For those of us struggling to carve out thirty minutes to an hour each day to pray,
“praying continuously” may seem daunting, if not impossible. And although I am sure
we have all experienced the occasional ‘extended prayer’ during times of trouble or
stress, we have so many obstructions to time alone with God: schedules, deadlines,
tasks to perform, car pools, bills to pay, interactions with people, taking notes at
some endless business meeting, or calculating a complex accounting formula or
preparing a budget analysis.
Surely, we think, it would be more accommodating to ‘pencil in’ a special time each
day specifically for prayer. And while a daily routine of prayer time is probably a good
first step to “praying continuously”, the great writers of the Bible speak with the
assumption of continuous prayer as being not only a very real possibility, but a given.
In I Thessalonians 5.17, Apostle Paul encourages Christ’s followers to “Pray without
ceasing.” To the Romans he says, “rejoice in your hope, be patient in tribulation, be
constant in prayer” (Romans 12.12 RSV). His appeal to the Ephesians was to “pray in
the Spirit at all times” (Ephesians 6.18). To the Philippians he said, “Don’t worry about
anything,
but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests
be made known to God” (Phil 4.6).
When I first came to St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church, I was immediately impressed with
what a praying church it was. I needed prayer in my life and never feeling my prayers
were all that effective, I left it to those wonderful prayer warriors to do their work. I felt
more comfortable diving into bible study, which I desperately needed too. But God seems
to always call me out of my “comfort zones”. I experienced some trials and I learned that
while bible study gives us a deeper understanding of God and His plan for His people
and His church, it was never meant to stand alone in developing a deepening relationship
with Him. Through bible study AND prayer He connects with each of us distinctly and
individually.
It still amazes me that the Creator of the universe has a unique plan for each one of us
and calls us each into a personal relationship with Him. It is within this realm of continuous
prayer where He shows us the “God’s View” of the world and we receive our “marching
orders” to do His will. It is where we share that intimate communion with Him through which
He equips us and reveals our unique purpose in His world. There, He strengthens us for
a life transforming and personal walk with Him. And through continuous prayer, He shows
us how to participate in the new world that He is bringing into being.
When life is battering us about and the cares of the world steer us off course or shake the
very foundation of our faith, if we haven’t developed a deep connection to our Savior,
where do we find our anchor? How do we hold on?
When I was very young my family faced a horrific tragedy, which produced overwhelming
uncertainties for my siblings and me. There seemed to be little gravity holding our world
together. Don’t get me wrong; I was and felt loved, even when our parents couldn’t
effectively care for us. I know this because into this nightmare God placed a periphery
of praying people who gave my life a glimmer of hope. In the midst of chaos, we received
a baseline of order, discipline and focus through the actions of caring neighbors, a
Sunday school teacher, and a great Aunt who stood beside us through it all. But it was
my grandmother who PRAYED. She prayed unceasingly. In fact, her whole life was a
prayer!
These examples and seeds of hope for a better life were planted into my young mind.
I nurtured this hope by going to Sunday school and Church. Although I went most times
by myself, I found it to be one of the few places I felt peace, comfort and a solid center
of reference. It was there in my small hometown Baptist church at the age of 10 that I
invited Jesus into my life.
Remember the radical transformation you experienced when you first placed your faith
in Jesus Christ? Maybe you envisioned, as in the artist’s rendition of Rev. 3:20, the
image of Jesus standing at the door of a lonely vine covered cottage patiently knocking
and waiting. But when we read the whole verse we discover he desires so much more
of us than just to “hear His voice and open the door”. He wants to come in and dine with
us and us with Him, move within us to do his will, dwell with us! He never forces his way
in though, and waits patiently for our answer.
It’s easy when you’re in a pit as I had been to pray, pray, pray for a new life, a different
life. And once “saved”, to be ever so thankful to have a new hope and a new identity in
Christ. But it’s hard for us to imagine that the One who saved us also wants a continued
and eternal relationship with us and has a unique plan for our lives.
So we fall into a pattern of letting God into our individual world on a “need to know” basis,
calling on Him in our dire circumstances like a genie to fix this; or heal that; or make this
happen, but not that! We’re saved, but we never move forward into the extravagant
dimensions of His love by allowing Him to fulfill His will through us, His new creation!
Why do we do this? I think for me, sometimes the radical concept of an approachable
and knowable God is more “comfortable” if it doesn’t include His moving in, and cleaning
or rearranging my “little vine covered cottage!” Or, maybe it is just too awesome to fathom
that when we first believed and He made us a new creation, He was and IS the new Life
we experience. And, dare we hope, He is the very air we breathe? What an intimate image
this produces in my mind!
Henri Nouwin in his book, Reaching Out, says this:
“There is probably no image that expresses so well the intimacy with God in prayer
as the image of God’s breath. We are like asthmatic people who are cured of their
anxiety. The Spirit has taken away our narrowness (the Latin word for anxiety is
angustia = narrowness) and made freedom, a new life. This new life is the divine life
of God himself. Prayer, therefore, is God’s breathing in us, by which we become
part of the intimacy of God’s inner life. So, the paradox of prayer is that it asks for a serious effort while it can only be received as a gift. We cannot plan, organize or manipulate God; but without a careful discipline, we cannot receive him either.”
Recently I, once again, experienced some devastating trials. My heart was so broken and
my spirit so bound up it had become difficult for me to attend worship or even to pray. I was
in a spiritual wilderness and although I knew I needed God, I felt like He wasn’t near.
Meister Eckhart said: “The soul must long for God in order to be set aflame by God’s love,
but if the soul cannot yet feel this longing then it must long for the longing. To long for the
longing is also of God.”
God’s voice in the wilderness came to me in the form of Sue McLeod’s invitation to attend
the Houston Presbyterian Cursillo in November of 2006. I went and I know God met me
there! He renewed my heart and it was a wonderfully sweet and life transforming
experience. But this renewed heart needed strengthening from a “broken heart” to a
“sprinter’s heart”, and eventually I hope to a “marathoner’s heart”. So when it was offered,
I signed up for the “Heart of a Praying Woman” class. I have found this Sunday school
class to be a wonderful place for strengthening my spirit and nurturing my growth. This
group of women also provides accountability in my prayer life.
I am now discovering that not only is praying continuously possible, it is necessary and
not really so daunting as it first seemed. You just take God wherever you go and into
whatever you are doing and share it with Him and allow Him to breathe His thoughts into
every daily action you perform.
The discipline of praying continuously won’t happen overnight. But as with Henri Nouwin’s
“asthmatic” receiving new life, we must learn to breathe deeply. When shallow breaths
have been the habit, we must push past discomfort and practice longer deeper breaths.
Like the marathon runner who trains we must train: with discipline of mind, body, time,
and place. Even when we don’t feel like it or think we have the time or the strength for real
“communion” with God, we must at least go through the motions until we develop the
habit of breathing Him in and allowing Him to breathe through us. Abiding in Christ, just
as he, the Son, abided in the Father.
