Groaning and A Prayer Room
In March of 2019, our area experienced what was coined a “bomb cyclone.” Most of us started the day in the office (of our old building), and as the tumultuous weather details unfolded, we all made plans to go home and hunker down. By noon, a few of us were left in the building, closing it down, when I heard what I first thought was a baby crying, but louder and more gutteral. I stopped and tried to listen intently, but the wind was howling and slicing through every corner of that old brick building, making it difficult to hear. Then I heard it again, and this time, I thought it sounded like a wounded animal. I walked the whole building, looking for its source, and ended up at the North door, where the sound was noticeably louder. I opened the door and there stood one of our Well-Friends, a frail woman with one hand on the wall and the other on her cane, being blasted by snow, drenched, cold, unable to move, and groaning. Unable to speak, it was a groan that came from her entire body; a gut wrenching groan; a wordless longing for help.
This morning I read through Romans 8 and was struck by the use of the word groaning. Paul says, the entire creation is groaning - and as I read that, I heard the echoes of that snow storm groan once again. Our world sure feels like that right now, doesn’t it? The world is longing, groaning for relief from what has been a storm of a year. The earth groans from the pains of a pandemic, racism, political division, hurricanes, fires, unrest in so many corners of the planet and (insert your own situation here) __________.
But not only is the whole earth groaning, Romans says we, the children of God, are groaning within ourselves too! And I feel that. I groan for my neighbors who don’t know Jesus (yet!), for friends who are battling sicknesses of body and mind, for my refugee friends who have lost so much this year, and for myself, where I see the brokenness of my own life. Yes, I groan with hope, but I groan and long nonetheless. And this is how I am entering Advent.
So where does groaning lead us? If we just stay in sad longing, we end up in despair, don’t we? We end up weary and wanting to give up. But then Romans reminded me, that the groanings do not belong solely to creation or to people. If they did, we might have grounds to be despondent. But the Spirit himself is groaning also and his groaning is turned into prayer. We are not left alone; He comes alongside us and helps us in our weaknesses, and pleads on our behalf “with groanings too deep for words.” Friends, groaning should lead us to prayer. And I hope we will take that invitation - for our groanings and longings to be turned into prayer - knowing that we have One who prays with us and for us!
So what could that look like? I know that I am trying to “make space” this Advent, creating a space in my home, set apart for times of prayer. My space is pretty simple; it includes a chair, a blanket, a candle and my prayer book. At other times in my life, my “prayer room” has looked like running shoes, a path, and the great outdoors. So, what does it look like for you to make space for groaning and prayer this coming season? (I would really love to hear from you!) We have also created a Prayer Room at the church building that is available for anyone to come use during the week (see picture above). You are welcome to go here to sign up for times to come into the Prayer Room.
See, our Well-Friend who groaned at the door back in March of 2019, taught me a lot about prayer. Her need for help was evident; her wordless longing was the best she could do. Her groaning was loud and raw and true. She came with nothing, at the end of her rope, all the elements against her and she sought the help of another. And her groaning was not met with irritation, or indifference, but with compassion, tenderness and help. Surely if we as humans can do that, how much more does the Father hear our groanings and long to meet us right where we are at?
