When I was in middle school, we had a roller skating party. For some reason, my mom took the completely unreasonable position that since I hadn’t cleaned my room, I couldn’t go. I railed against the injustice of it all. Then, I went and cleaned my room.

Feeling like I’d out-maneuvered her, I asked her again if I could go.

“No,” she said. ”I told you already.”

“Yeah, but I cleaned my room.”

"Only after I told you couldn't go."

"But Mom, this is really important. Carmen is going to be there.” (Carmen was my sixth-grade girlfriend. It was pretty serious.)

"I guess you should have thought of that when you decided not to clean your room."

"But I did clean my room."

"I'm not having this discussion with you."

"Come on, Mom!"

Over and over again.

To my mom, it must have felt like being tied up in a room and forced to watch Ted Cruz read Green Eggs and Ham on an endless loop.

She finally gave in and let me go roller skating. But not before she said, "Don't ever pull this again. When I tell you 'no,' don't keep asking. This is ridiculous!”

I assured her I wouldn't … but I mean, come on. I didn't consider it at the time, but being annoying can be a workable strategy for getting what you want.

That's how I grew up thinking about this parable of the widow and the unjust judge. She pestered the judge until he finally caved. If you squint just right, it's not too difficult to feel bad for the judge.

The lesson I took away from it—because Jesus uses this parable to talk about praying—is that if you want something from God, you just have to be prepared to annoy God like a relentlessly exasperating 12-year-old until you get what you want.

As I got older, I started to think there was more art to the widow's pleas. She wasn't just irritating; she was clever—maybe even manipulative.

When I was not too long out of seminary in my first church, somebody had the bright idea that we needed a pictorial directory. (If you've never tried to organize one of those things, you have no idea the headache and grief involved in getting appointments set up, collecting the information from each family, checking to make sure the company didn't misspell Ms. Ollie's name … because, Lord knows, that would have long-lasting consequences for nuclear disarmament and the stability of the free world.)

Anyway, after the pictures had been taken, one woman came to my office and spluttered, "I have a complaint!”

"What's the matter?"