I am writing this sitting in one of the noisiest places I know; louder than a public swimming pool, than a class of Year Sevens on a Friday afternoon (just!) and louder than a thunderstorm. A friend told me this morning of a Nooma dvd where to get an hour of silent filming, with only natural and no man-made noise, it used to take fifteen hours, but now it takes thousands of hours.
I am sitting in a local soft play warehouse; where parents come for a ‘break’. And reading the superb book ‘living close to God when you’re not good at it’ by Gene Edwards has reminded me to slow down, to leave gaps between the sacred words I mouth to the Lord.
Someone has said that often our prayer is like a small boy who rings the doorbell then runs away. We do not wait for an answer. We are not quiet enough to hear the still small voice, rising from somewhere in the purity of our God-breathed human spirit as we wait for Him.
Chrysostom has said: ‘Prayer is an all-sufficient panoply, a treasure undiminished, a mine which is never exhausted, a sky unobscured by clouds, a heaven unruffled by the storm. It is the root, the fountain, the mother, of a thousand blessings.’
When the Word said Let there be light, He also was saying, Let there be prayer. He is the only food we need, the only real food there is. If prayer is our spiritual oxygen, have you breathed today? The blessings of a walk with Jesus so outweigh the cost that it is a marvel that anyone even recalls what was left behind. Prayer is as vast as God and we are all tiny as ants until we do some spiritual breathing.
I am still in a noisy place, but there is a widening oasis of life in my spirit.