Prayer Warrior

A few months ago, I was at a social gathering and ran into the parents of a guy with whom I went to high school. I re-introduced myself to his stepdad, and when I said my full name, my identity apparently clicked with him, and he said, "Oh I remember you. You were like the class prayer warrior."  (I went to a private Christian school throughout 12th grade, which might make that label seem less weird.)

That is not something anyone calls me at this point in my life. I mean, it may have been in high school, but it's been almost 8 years since then. So it was definitely a little bit jarring to think that at least for this man, that's the title he associates me with. I mean, it's not a bad thing, of course. There are far worse things I could have been called. You know, it's not like he said, "Oh I remember you. You were the class meth head." Yes, "prayer warrior" is much nicer, I think. But it just kind of took me aback, because that's not how I see myself anymore. In fact, if I'm being really honest, I feel like I don't even know how to pray anymore .

When my best friend Cheyenne got married, I called all the girls together to surround her and pray for her marriage before the ceremony started. I wanted us to pray for her, because I knew that it would mean a lot to her and that it would be a special moment. Since I was the one who initiated the prayer, it was assumed I would pray. But as I launched into it...I had no idea what to say. I mean, I had the feelings and the intent, but the words weren't there.

And about a month later, I went to see one of my favorite "evangelicals," Jen Hatmaker, speak in Tulsa. Toward the end of the message, she asked anyone in the audience who was suffering (physically, spiritually, emotionally, whatever) to stand up, so that we could pray over them. She told us that if someone near us was standing, and we felt lead to, to surround that person in prayer and let her know that she wasn't alone. There was a girl behind me who stood, and her friend was standing with her, hugging her and holding her as she sobbed. I kept feeling compelled to stand with them, just to let them know that someone cared. I finally did, and as I put my hand on the crying woman's arm, I started sobbing too. I'm about to cry just thinking about it. I had no idea why she was sobbing, and therefore, I had no idea what to pray. But I remembered this Bible verse: "Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words." (Romans 8:26) And I knew that our sobbing was enough, because God knew what she was going through.

So those are nice stories that illustrate how at least I try to pray sometimes, right? The thing is, the real reason I don't feel like I can claim the title "Prayer Warrior," the reason it feels so distant from me, is because at this point in my life, I honestly struggle with believing that prayer even works. I legitimately wonder, at least 35% of the time, "Why does it even matter that we pray?" If God is so powerful and so good, then why does what we do or say matter in the grand scheme of things? Especially when you're talking about someone's life. Why does God apparently answer some people's prayers and seemingly ignore those of others? Why, if it was all going to go "according to His plan" anyway, does it matter that we pray? What gives me the right to ask for healing from a minor illness when people are suffering around the clock from diseases like cancer and autoimmune disorders and chronic pain? Why would God heal my pain and not heal someone else's? Did they not pray enough? Were there not enough people praying? 



In asking these questions, I feel myself getting upset. It doesn't seem fair. Life is not fair. Is God fair?

I know that probably 99% of all Christians have asked themselves these questions, wondered these things at night when they couldn't sleep. I know that most of them probably haven't voiced their concerns out loud for fear of being seen as "doubting Thomases" or whatever. I, on the other hand, have nothing to lose. I don't go to church. I don't claim to be a spiritual leader. I'm not a prayer warrior. 

So why, then, do I ever bother to pray? 

Because even though I don't know exactly how God works, I know He hears me. And I know He cares. And I know that whatever He decides to do, He's always far more capable than I am. So I give it to Him. I cry to Him. I cuss at Him sometimes. I thank Him. I ask Him to guide me, even though I often have no idea how I'm going to see this guidance. I tell people I am praying for them, and I hardly ever bow my head or get on my knees. But I love them and desire the best for them, and I know that that is enough for God. 

There are people who can say all the right words and speak life into even the worst of situations, and that's a gift. But I don't think that I need to be a "warrior" for my prayers to matter. I think I just need to be loved and heard by God. And thankfully, I am. We all are. 


xoxo

Christine

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