I have heard it said that most Christians don't like going to prayer meetings because they've been to prayer meetings and they're all the same. Here's what many typical prayer meetings are like: Someone writes down prayer requests, and at the end of the time allotted, another person prays. The requests are usually something like this: Sally's aunt's best friend's grandmother has cancer, Ann's son is still struggling with finding a job and with chronic arthritis pain, and Mike's got a bad knee that made him miss playing basketball with his son for the third time this week. Oh, and Hypochondriac Hattie? If she reads an ad in a magazine for the newest medicine to hit the market, you can bet your bottom dollar she'll be on it even if she doesn't really have migraines or allergies and she'll ask you to pray for her that the treatment or medicine works.
But what if I told you that what I'm really struggling with isn't my job search or my arthritis pain or my best friend's roommate's grandma's dog dying? What if I told you that I still struggle with believing that I'm worth getting to know and that I am beautiful even when my bathroom scale said I gained the 5 pounds I had lost a week ago? What if I asked you to pray for me to accept the person I am now and not try to be anyone else?
What if I told you that sometimes it's lonely going out for lunch after church by myself when others are making after church lunch plans with each other right in front of me while I'm waiting to shake the pastor's hand after the service ends and suddenly exclude me from a conversation that I had been previously involved in without asking if I want to join them and to pray I have the guts to invite someone to join me?
What if I tell you I hate it when well-meaning Christians ask me why I'm still single if I'm such a nice person, as if there is something wrong with me because I'm not ready to get married yet and I wish people would pray for me to be a better person instead of finding a husband? What if I add to that comment that I feel left out and stuck in the middle between my single friends and my married with children friends and often don't bother talking to anyone because of that? Would you stop praying for me to find a husband if I asked you to and start praying that I can enjoy the relationships I have whether or not Mr. Right comes along?
What if someone else in a prayer meeting or small group Bible study prayer request time said they're struggling with suicidal thoughts, or an addiction, or a broken relationship that shows no signs of ever being repaired? What if someone was just one rent payment away from eviction and homelessness and was praying for a way to find the money? Would you pray for them, or would you throw stones?
I can guarantee you there would be dead silence in the room, and most of us would resort to the canned prayers we learned as a kid so we could leave the prayer meeting quickly and go on with our busy lives.
But there are times when I wanted more than just the pat on the back answer to the struggles I faced. So do a lot of others. If we are to pray without ceasing as 1 Thessalonians 5:17 tells us to do, is it worth the risk of getting involved in someone's life even when parts of it are messy and unorganized when we wish we could just straighten it up?
Today in my small group Bible study, we talked about Mary, the mother of Jesus, and how she had the courage to go through with being pregnant while still a virgin at the time and engaged to be married to Joseph. The woman who'd recently handed the reigns of being in charge of our annual Hanging of the Greens Christmas nativity play to someone else mentioned that putting this part of the birth story of Jesus into the script took some agonizing on her part (and some creative directorial skills when coaching the person playing Joseph, who was quite upset at the idea of marrying someone who was pregnant and knowing it wasn't his child.) But ultimately, she decided to add this part of the story of Jesus' birth from Luke chapter 1 into the script to stay true to the biblical text and to help others who see it every year to understand parts of other people's lives that are messy.
To be honest with you, I don't know how I would have handled being in Mary's shoes if I'd been told I'd be the mother of Jesus. It would be even scarier to tell my family and the man I'm about to marry. I'm sure my parents would have killed me if my fiance' had not done so by then. But Joseph was willing to take a huge risk when Mary had prayed to God to use her as his light, and he and Mary got married, had other children after Jesus was born (see Mark 6:3 and Matthew 12:48-50), and probably put up with many rumors, stares, and whispers for raising Jesus.
Sometimes, life gets messy and complicated. But all too often, church ends up being a museum for saints instead of a hospital for sinners. When a friend of mine and I went to see the Christian rock group Casting Crowns about two weeks ago in Bethlehem at Stabler Arena, lead singer Mark Hall said that too many experiences with not being able to admit he was struggling or had questions had lead him to believe that prayer requests from others were just about praying for others when everyone's sick but no one has any problems. Too many people like him (and me) have not always been able to find other Christians to walk alongside of us in both good times and in bad times. Fortunately, I have now found that much needed support, but others do not and leave the church, often permanently.
Maybe this past Sunday's sermon about getting real in our prayer time also hit home with me for another reason than just getting real with God and not hiding what's inside our hearts. I realized that the sermon impacted me because I could no longer hide my physical and emotional pain prior to spinal fusion surgery or during other scary and heartbreaking times in my life. I'm blessed, because I have been given hope by God and by others who walked through fire with me. Now it's my turn to step up to the plate and walk through fire with others.
So, if you're so inclined to pray for me, here's my request: I want to know God more fully and share in both his joy over my healing and in his sorrow over my suffering, only because he suffered wounds that healed me on the cross. If I'm supposed to look like the risen Jesus (who still had the scars when Thomas touched him and finally believe he'd risen in John 20:24-29), then I pray that the scar I have on my back from spinal fusion surgery and the invisible scars of emotional healing will bring hope to others, even when life gets messy and requires me to walk through fire with them or they walk through fire with me.