Fully Ourselves

John Wesley is best known as the founder of the Methodist Church. But, equally, if not more  important, he and his brother, Charles, helped launch the Great Spiritual Awakening in the mid-1800s. John started a House of Prayer called the Foundry where miracles unlimited were released, including his brother’s prolific hymn writing. John was also a man of prayer. He would get up at 4:00 am in the morning to intercede for four hours before starting his day. Later in life, he would extend that prayer time to up to EIGHT hours a day. 

Two weeks ago, Heartland, my church, launched a Prayer Room. Our main auditorium is open on Tuesday nights from 5–8 pm. And I am committed to being there every Tuesday during those hours to be available to pray for anyone who asks.

The first Tuesday night was eye-opening for me. Because it was new, only a few people came, only one person requesting prayer. Which left the rest of the 2 hours and 45 minutes for me to, well, pray. Which, I fully admit, was quite challenging. How in the world do I pray for so long? I didn’t bring a Bible with me and I wasn’t about to open my Bible app for fear I’d appear as though I was scrolling through Social Media. So I sat there. Doing my best to focus on God. 

But God, in his attentiveness to my concern, began to speak and help direct my thoughts. I grabbed paper and pen from the back, sat back down and began to write. Words I wanted to express to God and words that I heard back from him. And, low and behold, it turned into a rich and wonderful time. In fact, I was so busy writing that when I finally looked up, it was time to close. I left the room with a full heart, a smile on my face and a literal handful of thoughts and prayers that God and I worked through.

Last Tuesday night I came a bit prepared. I brought my Bible and grabbed paper right away. Except, this night I did little writing. I got to pray for people. Several people and it was one of the best nights that I have had in a long time.

You see, I’ve spent a lifetime always evaluating myself. Not sure where that comes from, but it’s a habit or dysfunction that has followed me wherever I go for as long as I can remember. Mostly I evaluate conversations. Did I express myself clearly? Did I sound dumb? Did I step over the line? Did I talk too much about myself? It’s exhausting and if I fail in any of the aforementioned questions, I wrestle with it for days, working hard to move on. 

But prayer. Prayer a safe place for me. Especially when I pray for others. I’m not dogged by critical thinking because I’m focused and listening, both to the person and to God, and then praying, encouraging, and offering hope. It’s the purest form of conversation that I’ve ever experienced. Even through these past years of battling with God, disappointed in him, furious with him, he never allowed me to discard prayer. The moment I would drop it, he'd pick it up and place it right back in my hands. Encouraging me to try again. To trust him. To listen to him. 

Because he knows that when I’m with him, praying, listening, and praying for others, I’m locked into his presence and his voice. And it’s here, I realized as I drove home last week; it’s here that I feel fully me. 

So Tuesday’s coming and I’m eager to get there. To this quiet place in God’s presence. Where maybe others might find, like me, that it’s in prayer, in the listening and in the talking and in the writing that we can be fully ourselves.