Prayer Posturing

Prayer Posturing

Theology in the Trenches

by Kathleen Kjolhaug

 

Prayer cards purchased, placed in pews, penned upon. Decorated shoe box sporting hole a top easily opens. Requests dumped upon table uniting all who read. And all who now know help carry burdens to the top…the very Top to the One who answers pleas.

Wall built, prayers adhered to as notes placed between each stone sends cries upward…responding to what the heart dictates. Interceding, pleading and spending time with the One who is able.

Prayer flags flying atop mountain, flapping to be noticed that hearts are raised and this is the highest elevation to where one can carry…and so they do.

Shawl covers head as mama sits in rocker securing her sacred space for the moment. Children know this is her time…and she speaks that which carries the weight of the world in prayer for generations not yet known.

Wooden box set atop mountain, lock and key keeping that which is placed within secure until a small gathering group bows heads in earnest to share burdens cast down…written down. Hikers happen upon lock and key. They know not the depths of pain carried until they see the box. Contemplation pours out secrets that need escape; once shared upon paper and placed within, they run on…just a little lighter…upon path.

Matches set candles alight, knees bend, and heads bow as hearts lift up those who are dear. Sisters and brothers pray in the privacy of the sanctuary covering all in prayer.

Hands grip steering wheel as heart bound burdens are contemplated. A mad dash to work finds this is the only time where there is time and the urgency is noted. Foot pressed upon metal eases off because He’s got this…He’s got this…He’s got this…

Walks taken around streams, villages, country roads, and by-ways… The familiar landscape of the city neighborhood has the footprint of the prayerful…the faithful…covering that which needs to be uncovered and brought into the Light so the Son may warm. Troubles mysteriously dissipate; but it is no mystery…no mystery at all.

Night time hands folded with little ones as equipping the next generation is a calling all its own. Come into my heart Lord, Jesus…come into my heart to stay…and the seeds are planted and He maintains that which is His…and He calls forth those who are His. Lifted hands He lifts.

Psalm 145:18 simply says, “The Lord is near to all who call on him, to all who call on Him in truth.” And so we do. The saints who’ve gone before us have gone…and now we must pray…it is our turn…it is our time.  Amen.