The Prayer Table

Several weeks ago, the CCF staff and student leadership team at UNC (Dean, Shannon, Brett, and myself) decided to start doing a prayer table on campus.  The idea is very simple.  Once or twice a week, a couple of us take a small folding table, two chairs, some paper, pens and a ballot type box, and go sit in the quad (the center of campus).  We hang signs on three sides of the table that say "Prayer. Write down your worries, stress, etc. We will pray," and we just sit there.  People come up and write down their anonymous requests and we pray for them later, in private.  It's not a CCF plug.  It's not an evangelism strategy.  It's just us trying to reach the UNC students in a quiet but powerful way--through prayer.  Shannon and I go out on Tuesdays around lunchtime.  We usually eat our lunch and plan Bible study.  The first time we went out, we had two people stop by and write down requests.  Last week, we had thirteen.  God has used us.

I enjoy doing this so much.  There are several reasons why, and I'm learning new ones every week.

People are grateful.  Every time someone comes and slips their prayer request into the box, they thank us.  It might just be courtesy or habit, but I know that sometimes it's not.  They actually say, "Thanks for praying".  Today on one of the requests, the person wrote "Thank you for this prayer request table."  That's how I know God is working.

It's personal.  Well, it's as personal as you can be with a complete stranger.  What do I mean by personal?  If you've ever kept a journal, diary, or sent handwritten letters to close friends, you know how personal writing is.  I'll speak for myself in saying that I sometimes have a hard time communicating my thoughts and emotions when speaking.  But when I write, I can stop and form my thoughts and there are no distracting fillers like "umm" "ya know" "like" "I dunno" "whatever".  Those words all take away from the content and tone of what you're saying.  So when you write it, it's much more concise and clear and personal.  Not to mention the fact that handwriting has personality, too.  We may not know the person's name who wrote the request, but we can get a glimpse of their individuality through their handwriting.  They're not just a bullet point on a prayer list, they're a person (who can write).

It makes people more relatable.  When I read things that people ask for prayer about, I realize that I'm not the only person who struggles with things like life plans, insecurity, self acceptance, maintaining a solid relationship with God, and support raising (I can seriously identify with that person!!).  I guess when it comes down to it, I know I'm not alone with these issues.  But sometimes I ignore that fact and I feel really alone.  Being able to pray for strangers who also struggle with these problems makes me feel less discouraged by my own actions and reminds me that these are things God wants me to bring to Him.  These are also things that God wants me to bring to Him on behalf of others, even if I have never met them before in my life.

Let me see if I can try to explain in words how this prayer table has affected my heart today.

You know those times when you see or read something sad or very happy and you immediately feel the tears welling up in your face?  Well that's what happened about an hour ago.  I just got out of my last class of the day and--after stopping for some iced coffee from the Daily Grind--came up to the CCF office to read the prayer requests that were submitted today.  As I was reading them, I came across one that made me have that feeling of immediate and uncontrollable wells of tears.  It read: "My mom is having heart surgery on the 29th. I'm scared."  I just broke down.  I can't explain it.  I think it was a combination of the brevity of the message, the fact that it's her mom, and the assumed seriousness of the surgery.  But... no, that wasn't the only reason.  It was the last sentence. I'm scared, she said. She wasn't trying to hide her true fear or pretend like she was strong enough to handle it.  She didn't ask for peace or healing or even a successful surgery.  She didn't ask for anything, really.  She just confessed the state of her heart.  I read those words and I imagined how I would feel if it were my mom.  "Scared" would barely begin to describe my emotions. In that moment I felt like I could pray for this girl as if it were my own personal plea to God.  What do you pray for during times like that?

I read a blog post a few months ago about how often Christians try to help people--each other and nonbelievers--cope with their pain through messages of encouragement.   People come to the church because their hearts are hurting and we give them bits of scripture about the joy that a relationship with God brings and how we should set our eyes and hearts on eternity, not focusing on the despair of this world. The author of the blog was not saying that this is a bad thing to do.  Of course, God does provide us with joy and hope, and these are messages that we can share with people who need to hear them.  But we can't ignore the very intense, deep pain that the sin of the world causes us.  When people come to the church hurting, we can meet them in their pain and grieve with them.  This is especially true among Christians--in our interactions with each other.  We have this idea that we need to pretend like hard times don't affect us because we have hope in Christ.  The truth is that this world is marred by sin and death, we are affected by it, and it really really hurts sometimes.  We can't just ignore that.  God hates to see us suffer, but when we do, He gets to be the one to hold us as we cry to Him.  He is our Father, after all.  He can and will tell us that it will be okay.  But right now, we just need a really good cry.

The girl (I'm assuming by the handwriting, sorry if that seems sexist) who wrote this prayer request knows this.  If she doesn't, she's an expert without even realizing it.  I'm so thankful that she shared this.  If you wouldn't mind, please join me in praying for this precious child of God.  Take on the burden of her fear and help her carry it to Jesus.