Prayer Is Talking To God, Not Preaching Or An Nouncement

Things that make an old Christian cringe:

The praying believer speaks in the first person, "I, me, or maybe we", and talks to God in the second person, "thou, thee, or you". Or by calling on His name or title.  But if the public "prayer" addresses God in the third person, as "he or him" it is no longer prayer but is either for instruction or for influencing whoever else is present, be it a person, group, or congregation.  In which case, it may either be detached preaching or teaching, but is clearly not prayer when we talk about Him instead of to Him, in public prayer.  this isn't done in silent prayer, but is a common transgression in public prayer, and is cringeworthy.      "Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done ...." Lk.11:2

Another thing that makes an old Christian cringe is jokes about God or hell. There is nothing funny about hell. It is a real place where the unbelieving sinners will spend eternity suffering and separated from God.  Neither is it ever appropriate to joke about our Creator, the Almighty, Gloriously Holy, Ruler of the universe.  Kittens and monkeys verify that God has a sense of humor, and he may laugh at us, but the mud doll, with the breath of God in it, does not use it to make fun of its resplendently holy Creator and King. Only worship, love, and submission are in order where God is concerned.   "Thou shalt not  take the name of the Lord thy God in vain ...."  

Exodus 20:7.      "in vain" means "Lightly or without reverence." 

 There are a lot of things done today in churches and in the lives of Christians that should make even sinners cringe, but the thing that makes me cringe almost violently is when a flesh-serving temptation flies into my eyes, ears, or thoughts like a beautiful, white dove but which I recognize as a sharp, hooked-beak messenger of Satan with talons and red eyes.  At 91 a cringe like that is enough to burn up your last drop of oil, suck out your final breath of air, and slam the door on that satin-lined box bed with your name on it.