Prayer Vigil

This past Saturday evening through Sunday morning, our church held a prayer vigil. Starting at 8:00pm, and lasting until 8:00am, a steady stream of people came into our sanctuary for hour-long slots of prayer. We prayed for ourselves and our relationship with God, we prayed for our friends and family and their many and varied needs, we prayed for our community, and we prayed for our church's future as we seek and follow God's will for this place in the days ahead.

I arrived a few minutes late for my 3:00am time slot. Feeling pretty groggy after waking up to come over, I wondered if I would be able to stay awake for my hour, or if people would just find me snoozing away in a pew when they arrived for worship later that morning. Picking up one of the guides we had prepared for the prayer gatherers, I began reflecting on the words of Psalm 46:10, "Be still and know that I am God." As I sat in the candlelight and silence, and digested those words of scripture, I realized just how little time I am still before God in my daily life. Even in that moment of prayer at 3:00am, my instincts were to turn the page on the guide and get on to the "stuff" that I could actively pray about...people who are sick, ministries within our church that are growing, the never-ending struggle with church finances, a vision for reaching out to our community in more relevant and meaningful ways. But thankfully I didn't. I didn't turn the page. Instead, I became aware of a deep sense of need to simply be still before God, and know Him in that stillness. So I sat still. I put down my prayer guide. I closed my bible. I simply sat in the quiet and stillness and rested in his presence. It was probably the best time of prayer that I have had in years.

When I finally looked at my watch, it was 4:15am. I had overshot my hour-long commitment by 15 minutes. No, I hadn't fallen asleep, but the time had passed so quickly. I wanted to stay longer, but knew I needed a few hours of sleep before the Sunday routine kicked in. I am so very thankful for those moments of stillness during the prayer vigil the other night. And I am overwhelmed to think of the others who gathered that night in prayer along with me, and while I was asleep in my bed.

Why is stillness so hard for us? Why do we feel such a need to clutter every waking moment with noise and motion? Why are we so afraid to stop, and simply rest in the presence of God? I wonder if it isn't the very fact that in the stillness we do come to know God, and the more we know him, the more we will realize how out of whack our lives have become. Rather than face the music of what our lives have become without Him, we simply turn up the volume on life and ignore his still, small voice of love.