There was a line of people at my Personal Lottery Central. The people stood very quiet in eerie silence. In my little town, people talk to each other. It’s hard to meet a stranger. But today was different. No one made eye contact. No one nodded in greeting. Was the place being robbed? As casually as I could, I looked around for someone up to no good. Nope. Nothing bad happening. It was just quiet.
I quietly took my place at the end of the line. We all just stood there, each quiet with our own thoughts.
When it’s quiet, my thoughts go to prayer. Quite frankly, I pray a lot. I am always telling God what to do. Now, I wouldn’t pray to win the lottery. That seems a waste of the Almighty’s power. I don’t judge someone else for praying to win, and as you know, I’m not above trying to bribe the Fates with generous plans for the money. But asking That Which Holds All The Power In The Universe to manipulate a bunch of little white balls just on my whim, that is taking my self-centeredness to the nth extreme.
However, thinking about prayer led me to think about sending out streams of psychic power. I’ve often wondered if prayer was some sort of power current. Could my thoughts start as little creeks of power that grow and merge and expand into a Mississippi River-sized rushing force? As I stood in quietly waiting my turn, I imagined a mighty river of thought pushing its way from my mind into that pile of little white balls, rolling them, manipulating them, shoving them to fall in just the order I wanted.
I imagined my mighty thoughts doing that and thought those mighty thoughts the whole time I quietly stood in line. I thought them as I quietly bought my lottery ticket. I thought them as I quietly left the store. My mighty thoughts all flooding, surging, crashing into the lottery bowl. My mighty thoughts…
…had no effect at all.