God bottles up the prayers of his saints to be distributed when they are needed

"To be a Christian without prayer is no more possible than to be alive without breathing."
~Martin Luther

Our pastor has been doing a sermon series on prayer. He covered why we need to pray and how to pray. He started an initiative for being ONE at ONE as a church. We pause at 1pm, pray the Lord's Prayer and then pray about anything else we need to for a minute. This is simple, yet effective. There is a great sense of camaraderie and unity in knowing we are all praying at once. Last week, as the series finale, the church was invited to share about answered prayers. It was amazing to hear so many stories of God working in the lives of our congregation.

As I sat there listening, I felt impressed to share my story of answered prayer. I knew I needed to share, but I was incredibly nervous. I can speak in front of people, I've done it all my life, but speaking of something so personal always makes me cry. I couldn't cry in front of everyone - how embarrassing. As an added challenge to sharing, we were asked to keep it under 2 minutes. Trying to fit my testimony into two minutes and to keep it on the subject of answered prayer and not get off topic seemed nearly impossible.

As I sat, wringing my hands and waiting for my turn at the mike, I tried to think of what I would say but my mind went blank. The person before me was nearing the end of their time and I was tempted to panic. Instead, I whispered a quick prayer for the right words and stepped up to the mike. That I was even able to form an intelligent sentence was in itself answered prayer. Here is what I shared, or something like it:

"I come from a praying family. I have always been told that God bottles up the prayers of his saints to be distributed when they are needed. I am incredibly thankful for those prayers. I was going through a rough patch. When we were married a year, my husband had a terrible car accident. To this day he suffers from his injuries. This resulted in enormous strains, physically, emotionally and financially. Add to this, a diagnosis of infertility, and It felt like my life was spiraling out of control. At the risk of sounding like a spoiled child, my life was nothing like I had ever imagined it. I felt trapped. I was depressed and at the end of any rope I might have had.

One day I sat, just holding a bible that was given to me by my great-grandfather. I didn't know where to open it to, I just held it. I opened it to the front cover and read the note he had written to me. It told of how proud he was of me and reminded me that he had prayed for me every day of my life, something he had told me many times through the years. I remember breaking down and sobbing. I don't think I ever did open the bible to read it that day. I called my mom to tell her about that note and how grateful I was for it. I needed prayers and love more than I could say, and I really believe that those daily prayers prayed by a faithful man of God were poured out on me even when I didn't have the faith myself to carry me through or to even pray.

Nothing drastic changed immediately, we looked into adoption and foster care and found out that, at least for the time, those options were not for us. We wanted to pursue fertility treatments, but could not afford them. We continued with life as best we could. Fast forward quite a while, and we received a settlement from the wreck. That money was enough to pay off our medical debts, get IVF, make a nursery and go on a much-needed vacation. Praise God, our IVF worked, and on the first try. Our little boy is almost two.

Through the process there were many answered prayers, and I did learn to pray myself, but I truly believe that it was the prayers of faithful grandparents, parents and other loving family and friends that got us through."

It felt wonderful to share my story, in person, and to see people's reactions and feel encouraged. Sharing on my blog is great, and I have been told that I have helped many people and I know God can use written words, but to stuff down the fear and to share what God has done with a group of your peers and fellow believers is completely different. Online I have a certain anonymity and I get to carefully choose my words and craft sentences to fully convey my meaning. In person, I just have to be real. I have to trust that the words coming from my lips are correct and true. In person, emotion is conveyed that gets lost in print.

After walking back to my seat, I felt more a part of the church body. I shared a piece of my heart with them, and they didn't throw it back at me. They rejoiced with me and I even saw some tears in the congregation. Being a part of a church body is about so much more than just attending service once a week. Church is family. Church is a body of people united in a common purpose and in prayer for one another. I am so grateful to be a part of such a church.