Among my favorite memories as a parent raising young children were those spent in a backyard vegetable garden. My son helped whenever I forced or begged him, but my daughter loved donning an old-fashioned dress like a pioneer woman and helping me plant, weed and (especially) harvest the garden.
She delighted in bringing a fresh tomato or cucumber to our dinner table and hearing everyone’s remarks about how much better homegrown produce tastes. There is something astonishing and magnificent about planting a seed, watching it grow and tasting the “garden fresh” results.
The same is true in our spiritual lives. A satisfying harvest awaits those who plant wisely and tend well the right crops. And there may be nothing better and more promising to plant than the seeds of prayer.
Most of us know there is more to this life than we are enjoying, and we sense that some—much, perhaps—of our lack is due to a deficiency in prayer. We remember that Jesus said, “Pray to your Father who is in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you” (Matthew 6:6, ESV). He didn’t say, “Maybe your Father will reward you.” He said your Father will reward you—from his bounty, creativity, wisdom and love.
So how can we do that? What can we do now—this season, this coming spring—to plant seeds in our lives that will bring a harvest of prayer and the rewards that come with it?
1) Slow down.
We have learned a lifestyle of “hurry.” We spend our lives in spasms of activity. We speed through frantic work and frenzied leisure, not realizing that our busyness and hurry diminishes and detracts from our lives and makes prayer—except the most perfunctory kind—nearly impossible.
You may believe that the hurried pace of your life is beyond your control. Some of it probably is. But not all. However, it takes effort and planning to slow down. For example:
– Get to your schedule first. Instead of letting others control your schedule, block out “margin,” “down time” or “slow-down moments” in your calendar. Then, when someone asks you to take on more, you can honestly respond, “I’m booked.”
– Learn to say “no.” Our lives get overloaded because we say “yes” too many times to too many people about too many things. Just because you could do it doesn’t mean you should. So practice saying no. If it helps, here is a phrase I have used so much and so often I should copyright it: “I would love to say yes, but I have to say no.” Try it. It works.
– Choose “slow” activities whenever possible. You don’t have to beat that stoplight. You don’t have to be in your seat for the first pitch. You don’t have to park so close to the grocery store entrance; you may even use the extra steps to the door to pray. By choosing “slow” activities several times a day, you may create new space in your life for moments of prayer and reflection.
2) Grab solitude.
Have you ever noticed that most of the life-changing, mountaintop experiences of people in the Bible occurred when they were alone? Moses was alone on a mountain when he saw the burning bush. Jacob sent his entourage across the Jabbok and was left alone to wrestle with God. Elijah heard the still, small voice while alone in a desert cave. Peter was alone on a rooftop and John was in a cave on the island of Patmos when they each had important prayer experiences.
Henri Nouwen once wrote, “God dwells only where man steps back to give him room.” Solitude is a way of doing that. If you are an introvert, you already crave such moments. If you are an extrovert, solitude will still be crucial in creating the soil and climate in which prayer can grow and flourish in your life.
Don’t think you have to find large swaths of time to be utterly alone, with no human contact. Jacob and Joshua both managed to step away from the activity of a large campsite. Peter’s rooftop retreat may have been one of only a few places he could find solitude in the busy port city of Joppa. Like them, you may need to step away from a family gathering or a busy workplace to grab a little solitude in the course of your daily life. Take a noontime jog. Find a park bench. Or maybe just turn off your phone and shut down the computer and let things go dark and quiet.
3) Be silent.
I once became so frustrated with my own prayerlessness that I scheduled a four-day silent prayer retreat at a monastery in Kentucky. There I encountered the Rule of St. Benedict— which is a silent rule—and the opus Dei (work of God) that constitutes the rhythm of the monks’ lives. They meet for prayer seven times a day every day. So I determined that—for the first twenty-four hours, at least—I would enter into that rhythm. I would speak only in worship and prayer. I would be silent except at those times.
Guess what happened.
On day two, after a full day of speaking to no one but God, when I bowed my head over my lunch tray to say grace, I realized I was already praying. I’d been praying on the stairs. I’d been praying in the cafeteria line. I’d been praying as I filled my tray with food, as I walked to an empty chair, as I silently sat down. I’d been praying since the moment I awoke that morning. Less than one full day into the silent rhythm of that community, I experienced the literal fulfillment of the Bible’s command to “Pray without ceasing” (1 Thessalonians 5:17, KJV).
Silence—in short snatches or long stretches—can grow and blossom into prayer as perhaps nothing else will do. It will foster two-way communication with God. It will surprise you and change you. Together with going slower and grabbing some solitude, silence can be the means by which God calls forth new growth in your life this coming Spring. And those simple seeds can be an answer to your heart’s longing if it is like David’s petition: “God, make a fresh start in me” (Psalm 51:10, The Message).
