My Praying Heart

Recently a sweet struggling friend of mine posted on Facebook..."I am broken." Her words broke my heart resulting in a tender tug of compassion. I am aware of her struggle...and even though the words 'praying for you' are big...somehow the words felt small and hollow. Another precious friend is battling cancer. We gathered to pray with her one night...while we were pulled together knee to knee in a tight circle...she asked the question..."when you say you will pray for me...do you really?" Ouch! I kind of do....I say a quick dart prayer...but her words caused me to ponder. Do I weep for the hurting? I weep when I am hurting...or one of my children is hurting...but does my heart break for the broken? Does my heart break for the lost? Are my prayers from my heart?

Nehemiah is my new hero. He was a pray-er! When he hears about the brokenness of his people...the scripture says, "I sat down and wept. For some days I mourned and fasted and prayed before the God of heavens".   With every single challenge Nehemiah faced...scripture says he prayed and fasted. Through the power of prayer and a compassionate heart God takes a cup bearer and raises up a confident, courageous leader for His people. God always taps out somebody that has a relationship with Him...someone that relies on Him to make the impossible possible.

Nehemiah was leading the rebuilding of the wall. God was rebuilding the hearts of His chosen people. They had forgotten who they were. God called Ezra to read the scripture to the people. They listened attentively to the reading of the law from daybreak until noon. (Whew!) To their credit...their ears were open to hear God's law...their hearts were filled with joy...but also broken with repentance. They were sorry for the sins of their forefathers...sorry for their sins...they wept...they wanted to change and become the people they were chosen to be!

Prayer...praying from the heart. Praying from a broken heart...a rejoicing heart...a repentant heart...a wounded heart...If God can take a praying cup bearer and raise up a bold architect of walls...then maybe He can do something with an old school teacher on her knees praying from her heart for the hurting.

Thank you, Father, from the bottom on my broken heart for allowing small me to talk to big You.