Prayer Perspective

I don't pop out of bed all that often. Mostly, I will gurgle, moan, roll over, sigh, lean up, moan again, and lay back down. This morning was one of those mornings, getting up extra early and all. It was rough, but I really do enjoy being up early. The world is a pretty and pleasant place in the morning, even if I'm anything but. I admit, I had to have some prayer time before I was even able to have a good attitude about going to church and hour earlier than usual. But when I got to the church, I was immediately thankful. It was the first official week for our new pastor, so there were already five or six men at work praying in the sanctuary. That was incredibly sobering for me. I was, in a sense, required to be here and so I came. These men chose to be here to pray for their new pastor; no one was making them. I was ashamed and encouraged at the same time.

Rather than join those men in the sanctuary, I retreated to the college ministry class, where I teach on Sundays, to spend my time with the Lord. Again, I was struck with how simple it was to be doing what I was doing, and yet convicted by how resistant I've been to the notion of coming early to “pray over the church”. As a teacher, I was embarrassed by how lightly I've been treating my position, as well as my independent attitude, particularly as it regards prayer. I spent the morning thinking about the college students that will be coming through that door, praying for them and asking God to empower me with His love and wisdom. The greatest thing that came from that time in prayer, however, was that my heart was properly conditioned to the Cross. Often I come into class with a noisy soul, cluttered and ineffective. But that hour of prayer completely changed my perspective on the lesson, on the people, and on the truths that God was revealing to our class. It was an eye-opening experience I fully intend to replicate in the future.