In my personal library, I have over a hundred and fifty books on prayer. These books range from how to pray like the Desert Fathers of the Third Century (who fled from the cities to the desert in order to meet with God in solitude and silence) to how to influence suburban America by prayer walking. Books that teach about prayers of petition, praise, intercession, not to mention praying for friends, family members and the needs of others. Others portray prayers of examination, reflection and praying through the Bible. You get the idea, a lot of books about prayer. Did I mention I really like books?
Some of these books have been instrumental in challenging my life of prayer with God over the years. But, if I’m honest, when I think about prayer, there’s an image that out weighs all these pages of the sages. It’s the image I have of a mentor of mine during my late teens, early twenties. There he was sitting in a chair - early in the morning – every morning. Praying. At times, words were flowing or passages of Scripture being quoted. At other times, silence, not a word was uttered, rather simply being present before God. I have images of him driving to and from work, praying as he drove. He would pray for me and others, as well as upcoming Bible studies, ministry endeavors, and the like.