A Heartbeat Away

“Make your life a prayer.”—1 Thessalonians 5:17, Passion

It can take a lifetime to dispel the image of prayer as being folded hands and closed eyes in a hushed atmosphere. Sure, it can be that. But more often than not, prayer seems to take you by surprise in the practical way that it just happens—with eyes wide open, while minding your own business, and seemingly while you’re on the way to doing something else…

…I was running late to an early morning meeting and determined that stopping for coffee as usual was out of the question. Even five minutes to run in and run out would be five minutes too long. And yet a stronger impression within kept saying, “stop anyway, just to say hi.” A few months earlier, when stopping for coffee as usual and carrying on smalltalk with the employees, one of them responded to “How’s life?” with “Not great. I found out that I have congestive heart failure and that only a small portion of one of my chambers is functioning properly. I can’t go to work for awhile."

At a loss for words, I think my response was something along the lines of “well, hang in there, kid. I’ll be praying. God can do anything.” And while walking across the parking lot to my car, I remember telling God that I would pray, and in fact I did right then and there, not very loudly or eloquently, with eyes wide open while on the way to doing something else, but admitting “wow, this is a big one, but I’m going to pray that you give them a new heart.” Transplant was not what I had in mind…

…so, five minutes that I really didn’t have to spare to stop in and say “hi, how’s life?” Might as well grab that coffee after all. And while pouring, the employee with the broken heart who had been out of work but was back again responded, “I’m feeling great! I went for a checkup with my cardiologist the other day, and I hadn’t even gotten out of the driveway when my phone rang. It was him. He said, ‘are you sitting down?’ And I laughed, ‘well, yeah, I’m driving!’ And he said, I can’t explain it, but that chamber is now functioning at 50 percent!”

And there was much “Woohoo!”-ing, and high-fiving. I made the sign of praying—hands together pointing upward, and said “amen” to the employee’s casual “by the grace of God” comment. And while walking across the parking lot to my car, I remembered that prayer from months earlier and said thanks, but then quietly pushed the envelope once more: “still believing for a new heart, but I’ll take 75 percent for now.” ….

And all the while, common sense keeps tapping you on the shoulder: "Is this even biblical?!"

Jesus, we are told in the Gospels, would often get away by himself to pray—to talk with and listen to and be with His Father. He told His disciples it’s a good thing to pray in a secret place with no distractions. But Jesus also told His disciples to always pray wherever they are and never give up, and not only that but to believe for seemingly impossible things like telling fig trees to wither and mountains to get up and move.

Come on, who can do that?

But Jesus also said that our faith needn’t be huge or loud, just activated, always knowing that “with God, all things are possible.”

Jesus also gave a pattern for praying when the disciples asked for one, but never do we read about Him following up with, “so, how are you guys doing with studying those books on prayer and the course manual?” Helpful tools as they are, the Master’s day-to-day example from His coming and goings and routine encounters with people and situations seems to have been more supernaturally natural prayer—putting into practice an overflow of Heavenly conversation and relationship that works well beyond Sunday mornings.

Something you take with you on your way, even to being late for a meeting.

“And as you go, proclaim this message: ‘The kingdom of heaven has come near.’”—Matthew 10:7, NIV

Because you never know when the answer to your activated, feeble-faith, “just getting coffee" praying for seemingly impossible things could be just a heartbeat away for someone in need.

“I don’t know how people pray who don’t believe in the sovereignty of God to do the impossible. Because all the things I want to happen are impossible. If they’re possible, I’ll do them.”—John Piper