Because I can. That’s why I pray. Because I can.
I pray because others ask me to. I pray because most days I need to. I’d like to say I pray about the little things, but it’s usually the really big things that get my attention. This season, amid my little circle of friends and family, there are some really big things looming and I want them to know that at least one person who says “I’m praying for you” actually means it. And if one prayer turns the tide in their favor; if one prayer makes a difference, then let it be mine. Because if it doesn’t, it certainly won’t be for lack of putting it out there and asking for what seems to be the impossible.
I pray because I can. And I pray because I know that nothing is impossible. Absolutely nothing. Not what I can figure out. Not what some doctor might be able to do. Not what another expert advises. Not what would just never happen. With prayer, NOTHING is impossible.
Many, many years ago, during one of those interminable “big church” moments, I actually glanced at the bulletin. For whatever reason, out of all those sermons that sadly I dozed through, this one I remember. It must have been 45 years ago, but I can still see the title on that little bulletin that my brother and I usually took turns playing tic-tac-toe on if one of us remembered to bring a pencil. It read, “Is Your God Too Small?” This time I listened. I’m not sure of all the take-away points, but the one that I cling to, the one that resonates across all those years, is the realization that God is not limited to what WE can accomplish. In fact, God is not limited at all. Putting him in our little box of probability makes him way too small and is actually insulting. And it severely limits what we ask for.
If his presence is so great that Moses couldn’t even look him in the face for fear of dying from the sheer majesty of it all; if Daniel could do nothing but collapse in a dead stupor at the mere vapor of his presence over the water, then I figure that what we are dealing with requires a whole lot more attention and credit than we tend to give. We make God way too small in our attempt to fit him into our range of abilities. We really just have no idea.
And so, I pray. I pray for the impossible. I pray for peace for those who are walking through fire right now. And if they can’t pray for the impossible, then they should know that I can. And I will.
I’ll pray for the friend with a recent life-altering diagnosis that is too big to figure out alone. I’ll pray for the family that is battered on all sides in all sorts of ways. I’ll thank God for this hour and for this breath and for too many blessings to name in the time I have left to live. Whatever the gist of the conversation, the one thing I know is that my prayer will be heard by a God who is far too powerful to be limited. The God who moves mountains and splits seas is who I am counting on.
I’m not a total Bible scholar in that I can’t quote too many verses or give book and verse reference, but I do get the general idea of it. Somewhere in Jeremiah I recall a verse that paraphrases that God will be found when we look for him—when we pray. Somewhere in the New Testament is the advice to knock and the door will be opened; seek and find. We’re even given the right way to pray if we need a nudge to get started. Jesus prayed to God in the garden, asking for what was not to be, but knowing that with God, anything was possible. The only requirement was to ask. Isaiah promises that God will be with us through fire and deep water if we expect him to be. Jonah yelled at God—well at least he prayed—and was spared a really bad ending. And yet, that only occurred after he realized the magnitude of God’s ability and intent. He had to understand who was in charge while he sweltered under the shade tree that withered overnight.
Hannah even bargained with God, promising to give little Samuel to the church if she could just have him for a while, and I’m not above doing the same—although not for a son. I don’t have much to bargain with, but I’m open. I would definitely bargain for a prayed-for outcome. Yet, that’s not expected, which is a really good thing as I have nothing to give.
So, I pray. Not only because I can, but because I’m invited. I sort of think I’m expected. I don’t keep a prayer journal, I don’t have a prayer closet, I don’t count on any rosary beads, and I don’t keep Lifeway in business. But that’s not the roadmap. In fact, there is none.
I actually do remember a verse that I just cheated and looked up. It’s a quote from Psalm 116:2, “I love the Lord because he hears my voice and my prayer for mercy. Because he bends down to listen, I will pray as long as I have breath.”
So that’s why I pray. I pray because He listens. And I pray because I can.
