to: those who pray

Ever since I was born, I’ve been ready to go. My mom jokingly tells me I’ve been over eager from the get-go, coming into the world two months early with a litany of quirks and complications. While I’m often on time to things, I rarely have everything I need and usually have given little to no thought on where I’m actually headed. This character trait (or flaw, if we’re being honest) has led me to over-commit, over-promise and often show up, unprepared ninety-nine percent of my life. If the people needed a president, I wanted to be it. Was I always qualified? Nope. Did I usually give any time and thought to what the job entailed? Nope. But I was going to try my hardest to be everything and do everything for everyone and anything.

I’m sure at this point in my rant, you’re curious what the heck this has to do with prayer? Well, about a year ago as the fall came around and I started running with full force towards the world again, I hit a brick wall. I had been discipling a girl a few years younger than me and she was going through a really rough time. I tried meeting with her, recommending books, sending her bible verses—nothing seemed to help. One day as I drove to pick her up, I heard the Holy Spirit whisper the most obvious yet helpful thing I’d forgotten. He told me to pray for her. I’d done everything I could think of except for the most important one—pray.

I don’t know where this strange, pandemic riddled world has left you. Maybe you’re homeschooling kids, maybe you’re working even more than usual, maybe you’re single, jobless and at your whits end as to what to do! Where ever you are, I know prayer holds power. Whether they’re whispered prayers spoken over the kitchen sink, or they’re long written out ones spoken in your newly freed up mornings. In spite of the temptation to make lists, do more or simply just survive this quarantine, I hope we pray more. When we feel bored or joyful, fearful or flawed, I hope we surrender ourselves again. I hope with thanks or cries for help, we return once again to a God who promises kindness and comfort and movement. He’s a God who knows what to do when we don’t. And if you’re unsure of what to say, in the wisdom of John Mayer, ‘say what you need to say.’