Friday night afforded me the opportunity to get back into the swing of late night prayer, and I loved it. I was at a church in South East London for their monthly youth night of prayer. There were about 20 young people there between the ages of 15-20ish, and they prayed up a storm!
I’d forgotten the buzz that comes from sitting in a semi dark room, knowing that you are going to be there for the next twelve hours, anticipating where prayer is going to take you.
I’d forgotten how exciting it is to be around a bunch of youth who just so want to pray, and who will do any number of wacky creative prayer excercises as part of this.
I was humbled and amazed to hear some beautiful and honest prayers, you know the type that aren’t slick or polished but raw and heartfelt.
I was amazed to hear them praying for someone in their community who is struggling at the moment. Their grip of spiritual warfare was impressive.
I loved the 3am slot, where we just all stood in a circle and said thankyou to God. It could have gone on for hours, and there was a lovely sense of worship and adoration.
I also loved my faithful armour-bearing friend back home in Wandsworth, who stayed up till 4am, at home on his own to pray alongside us. That was such a blessing.
Most of all I loved it that Our Father caught all of this. That he was listening and present for every minute of those hours. That he strengthened us when the caffiene wore off and guided our prayers, that he even inhabited the moments of silence. That he hovered over the young people sleeping in corners, That he rejoiced and delighted in each of them.
I loved it that a group of them snuck out in the early hours of the morning and ‘tin-foiled’ some of the leader’s cars too. A top moment!!
