Once upon a time..
There was a humble, wooden floor.
And for a little while, every morning,
Two men would bravely embrace it.
One was older; one was younger.
One was taller; one was shorter.
One had coffee; one did not have coffee.
One had a cool beard; one did not have a cool beard.
It was an interesting combination,
But differences could have cared less.
Many things bonded these two together,
But during such mornings, one purpose prevailed:
A prayer life is a very personal thing.
It is found in one’s closet or mind.
It is grown behind the scenes;
Cultivated between one and God alone.
But there is something special,
Something extremely special
When two people of shared burdens
Come together to pray.
But put aside human prayer.
Put aside the “Heal my bruise,” and “Help me win.”
Throw away the “Lift me up” and “If it’s Your will.”
Such prayers were not so.
They gave up the stage for the Holy Spirit to take control.
They begged for crucifixion of self.
They uttered cries of humility.
They pleaded for revival.
It was a time of war, and truthfully, they were unworthy for the fight.
However, to the glory of the cause, they had an Advocate who was worthy.
They simply came before the throne in the name of Jesus Christ.
And as they grasped the privilege of such a position, they wielded it bravely.
It was epic.
It was honorable.
It was life altering.
It was humble.