It was a dry and mild Thursday evening when the air of loneliness and self-pity that had consumed me for the past few weeks seemed to lift. I was presented with a choice: a prayer meeting with a group from my church or a night at the pub with a good friend in need...
To bail on the prayer meeting initially filled me with a sense of guilt. Was I putting God second by not going? Was I not fulfilling my obligation as a member of a cell group that suggested and scheduled the prayer meeting in the first place? My heart, or so I thought, was telling me I should really be a good example and attend the meeting. Prayer however strikes fear within me. To pray in my mind is fine but prayer meetings make me feel pressured into participation and these heartfelt thoughts quickly become a dress rehearsal for the vocal performance. Stage fright strikes causing me to stumble over my words, words that have somehow been masked by this thin layer of falseness and very promptly my lips run dry before nothing but an Amen tumbles feebly out into the awkward room. The whole process, on reflection, seems pointless. God, after all, would hear my first silent prayer. Flawlessly articulated in the depths of my mind. The show prayer would hold little substance and would be spoken with an intention just as empty as my reason for attending in the first place. Obligation. Image. Pretense. Even if I did choose to go, these inevitable outcomes would eliminate any attempt at convincing that by going I am putting God first. Pretending to give something to God that I am feeling obliged to do, to make me look honourable, seems to be an entirely selfish motivation.
It was evident that my heart was not in the right place for this evening of prayer, and I didn't really feel, perhaps rather critically, that the other attendees could offer me much in the form of encouragement. It is therefore unsurprising that when my friend text me, asking if I was free to catch up, that I instantly felt the inclination to accept the invitation. In fact, before the text had even arrived, I had already decided to not attend my church meeting, and thought instead I would spend the evening preparing for a job interview that I held later in the week. When my friend's message lit up my phone I was faced with another decision that seemed to want to test my character. Friendship or career - What is more important to me at this time? The answer to this question was not difficult for me. My friendship definitely ranked higher on my importance scale but I still did not want to jeopardise an opportunity that I had been striving to receive. I eventually decided to consider combining these two new options when it occurred to me that my friend, who I had since discovered was feeling down and needed someone to vent to, could actually help me with my job preparation.
With the decision made I happily set off on my twenty minute walk to town. My friend had told me she was already ten minutes away so I promptly headed to the pub where we had arranged to meet. However, when I arrived she was no where to be found and after several unanswered calls she eventually dropped me a text to say she was running late - typical! Still, it was a pleasant evening so I gracefully perched on a wall outside of the venue while I waited for her arrival. A few minutes later two, nonthreatening-looking, twenty-somethings approached me and asked whether I would be willing to answer a few questions. The guy, an American with kind, big brown eyes and his female companion, also American, told me they were from YWAM. This caught me by surprise and these feelings did not disperse as the girl continued to ask me questions about community and what my thoughts were on prayer. Her manner was gentle and she carried a sweetness and innocence that was both refreshing and inviting. I was amazed, and respected their courage for asking strangers these challenging questions without the foreknowledge of their background or faith. They had no idea that I was even a christian, let alone one that was skiving a prayer meeting with her community church at that very moment. I honestly answered their questions, sharing with them my struggles with prayer as I have with you in this blog. They both offered me some encouraging advice before concluding by asking me if their was anything I would like them to pray for. I mentioned my job interview and also asked if they could pray for ongoing guidance and reparation for a personal struggle I was going through. That's when my friend turned up. It's funny, I am certain that if she had been there on time I would have never met these two street missionaries. After a few more exchanges of informal conversation the guy and girl prayed for both me and my friend before leaving us to attend to the night ahead.
I couldn't stop reflecting on the whole incident - it seemed far too relevant to just be simply coincidence. God's hand, I believe, was gripping on to mine, and even when I felt I had chosen to not spend my evening in communication with him at my church group, he had chosen to spend it in communication with me. The job prep from my friend was hugely beneficial and her attitude in life, combined with the uplifting prayers of my YWAM friends, left me with a new found positivity, a peace about myself that I struggled to find before. God blessed me throughout that Thursday evening, and I did not deserve a single drop of it. That is part of why God is good, God deserves our praise and why I will continue on my journey to become a strong woman of God.
This is my distinctive ponder. A humbled heart. A blessing undeserved.
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