Keeping the Prayer Clock Wound

Deep in the ground, a seed is breaking open, spreading its roots and reaching toward the sun above. It soaks in the moisture from the soil around it and instinctively climbs upward until it can peek aboveground.

Hopefully, this isn’t happening at my house, because I don’t have a green thumb or that magical growing gene. Knowing how to combine the right amount of sunlight and the right watering schedule eludes me. Oh, did I mention I also live with a destructive toddler, curious preschooler, and 150-pound dog who likes to taste most things, whether or not they’re edible?

But despite all this, I still buy seeds and small starter plants. I cheer against the inevitable, hoping this plant, this seed, will defy the odds.

Not too long ago, I had the sort of year when it seemed like all the odds were against me. Perhaps it was the move to a new community or my husband’s perpetual work schedule, but more often than not, I felt like I was grasping in the dark, hoping to find light.

Praying for our friends and family at breakfast has been our tradition for several years. It started as a chance for my son to learn the names of family members we rarely see, but it’s become a treasured part of our morning routine. We use the previous year’s Christmas greetings and photos as our guide, praying for one individual family each day until we’ve used them all. Then we start over again.

Then amid my hard season, before our breakfast prayer, my son started asking me, “How should we pray for this family?”

From the Wisdom of a Three-Year-Old

I don’t know where he heard the idea of specific prayer, but his question struck my heart. Why shouldn’t we pray with detail? We were accomplishing my first goal of learning family members’ names; now we could take our prayers a step further. After all, Galatians 6:2 says, “Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ” (NIV).

I started sending messages to friends and family asking how we could pray for their needs, but I felt really weird about it at first. We communicate with some of the people we pray for only once a year, when we send them a Christmas greeting and they send us one. My question seemed nosy, and we didn’t always get a response. But sometimes we received requests to pray about deep needs.

We prayed for an orphanage in Albania to receive hot water—and they did!
We prayed for our friend in Kenya to be comforted after the death of his sister.
We prayed for chronic illnesses and infertility.

Sometimes big prayers were answered, and it was so exciting to share those blessings with my son. Sometimes prayers weren’t answered, so we continued to lift our requests to heaven. And sometimes people prayed for us. They wanted to know how they could share our burdens. But even if they didn’t ask to pray for us, praying for others helped me. It took focus away from my own desperation and placed it on others and God.

When We Need Jesus the Most

We all go through seasons of discouragement. There’s nothing wrong with focusing on ourselves when we feel hurt and pain. But when that focus becomes all-consuming, Jesus is calling us, telling us he’s there despite what we’re feeling.

He will never leave us or forsake us.

He is our healer.

He is our provider.

He is our comforter.

He is our encourager.

When we feel our lowest, we can hold on to those truths. Excuse the cliché, but you knew I was going there. Even though it seems like only darkness and “dirt” surround us, just as the sun pulls seeds in the ground toward its light, the Son is pulling us toward him and his light.

That’s precisely where I was during this time—in the ground, in the dark. I needed those morning prayers to remind me not to look up just for my friends and family but for me as well.

Being Consistent

In college, when I was going through another rough stage, I came across these words from Madeliene L’Engle: “So we must daily keep things wound: that is, we must pray when prayer seems dry as dust; we must write when we are physically tired, when our hearts are heavy, when our bodies are in pain. We may not always be able to make our ‘clock’ run correctly, but at least we can keep it wound so that it will not forget.”ٰٰ[1]

I like this quote because it reminds me to be consistent. Being a Christ-follower isn’t dependent on my emotions, my schedule, or even my circumstances. It doesn’t have to be convenient for me. But I am called to be faithful.

God is designing the picture. I need to be responsible for the piece of the puzzle he’s given me. To trust. To reach for him in my own situations and in others’.

Prayer with a Side of Oatmeal

Tomorrow morning, just before 7:00, I’ll dish oatmeal onto three kids’ plates and add diced apples, cinnamon, and a splash of milk. I’ll call my children to the table, and they’ll clamber into their seats while I take the Christmas cards off the hook on the wall.

Then we’ll pause and say a prayer, not only thanking God for the food but to ask for his love and care for that day’s family. It’s simple, it takes five minutes, and through it I’m reconnecting with friends and family. But more importantly, I’m connecting with God, and in every season, I’m encouraging my children to take every request him, to be consistent.

I haven’t determined the right consistency for growing plants, so my starter plants will no doubt fall victim to my household surrounding. But at least I have the assurance that my steady prayers, even in the darkest times, will rise to heaven as I bow in prayer for friends and family around the world.

[1] Madeleine L’Engle, Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art (Colorado Springs: Waterbook Press, 2001), 107.

Ashley Shannon is a wife, mother, and self-appointed adventure curator. As a lifelong learner, she enjoys exploring the coastal South where she lives and painting her experience of motherhood with words.