THE moment the television cameras and monitors picked me up, a swift telegram prayer shot heavenward... “Oh Lord, keep mind and mouth in sync.”

I was starting a two-hour talk phone-in stint on Sky’s Genesis Channel re the problems of paganism, the occult and yesterday’s Hallowe’en, and the last thing I needed was to dissolve into a gibbering wreck, as happened on one mind-blowing occasion.

Then, I was sharing a TV couch with an old friend, Cynthia Payne, the infamous former bordello owner.

She was pontificating superbly about the ‘pros’ of prostitution, while my description of the ‘cons’ was descending into a meandering drivelling hash.

Enlisting divine help in times of strife and stress is what we fumbling humans are often about.

This week’s favourite for many has been “Oh Lord, sort out the bankers!”

A couple of weeks ago the holiday plane plummeted into yet another depression and many scared-rigid minds probably screamed inwardly “GOD, don’t let’s crash!”

When not stressing in studios or pulpits, relaxing retirement is increasingly reminding me God is more than a slot machine for which the coinage is my prayers.

I’m remembering again that He’s the treat, not so much the things he gives us. I can actually enjoy Jesus without wanting anything in exchange.

Old mystics like John of the Cross and Brother Lawrence knew this was far more important that using God to make life better. There was, and is, knowing God.

“To know God” Jesus explained once, “His life – eternal life.”