Sweet hour of prayer

Ever had times when praying seems like you're chanting like the heathen do?  Like your prayer isn't going above the ceiling?  If not, I have.  Many times.  I've read or heard of many prayer warriors who have had the same problem.  Many have said prayer is work.  I'm not exactly sure why.  After all, it's talking with God, our Friend, Father, Creator, and Savior.  If I can babble on for hours to a friend over the phone, why can't I come before the God of the Universe and talk to Him?  Certainly, He'll be more understanding and He's promised to never leave or forsake us, so He definitely hears.

Perhaps it's a sense of awe that makes us feel awkward.  He is so transcendent and no one likes to feel awkward.  But, He's also close and personal.  He often tells us in His Word to seek His Presence.  Even that sometimes seems to fall flat.

One of the ways I've pulled my prayer time out of the confines of the room is to sing hymns as a way to praise Him.  It worked this morning.  How could it not?  The old hymns are so rich with the majesty and glory of God.  They speak of His great love for us, so how can we help but love Him?

Charles Wesley was a prolific hymn writer, as was A.B. Simpson, the founder of the Christian and Missionary Alliance, the denomination of my childhood and youth.  Moving so much as an adult often took me places that had no Alliance church, so I would go to the closest denomination, doctrinally.  The Baptists.

But, it's the Methodist, Charles Wesley, the 18th century hymn writer, who deeply touched my soul this morning and pulled me out of my "God bless..." and "God bless...."  Frankly, I think the Lord gets weary of listening to our shopping list of God blesses.

Who can remain blase after singing, "Oh, for a Thousand Tongues to sing, my great Redeemer's praise, the glories of my God and King, the triumphs of His grace"?  Or, Simpson's song, "Himself."  "Once it was the blessing, now it is the Lord.  Once it was the feeling, now it is His Word..."

The first time I heard, "Fill My Cup, Lord," I was living in Aurora, Colorado.  My parents were visiting.  Dad was so touched by the song, he wept.  To this day, the words reverberate in my heart.  "Like the woman at the well, I was seeking.  For things that could not satisfy;  and then I hear my Saviour speaking; 'Draw from My well that never shall run dry."

Perhaps one reason those songs resonate is that our world has become so chaotic and busy.  So many things are clamoring for our attention.  In Wesley's day, Simpson's day, and Blanchard's day, there were no computers, cell phones, televisions, video games, and all the other things progress has brought us. Unfortunately, they all too often drown out the still, small voice that is calling us to seek His Presence.

This morning's prayer time was sweet, precious.  I'm so grateful for hymn writers of long ago.  They stripped away all the "progress" and took me to throne of grace.  There are hundreds of songs in the hymnbooks. Many, I know, some I don't, but all of them will lift my heart and my thoughts to the One Who cares for me like no one else.  There's no better way to start the day.