Every year in January, our church does a corporate fast. Everyone is asked to give up some things that please the flesh (think desserts, soda, television, etc.) choosing instead to turn in prayer for ourselves, our community, and our broken world. It’s a little like Lent, just a few months early.

Each time as the New Year approaches (and I feel overstuffed from all of December’s feasting anyway,) I actually feel excited to embark on the annual event. I envision myself up in the wee hours of the morning, praying long stretches for the lost and broken. I picture myself enraptured in glorious praise, communing with my King (instead of with my usual morning cup of hot tea. Oh, my. I must say that I AM MISSING my hot tea!)

And then January 5th or 6th hits. And I hit the snooze button. And I feel like a complete grump about my commitment to early morning prayer. By January 10th I find myself fantasizing about chocolate and all of those desserts that I took for granted at Christmas. And chocolate. Did I mention chocolate?

I also find myself a little disappointed with my prayer life. I want to be a spiritual giant, utterly losing track of time in the unseen realm, fighting battles and winning wars. In practice, however, I feel more like an ADD child being asked to diagram sentences. I pray for five minutes. Thinking the hour must be nearly over, I venture a peek at my watch. Seriously?! That was only five minutes? I try to be still and listen for the Voice of My Beloved. Sometimes I do hear something, and oh how sweet it is! But often, I find myself creating a grocery list in my head or musing about a recent conversation with a friend. Aaaaah! Herding cats comes to mind!

So I refocus. I read and pray my way through a passage of scripture or turn to a favorite worship song, allowing myself to be transported to adoration aboard that vehicle. It’s not bad. In fact, it’s good. For no matter how much it feels like I’m failing, I know that just by virtue of not giving up, I am winning. I am strengthening my “muscles,” practicing the discipline of settling my noisy soul. The hour of prayer has come to a close and I head to the kitchen to move along with my day.

And this is what I find. No matter how much I felt like a weakling during the early morning, I can tell that it’s recalibrating my inclinations and desires. My time with the Lord is sharpening my spiritual awareness. Throughout the remainder of the day I find myself more attuned to my Father’s voice. And His voice, by the way, is not at all like the grand, transcendent voice of Gandalf or some other mythical character. It doesn’t even have a proper British accent! It’s waaaaay less mystical than that. In fact, it’s a little like playing a game of ball.

He brings someone or something to my mind. (He tosses the ball my way.)
I shoot up a prayer about it. (That’s me catching it and throwing it back His way.)
Later in the day, He brings the need back to my mind. (That’s God keeping it in play.)
I lift the need to Him again, asking for His heart and for His will to be done. (We have a genuine game going!)
The next day the idea occurs to me to send an encouraging text, and to pray a blessing over that person after hitting “send.” (He sent the ball sailing my way with His impulse, and I did my best to return it with simple obedience.)

The truth is, it’s so un-magical that I nearly miss the majesty of it. I am literally co-laboring with God. But it doesn’t feel like labor. It feels like playing together, or like a conversation… maybe like playful conversation?

You’ve heard the scripture, “My yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Well I’ve sometimes had a hard time with that one. Like, really? “Easy” isn’t the word that comes to mind all that often. But maybe I’m just now hitting on something. Maybe I’m learning that while there certainly are times when this life feels like “taking up your cross and following Him,” there are also times when it’s light and gentle… and maybe even kinda fun. What a concept!