The Power of Prayer

Today at Thrive we talked about using the Psalms and remembering what God has done in our lives as part of worship and trust in Him. I wanted to share a moment I experienced recently that helped me in learning to pray with others. I hope it encourages you the way it did for me.

When Nothing Else Matters...The Power of Prayer
The words jumped off the page: “Nine Dead and Fifteen Wounded in Ambush.” I scanned the article with a pit in my stomach and panic in my heart. In my brother’s thirty-one months of deployments in Iraq and Afghanistan, nothing had struck fear in me like this headline. The sketchy details of the attack left room for debate, but somehow I knew Matt was there. I settled the kids in their rooms to play, closed my bedroom door and fell to the floor, tears falling as I desperately prayed for my brother’s safety.
My usual prayer life has its challenges. Sometimes my conversations with God are merely transactional, like when my husband and I talk business in the breakfast bustle of the day—who’s going where, when will he be home, what needs to be done. My time with God can be the same—a quick confession, petition, or entreaty for help. Less often, my prayer time is a lively conversation—but usually centered on what God’s doing in my life, with my hopes and my plans.
Yet for the next twenty-four hours, my own selfish prayers were set aside as I pleaded for God’s protection over my brother’s body and soul. My thoughts continually wandered to fears—for his mental health, for his companions, for his future—so most of my prayers were silent. Paul says in his letter to the Romans that the “Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express” (8:26b). My spiritual posture was one of quiet petition as I repeatedly entered God’s presence and let the Spirit groan for me.
The next day, my brother made contact with his wife. He was alive, unharmed in body but shaken and grief-stricken from the terrible loss his small unit endured. With information from her I was able to pray more specifically, yet the silences remained as I cried out to God in the pain of inexplicable suffering. Later that day, my mother called. Her voice was heavy with grief. “We are gathering tonight with some close friends to pray. Maybe you can do the same.”
My individual prayer struggles make group prayer even harder. Oftentimes my prayers in a group feel flat, forced or fake. I’ve lead prayer before--in youth ministry, when two students from a nearby high school died in a car accident, or in counseling, when I offer to pray for a client—but never with a situation so personal. Despite my hesitance, I invited a few friends over to pray that night. As each person began, I sensed I had opened a window and was peeking in at their individual prayer life. The first person affirmed God’s providence but confessed his struggles in knowing what to ask. The next expressed her sadness, as if she was talking to her best friend.
A feeling of comfort came over me as I realized that God--a present force in each life gathered in my living room--was also present with my brother in the Afghan wilderness. All human devices had been stripped away—I could not call him on the phone, reach him by email, or give him a hug. Speaking with my Heavenly Father and sending my love via His was my only option. Prayer had often been a last resort. Now it became a first defense.
Each member of the group began to pour out different concerns and petitions—for Matt’s mind and spirit, for his military honor, and for his role as a father, husband and son. I began to weep as I felt each individual’s deep love for my brother—someone they hardly knew. Jesus in them provided discernment that allowed them to pray in specific ways that I alone couldn’t. In the Gospel of John, Jesus prayed that we as believers might be united, just as he was united with his Father. Unity of spirit rested on our little group that night as my love and concern was swallowed up in God’s love and concern for Matt, spread through each individual’s prayer.
Since that day, I’ve learned that welcoming silence in my prayers for others allows Him to minister to my own soul as well as direct me toward the one I pray for. Group prayer is only flat when I don’t invite God’s presence to move in my heart through the words of those gathered together. Allowing others to minister to me and my family through prayer pours out a peace that is inexplicable, a healing balm to the shrapnel wounds of evil and suffering. The tragic events of that July morning had faith-shaking potential, but the power of praying together affirms God’s eternal protection that far exceeds earthly circumstance.


Make sure you check back tomorrow, when author Keri Wyatt Kent will join us to answer some questions about her new book, Rest! Leave a comment on her post for a chance to win a free copy of the book!