The mere fact that you picked up a book about prayer tells me you’re probably a Christian. You believe Jesus is the Son of God; and somewhere along the line, you asked Jesus to come into your heart, meaning you have a relationship with Him. Maybe you grew up in church, following the Lord from an early age. Maybe you were one of thousands at a Billy Graham crusade who went forward when the invitation was given, making a commitment to follow Christ for the rest of your life. Maybe you read a book by Rick Warren and learned about a purpose for your life through Jesus, or one of Max Lucado’s books that gave you a vivid, more personal vision of Christ’s gift of eternal life. Maybe the words of a hymn struck a chord in your heart. Maybe you became interested in Christ after observing a friend or neighbor who year after year exemplified the love of Christ in everything he ever did.
Or maybe yours was a most unusual moment of truth. Like twentieth-century American writer and editor Whittaker Chambers. A former member of the Communist party and a Soviet spy, Chambers tells of his conversion in his autobiography.
My daughter was in her high chair. I was watching her eat. She was the most miraculous thing that had ever happened in my life. My eye came to rest on the delicate convolutions of her ear—those intricate, perfect ears . . . The thought passed through my mind: ‘No, those ears were not created by any chance coming together of atoms in nature (the Communist view). They could have been created only by immense design.’ . . . I did not know that, at that moment, the finger of God was first laid upon my forehead.1
I get chills every time I read that. To think that the Creator of the universe, knowing exactly how Chambers’ mind worked, would draw his eye to notice the intricacies of his baby’s ear, and from that moment—that split-second of understanding—would help him come to believe in God. Talk about amazing grace!
Millions of people have been drawn to the Lord throughout history, each arriving at their belief on their own unique path. Sometimes we arrive there at the end of a broken dream or the result of some life-changing, crushing tragedy. We find ourselves without hope or purpose—apart from Him. Others simply acknowledge there’s got to be something more to life than mere human existence.
Each of us has an exclusive story telling how we came to find God. For centuries, preachers have told us about the “God-shaped hole” in all of us, put there by a loving Creator who wants to have a personal relationship with each one of us. How we respond to that holy hole in us makes all the difference.
Call me crazy, but every time I hear of another acclaimed “apparition” of Jesus or the Virgin Mary, I’m reminded just what a vacuum that God-shaped hole has come to be in our culture. When we lived near Clearwater, Florida, in December of 1996, one such apparition appeared on the side of a bank building on busy Highway 19. Just google “Marian Apparition in Clearwater” to see what all the fuss was about. Granted, I’m usually rather skeptical of these things, but I must say the resemblance was striking. The 60-foot image, apparently caused by a residue from sprinklers that routinely splashed against the two-story glass windows, became such a popular shrine for thousands of travelers from around the world that the bank inside had to close. Gridlock traffic required constant police presence. Then in 2004 an angry teenager threw a rock through the glass, shattering the image.
Of course, Clearwater wasn’t the first host of such religious apparitions. Back in 1978, a New Mexico woman noticed the mournful face of Jesus in skillet markings on her tortilla. More than 8,000 people journeyed to her home to view the image. Over 8,000! Then in 2004, a grilled cheese sandwich with the image of the Virgin Mary ended up selling on eBay for $24,000. For that kind of money, maybe I should check out the moldy items in my refrigerator. Yes, even now I see it— there, in Monday’s meatloaf. It’s the baby Jesus in a manger. Quick—someone call Geraldo Rivera. This is huge!
Okay, maybe I got carried away. And if these bizarre renderings somehow bring even one life to a saving faith in Christ, then I take back my sarcastic ridicule. But seriously, what could possibly drive tens of thousands to search for Jesus in a burrito or Mary in some holy toast?
I believe it’s that same God-shaped vacuum that dwells inside each of us. We know there’s something there, tugging at our souls. But we’re so out of touch with our Creator that we don’t even know what that “tug” is all about or where it’s coming from. So we look everywhere else on the planet to fill the void. With money, with material possessions, with relationships, with drugs and alcohol . . . It’s as if we’re on a mission to fill the void with everything but Him. Still, He never gives up. He keeps tugging and tugging and tugging. Why? Because God longs to have a personal relationship with you.
It doesn’t get any more personal than that. He loves you. And He wants to spend time with you.
And that’s where prayer comes in. If daily prayer has not been a part of your life as a believer, I can’t wait for you to discover what’s in store for you. I can tell you this: when you start spending time alone with God every day, you will never be the same. Friend, that’s a money-back guarantee.
But if you’ve not had that “come to Jesus” encounter in your life, I want you to take a moment and skipt to the back of the book to a section called “How to Become a Christian.” There you’ll find an explanation of what it means to follow Christ, then a simple prayer that will give you a chance to take care of the most important business in your life.
Finally, one more note before we begin. I feel the need to come clean, so let me just put it out there in bold print.
OFFICIAL AUTHOR DISCLAIMER:
I am not an authority on prayer.
I am not a preacher, priest, rabbi, minister, nun, evangelist, or seminary professor, nor am I a theologian with a boatload of credentials. Actually, I did earn a Ph.T. diploma—“Putting Hubby Through”—from a seminary in Texas, but that was more about paying the bills than studying the tenets of faith. Oh, I typed plenty of term papers for said husband on subjects such as systematic theology, apologetics, bibliology, hermeneutics, eschatology, and a bunch of other terms that all sound Greek to me.
Don’t get me wrong. I spent plenty of time praying during those early years in our marriage:
• God, please help us be able to pay the rent this month.
• Lord, please help me endure this stupid job until Ken graduates.
• Father, why on earth did you make Texas so darn HOT?!
• And what’s with all the big hair around here? These women look like a bunch of Texas tumbleweeds!
But unless typing and prayer-whining qualify me as some kind of prayer guru, then you’d have to agree I’m no expert on the subject. In other words, if you’re looking for teachings from one of the All-Stars of Christianity, I’m not your girl. What I can offer is an entire lifetime of struggling when it comes to prayer.
I’ve got shelves lined with books about prayer. I’ve tried prayer formulas. I even tried “praying the scriptures” when that technique appeared on the Christian horizon. Sometimes I’d be inspired by a sermon on the subject and recommit myself to pray daily. I’d buy a new notebook to organize my praying. I’d pick a time of day that best suited my schedule. And off I’d go . . . for a day or two. Time after time, I’d make the effort only to fail again and again. And with each failure, I’d hear that sarcastic and belittling voice in my head reminding me once again what a loser I was and what a sorry excuse for a Christian I’d become.
And so it was, year after year, decade after decade, I accumulated a mountain of self-imposed guilt. Eventually I gave up, convinced I’d never have a faithful and meaningful prayer life. And for someone who’s been in church since before I was born (Mom never missed a Sunday), that is not a good place to be.
Still, I know I’m not alone in this on-again, off-again battle. Show of hands: how many of you can say your prayer life is a consistent, daily habit, rich and full and spiritually satisfying? Wait. Maybe I should ask it another way. When was the last time you had a genuine, heart-to-heart chat with God? For t
he record, praying for a winning lottery ticket or a parking space close to the mall does not count.
Come on, be honest. Do you pray? I mean really pray. That shut-out-the-world, one-one-one, totally-focused, praising, worshiping, talking, and listening kind of prayerful communication with your heavenly Father, who loves you and yearns to spend time with you?
Right about here, you’d be duly impressed if I tossed in a few statistics about how many people pray, how often they pray, and how prayer has affected their lives. There are plenty of studies out there, all reaching conflicting conclusions depending on who is asking the questions, how they ask those questions, and what their underlying agenda is. But in the end, none of that really matters. Because my heart’s desire for this book is about your prayer life. Helping you find out what’s standing in the way of spending quality time every single day with God—the God who made you and cares enough about you to count the number of hairs on your head. Just think about that for a moment. Is it starting to sink in just how much He loves you?
So once and for all, let’s take a hard look at this matter of prayer. Don’t worry. I won’t be bombarding you with buckets of Latin or Greek terms (just a couple), nor will I be doing an exegesis of scripture. (Is it just me, or does “exegesis” sound like Exit, Jesus? And I’m sorry, but that’s just wrong.) Instead, let’s see if we can’t drop-kick all the excuses and find out about the significant, intimate treasure that awaits each one of us if only we’ll make time to spend with God.
O God, you are my God, earnestly
I seek you: my soul thirsts for you.
—PSALM 63:1