“This sounds strange,” I apologized, “but I’m praying for pixie dust.”
I might as well have vacuumed all the air out of the room. While a few stared uncomfortably at me, more than a dozen eyes darted back and forth in an almost unanimous expression: what have we gotten ourselves into?
I kept talking. “More than anything, what I long for is our God, the one who bedazzled the heavens razzle-dazzled that the earth, to meet us in such a way during our time in Scotland that we find ourselves awestruck by his goodness and generosity, his provision and presence. I’m praying for pixie dust. I want to leave here with a sense of wonderment as we encounter and experience things only God can do.”
One by one the members of the team exhaled, a welcome sign they were extending grace to me. A few even smiled.
Louie, a pastor whose short gray hair and mustache framed twinkling youthful eyes, broke the silence.”Margaret, I think what you’re asking for something me and my boys pray for often. You’re asking for the favor of God. We pray for God’s favor in both good times and bad — that we’d sense the reality that we’re one of God’s children, one of God’s favorites, and wait expectantly for what God will do.”
With those words, Louie became one of my favorite members of the team. In closing our devotional time together, we prayed with boldness for pixie dust.
When I returned to my room that night, I tucked myself into bed. The European down comforter left me feeling warm, snug, and enveloped by thousand feathers. God had reawakened a sense of divine expectation. Though God had been at work in my life in countless ways — revealing so many wonders — I realized that deep down inside I still backed away from living each day with holy anticipation.
Praying for pixie dust was an invitation for God to lavish our team with his lovingkindness, and for each of us to walk more upright, eyes attentive to what God might do next. You can’t pray for pixie dust and maintain a dour demeanor or dreary disposition. The Mary Poppins of all prayers, asking for pixie dust is hard to do with a without a frolicsome smile on your face, a playful cheer in your spirit, a holy anticipation of how God may answer.
Now, praying for pixie dust is not magic whereby if you say the right words — “abracadabra,” “suoicodilaipxecitsiligarfilcrepus” or “à la peanut butter sandwiches” — something marvelous happens. That’s wishful thinking. A prayer marked by faith is never about what happens on our terms or timelines, but God’s. Faith-stained prayer brings us to a place of trust and hope. Praying for pixie dust is a childlike expression of trust and hope — trusting in both God’s wisdom and winsomeness, finding hope in God’s mercy and mirth.