What I've Learned About Prayer - Part 1
Janet Holms McHenry
Twenty-eight years ago, I was falling apart physically. I was overweight, out of shape, and reliant on painkillers to silence my screaming hips at night. The worst moment was when I walked out my back door one day and found myself in a crumpled heap because my knee had given way.
I knew I needed to do something about my health, so I decided right then that I would get up a little earlier the next morning and go walking. But I also knew that God had been beckoning me to spend more time with him. So, the next morning I got up fifteen minutes earlier and began praying while I walked.
There was a lot of “my-ness” in those early weeks of prayer. My four kids. My marriage. My job as a high school English teacher.
But that all changed one morning when I saw a young, single dad turn over his blanketed toddler girl to the daycare center manager before six in the morning. And that little girl said, “Bye, Daddy. Love you.”
I knew right then that God had me out on the streets of my community less for the “my-ness” of my prayers but more for the needs of others. So, I prayed right then for that young father, and then I opened my eyes to the needs around me.
I prayed for the Golden West restaurant owner’s wife, who was experiencing loss of eyesight. I prayed for the couple who owned the pharmacy—they’d lost their only son in a recent tragic accident. I prayed for the loggers heading out into the woods and the millworkers driving to the mill. And I prayed for the people whose homes I passed.
A passionate desire arose within me that morning—to learn all I could about prayer. I had been reading through the Bible each year, but I then started a practice of noticing references to prayer on those pages—teachings about prayer, conversations biblical people had with God, and prayers, such as those in the Psalms. I found that God was schooling me in prayer as I marked those circled Ps in the margins of my Bible.
And while eight of my books are about prayer, there are four teachings that resonate across the pages of those books.
We Can Pray Without Ceasing
One of my earliest struggles about prayer related to Paul’s teaching from 1 Thessalonians 5:17: “Pray without ceasing.”
How Paul? I wanted to argue. I’m a full-time English teacher with four kids at home! But my frustrations didn’t whisk away the words from my Bible.
To try to figure out how to do that, I read books like The Practice of the Presence of God by Brother Lawrence. But my argument—which really was with God—continued. After all, the brother was a single guy whose only responsibility was washing dishes. I could pray all day too if a hundred other voices weren’t asking me for something!
It was the months and then the years of prayerwalking that helped me make that mind shift. You see, when you understand that wherever you are, there’s a need for prayer, you’ve developed what I call “prayerwalking eyes.” Your natural approach to personal encounters with others, daily tasks, the news headlines, and problems shifts from a problem-solving or management mode to prayer.
And you have begun your praying-without-ceasing life. Instead of having a prayer life, you have a praying life, as my late friend Jennifer Kennedy Dean would say.
We Can Have a Looking Up Perspective
I experienced dramatic changes in my life because of prayerwalking. Physically, I lost two dress sizes, and I no longer needed the painkillers.
Emotionally, the depression that had clouded most of my adult life vanished. I realized that one morning when my son Josh came into the kitchen, where I was fixing school lunches.
“What are you doing, Mom?” He genuinely looked surprised.
I looked down, then at him. “Making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?”
“No, Mom. You were singing!” He walked away, shaking his head.
You see, he’d never heard his mom singing in the morning. Usually the “tune” was a series of shouts to get kids out of bed. It was then, though, that it struck me: the depression that had sent me into closets, crying, was gone.
I also experienced spiritual changes. Fear no longer controlled me either. Every morning when I walked, I prayed against irrational fears of the dark . . . until one morning when I got home and realized I hadn’t even given that a single thought.
Some could argue that I was experiencing the effect of endorphins from my vigorous walk, but I think a praying life provides spiritual endorphins—that sense that God is in control, that he cares about me, and that he is right beside me in this journey. That was about the time I began using Looking Up! as a business name. A praying life is one that is looking up to God all day long . . . which, in turn, then provides a positive outlook. I believe that when someone makes the shift from a prayer life to a praying life, even a pessimist can become an optimist.
Scripture supports this: “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:6-7). Prayer invites peace, joy, strength, and a looking-up perspective into our lives.
We All Have a Praying Personality
A handful of years ago a publisher asked if I would speak to her authors about prayer—specifically how to incorporate more of it into our daily lives. After I listed dozens of practical suggestions, I heard myself say, “Perhaps how we pray has something to do with our God-given personality.” It was one of those mic-drop moments when you realize, Oh my, there’s an interesting idea!
So, I took that idea to the Bible, asking God to show me the various ways biblical people prayed. I noticed that some were cerebral pray-ers—such as Moses, who argued with God, and Gideon, who negotiated with God. Some were emotional pray-ers—like Hannah, who poured out her emotions over not being able to conceive but then praised God joyfully when she did. Some biblical people demonstrated dedicated devotional practices, and some were physical in how they prayed. Jesus, however, modeled a well-rounded praying life (I call him my Prayer Mentor and highly recommend studying his prayers, his prayer practices, and his teachings on prayer, as found in the gospels).
The bottom line of that long study for me was that yes, each of us has a praying personality. Some of us love writing out our prayers in a prayer journal. Some are dedicated to the practice of using a prayer notebook—with prayer requests written down, dated, and checked off when God answers. And still others have a prayer closet, where they can shut the door and pray without the family’s unending demands disrupting them.
And then there are those of us who don’t resonate with any of those practices. But that’s okay. My jam is prayerwalking, writing down prayer requests on sticky notes that go onto my calendar, and seeing problems (at home or on social media or wherever) as reasons to pray. And I do, right then and there.
The issue comes down to not comparing our spiritual walk with others we think have it all together. Let me assure you: I do not have it all together . . . and I’ve written a bunch of books on prayer. I’m still learning. I’m still growing. In fact, my spiritual practices may change from season to season, and that’s okay too.
Prayer Isn’t So Much About Answers
The most important thing we can learn about prayer is that it’s less about answers but more about access. We have instant access to the living God—the Creator of the universe, the Sovereign One who holds history in his hands, the Lamb who gave his life for us. Dwell on those thoughts for a minute.
Yes, Jesus himself encouraged us to pray about everything. Food. Clothing. You name it.
But his prayer practices teach us that if we indeed are Christ followers, we know we live and breathe and have our being only because of the Father’s beneficent grace. He has pursued a relationship with us from the beginning. He invites our conversation—even when we’re angry or frustrated, confused or full of doubt.
Prayer builds relationship with the Lord just as our conversations with each other build our relationships with one another.
I truly can keep looking up through a praying life. And you can also.
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