray.

Oh, NO! Not THAT!

So I prayed about praying. Then tried again, using a particular strategy: Recite Psalm 23 while walking.

God used Psalm 23 to renew my mind

Before the walks led me to awful places, like in-my-head yelling matches: Me versus me. Not peaceful!

Now I lingered in lush grass and by quiet waters. These word pictures from Psalm 23 soothed my soul and calmed me. It proved the perfect antidote to a stressful day of getting the kids off to school, working at my laptop, doing household chores, making dinner, and negotiating siblings’ squabbles.

My new prayer walk went like this:

“The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not be in want.”

Okay, God, you know I’m sick of my minivan. It’s 10 years old and banged up. I’d love the silver Audi I just walked by, but you know my needs. And I don’t need an Audi. I’m thankful I have a car that runs.

“He makes me lie down in green pastures.”

Oh, yes, rest! Thank you, Lord, for the reminder that I need rest and that it’s good. It’s not a luxury. I don’t have to run around like a manic squirrel, digging holes to hide my acorns. I can say “No!” (nicely, of course) to the book fair coordinator at the school. I can and should breathe.

Or, later in the psalm: “You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.”

Not everyone is going to like me, Lord. I know that. I will have “enemies” for one reason or another. Maybe my kid teased my neighbor’s kid and now she gives me the cold shoulder. I am thankful that you act as the host and place me at the table with lots of food – and chocolate, of course – while those who hate me cannot touch me. You are my protector.

As my prayer walk ends, I feel a little sad. Praying through this psalm has cheered me. I sensed God’s peace.

Tomorrow? I think I’ll find a longer route.