The Problem of Prayer: Where My Search Began

I just got done reading the chapter on prayer in the "Why I Became an Atheist" book. It was one of the more interesting chapters to me because it really was where my search began. It was such a problem to me that I even brought it up to a therapist I saw years ago. I wanted to know why prayer seemed such an arbitrary thing - why is it some prayers got answered and some prayers didn't (or, in the minds of many Christians, why does God say "no" to some things). Her answer, predictibly, had to do with the level of faith of the intercessors. At the time I bought it because I so desperately wanted to keep believing, and it helped maintain my illusions.

But my doubts didn't stop. The problem of prayer and the problem of evil are two things that I find absolutely insurmountable in proving the veracity of Christianity, but for the sake of space, I'm just going to deal with the prayer thing here.

I have a 6 year old son, the youngest of 3 boys, who has never been quite well physically. Last year he was hospitalized a number of times; the first was for a video EEG to diagnose his epilepsy, and the others were for bowel cleanouts for his chronic constipation. He's been hospitalized several times since birth; we have such an extensive collection of hospital bracelets that I don't even keep them anymore. He was born with an enlarged kidney, a suspected exposed spinal cord (luckily it was not), but most importantly, a defect called imperforate anus, meaning the hole in his bottom was closed at birth. He had that fixed so that he could have bowel movements, but he's had problems with chronic constipation ever since.

I distinctly remember one of the faith-testing moments in caring for this particular digestive malady. He hadn't gone in well over a week. He was likely going to be hospitalized soon. I can't remember how old he was - possibly 3 or 4. And as I had done many, many times, I sat on the floor of the bathroom while he sat on the toilet, trying mightily to empty himself and be rid of the pain it was causing. And I sat there, alternately encouraging him and willing him to just go, and praying. And I thought, if God answered this prayer, would it hurt anyone else? Would it conflict with someone else's prayer? I couldn't see how it would, and I didn't understand why in the world he wouldn't help my little boy with such a simple thing. I prayed and prayed (and cried), and he sat and sat...and of course, nothing happened.

This is such a small and maybe to some, not even noteworthy, account of inaction by a supposedly benevolent and loving God. A mother cried out for her child to just feel comfort for a moment - not even a complete healing, just a temporary reprieve - and he either didn't care, or couldn't help, or simply would not help. And that is not the God I was taught existed.

I could give countless other examples, and I am sure many others could as well. George Carlin does a bit where he compares praying to Joe Pesci with praying to God and seeing what the success rate is (about 50/50 for each). Is that the kind of success rate you'd want from the Supreme Being?

It just isn't enough for me.