"Prayer is the lisping of the believing infant, the shout of the fighting believer, the requiem of the dying saint falling asleep in Jesus. It is the breath, the watchword, the comfort, the strength, the honour of a Christian. If thou be a child of God, thou wilt seek thy Father's face, and live in thy Father's love. Pray that this year thou mayst be holy, humble, zealous, and patient; have closer communion with Christ, and enter oftener into the banqueting-house of his love. Pray that thou mayst be an example and a blessing unto others, and that thou mayst live more to the glory of thy Master. The motto for this year must be, "Continue in prayer.""
Inevitably when we start to explore resolutions, so much of our thought is preoccupied with accomplishment. What new thing we would like to conquer, how many pounds we would like to lose, what difficult challenges we must overcome. The emphasis is recurrently aligned with the self, and most are coupled with a sort of intrinsic reward, something to be gained or acquired from the action.
Seldom is such significance applied to exercises of spiritual growth, most infrequently from the secular world, but far too scarcely from those under his employ. In Colossians 4, Paul rouses believers to "Devote yourselves to prayer, being watchful and thankful. And pray for us, too, that God may open a door for our message, so that we may proclaim the mystery of Christ, for which I am in chains."
Paul's message is removed from terminal limits. The message is one of purpose, not hours.
The apostles were resolute in their encouragement of believers, in which was buoyed and ethrealized by the predominance of prayer. Spurgeon emphasizes the the cycle of life in the prayer, observing that from the completion until the end of the journey that every moment is saturated with the significance of our exhortation of him. The entirety of the purpose we are entrusted with contracts in might to that of a single prayer, and the stirring of a single prayer can jostle the fibers of eternity. Consideration leaves no representation of it's purpose unexplored, but does not present as a trial or labor. Instead, such fellowship is recognized as a "banqueting-house of his love."
For when Paul inspires us all to devotion, he delivers such not as a labor, but as an invitation to the table. To a table that enheartens us to revitalize our spirits for prayer, galvanizes our senses to the danger, and to steer our hearts towards a thankful stasis. The table is never full, and the provision never vacuous.
My prayer is that year we resolve not to gain or lose what can be gained or lost. My hope is to increase in devotion, to be more awake and aware to both the machinations of the spirit and the morass of the earth, and to be decidedly thankful, not only in word but in deed as well.
