If you’ve dwelt in churchy circles long, you’ve probably heard folks talk about going into their “prayer closet” — a metaphorical phrase that refers to spending time alone with God in prayer.
But the notion of a prayer closet isn’t so metaphorical for a delightful friend of mine. A busy wife, mother, and working woman, my friend decided that she needed to find someplace quiet, dark and private to screen out distractions and pray with more focus, so she began holing up in her very literal closet, stealing moments with God while seated on a Rubbermaid tub amidst shoes and clothes.
One day, my friend’s youngest son came looking for her. He called out and she answered him from the depths of her prayer closet. Did this middle-schooler think she was nuts? Pretty much. A few minutes later, my friend’s older son had a question for her. She then heard her younger son say to his big brother, “Don’t go in there – Mama’s in the closet again.”
This story made me chuckle, and blessed me immensely, because it reminded me of a couple of important truths.
First, if the passion of our lives is to love God and other people, some folks will inevitably think we’re nuts.
Did you know that the prophet Isaiah was commanded by God to walk around naked … yep, naked … for three years to deliver a hard-to-ignore warning to the people of his day? Makes praying in a closet seem pretty tame by comparison, doesn’t it?
King David’s wife was more than a wee bit chagrined when he stripped down to his skivvies and danced for joy in the street when the ark of the Lord was brought back into Jerusalem.
Balaam’s donkey talked to him. How’d you like to try to convince somebody THAT happened?
Lots of folks misunderstood Jesus during His earthly ministry. A few of his unbelieving, embarrassed family members even showed up to haul him home at one point, apparently deciding he had lost his mind.
My friend is doing a whole lot of powerful, eternal good for her family and her world praying in that closet on her sanctified Rubbermaid perch. Some folks think prayer is a crazy waste of time; I believe it actually invites and invokes the very power of God into our world and helps us live with efficiency and purpose, as we emerge from prayer with God’s direction, wisdom and strength.
If that’s crazy, then pass me a straight jacket.
The second lesson I gleaned from my friend’s story about her prayer closet is this: We need to do whatever it takes to pray. In fact, we should feel downright desperate to connect with God on a regular basis. To ignore prayer and expect to live powerful, joyful, and peaceful lives is like trying to operate an electrical appliance that is unplugged.
No prayer, no power.
So if you need to nestle down between your Reeboks and flip-flops on the floor of your closet in order to find a quiet place to commune with God, then grab a Rubbermaid tub and go for it.
“Mama’s in the closet again.”
Not a bad thing for our children to observe, is it?
But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you. — Matthew 6:6