By A Prayer

Tomorrow I'm going to be talking with my youth group about prayer.

The motivation for the talk comes from this week's passage in Mark 1, wherein Jesus goes off by himself and spends some time praying. I've always liked the image of Jesus going off and praying by himself...spending some quality time with God...getting away from it all.

I don't know if this makes me out to be some pie-in-the-sky Christian, but I have to admit there are times when I simply need to pray. When there is nothing else that I can do but fall before God and talk. Listen. Thank. Beg. Cry.

Say what you will, but I like praying and know I need it.

I still remember back in college when I'd trudge down to the somewhat spooky basement of our main chapel building and find myself heading towards the small prayer chapel.

Sometimes I'd kneel and pray. Sometimes I'd grab a hymnal and sing. Sometimes I'd pull one of the notebooks off of the shelf and begin reading the prayers of other who'd preceded me in that dimly lit room.

I'm not sure who started the tradition, but there they were: prayer journals filled with the written supplications of so many who felt and lived and loved so much. And though I may never meet their authors in this life, the words comforted me. They told me I wasn't alone in all of this and that my prayers to God were not far removed from that great company of witnesses who had gone before. It was comforting.

Maybe that's why I like the story of Jesus praying by himself in a solitary place. Because, somehow, it makes me feel a little less alone when I find myself in the same spot.