We are all creatures of habit and we sometimes get ourselves into ruts that don't do us any favors. One of those habits for me is watching the news.
One evening, I was getting my daily fix of the headlines when this smugly sophisticated doctor took to the screen to announce that "viruses don't care if you pray." The implication was obvious that either God doesn't exist or He doesn't answer prayer.
I'll be the first to admit that I don't get all my requests granted when I pray, but I have had many of them answered in remarkable ways. For instance, during my illustrious high school career, I once prayed for a classmate who was going through some difficulties and she returned to school the next day with a fresh mindset and full of hope. She knew nothing of my prayer, but God did.
As for viruses, I have asked for protection from the flu for many years. I've only caught that bug twice in the past 44 years. Apparently, God forgot to ask the viruses if they cared that I was praying.
I can think of few benefits to growing up with a disability, but I know that my vulnerability and weakness helped me to realize that I better learn to pray at a young age. I distinctly recall a trip my dad and I took to Tampa when I was about nine years old. We were traveling in the evening, when dark clouds engulfed an otherwise peaceful sunset. I anxiously looked for a break in the clouds, but all I got was an ominous foreboding of trouble that rose from my gut like bad pizza. The clouds grew darker as we drove and I was quickly reaching the limits of my bravery.
With all hope lost, I took to the floor board in the back seat of the car and began to barter with God for my life. Since my dad was driving, I included him in the deal as well. It seemed like the right thing to do. After asking God to forgive me for every thought I had ever had and promising to become a missionary to the far ends of the globe, I arose from my makeshift prayer closet to find my dear father trying not to laugh. This was the day I learned the value of silent prayer. The storm I so greatly feared had turned into a whimpering little shower with a touch of thunder.
As my school days continued, I prayed for better grades, protection from bullies and that pretty girls everywhere would fall madly in love with me. Two out of three wasn't bad, but that last prayer never made it past the ceiling.
I was always part of an active youth group, which helped slow the wayward development of the carnal mind in all of us. One day, a group of us decided to make better use of our 15 minute morning break by gathering in the school parking lot for a devotion. We considered this a good way to make our faith visible and inviting to others.
As the days of doing this turned to weeks, our attendance jumped from five or six students to over 30 on numerous occasions. Mind you, this growth was not without competition. Plumes of not-your-ordinary smoke could be seen billowing out of car windows, loud music was blaring all over the place and numerous rounds of a card game called "Tunk" were being played with pockets full of nickels on the line.
Sometimes, we would be praying when hecklers would throw in some insincere "amens" and "hallelujahs". They must have had a virus, because they certainly didn't care that we were praying. However, today, several of those hecklers are followers of Christ. I'm pretty sure our prayers had something to do with that.
Our prayers are a very big deal to God and He answers all of them correctly. They are so special to God that they are presented before the Lamb of God (Jesus) in golden bowls and they are described as incense in Revelation, chapter 5. In scripture, incense often indicates something that brings pleasure to God.
Take a moment and picture the Lord standing before a bowl full of prayers, taking deep whiffs of the delightful fragrance they are emitting. Catch a glimpse of the wide smile that etches across His face as He recalls your conversation with Him and the powerful response that resulted from the time you shared together. Can you see the Lord flipping through your prayers as if He were viewing a favorite high school yearbook, laughing and crying at all the memories they evoke?
True prayers that spring from deep within are proof of a relationship with a very real God. You don't have to be perfect to offer them. You just have to be real. The Bible declares that the fervent prayers of the righteous (those in right standing with God) avail much, meaning that they can change a lot of things. Who knows, if we get good at this praying thing, even a virus might begin to care, after all.