The Challenge
A friend had issued it- a challenge, one I really didn’t like. “Go into the mountains,” she said. “Find a secluded spot. Kneel down and pray for fifteen minutes. Keep your eyes closed- except you can peek at your watch. You’ll come back a changed man, I promise you.”
Her challenge didn’t settle well. After all, does the length of a prayer determine if God hears it? Besides, I felt a little resentful at having been issued the challenge in the first place. Who was she to imply that I needed this change. And yet here I stood in a good spot to take the challenge- not on a mountaintop, but on a secluded portion of beautiful San Onofre Beach.
I contemplated kneeling right there on the beach, just a few yards from the surf. It was early morning. The only people visible were a few hundred yards south. But in a fifteen minute span someone might walk by. The prospect would be distracting.
Perhaps I should just wait- maybe do this fifteen minute prayer thing some other time. My heart wasn’t in it anyway. And yet, the challenge kept rolling around in my mind. If I was going to do it, this was the time. I eyed the vertical bluffs that rose high above the beach. If I could get up there, it would be perfect. There would be no distractions. And then I spotted a hint of a path, very faint, which might lead to the top.
The climb was difficult and caused me to suck deep breaths of air. When I finally reached the top I stood there in my running shoes and shorts for a moment and looked down on the sea. Even from here I could hear the steady rolling of the surf far below. I had long since removed my shirt during a five-mile run which I had completed just minutes before. Now I used it to wipe my brow.
As I thought again about praying like this, I felt just a little foolish. What was so magical about fifteen minutes? My heart still wasn’t into this. But then I spread my shirt on the ground and kneeled down. I bowed before my maker, paused to look at my watch, and then began to pray.
I began by apologizing to the Lord, for He knew all too well of my skepticism in this exercise. And then I continued praying. I prayed about life’s challenges and the stumbling blocks in my path. I prayed for those that I loved- my family and friends. And of course I gave thanks. As I poured out my heart to Heavenly Father, the more focused I became. Only twice did I even think to peek at my watch. And when I finally said amen, I had long surpassed the fifteen minute mark.
I was so engrossed in the prayer that it wasn’t until I opened my eyes that I realized that a swarm of bugs were now crawling on my bare skin. I stood and gently brushed them off. While taking in the beauty of the ocean and the surf below, I contemplated my prayer and how I felt inside. Finally, as I turned and made my way back down the steep slope to the sandy beach below, I had to admit that my friend was right. The Spirit had warmed me- and was warming me. I was much closer to the Lord than I was fifteen minutes earlier. The peaceful glow of the Spirit went with me down the steep slope to the beach. It continued with me as I headed south toward my motorcycle, which was more than three miles away.
My shoes sunk into the soft sand as I walked. It was then that I noticed the rocks in the surf. There were thousands of them, mingled with the sand in large piles. Many were baseball size, though some were larger and some smaller. They were dark in color, gray perhaps, until the waters of the surf crashed against them and they changed to pure black. And then a single stone caught my eye. It was small, only marble-size, but it stood out in stark contrast against the others. It was pure white- almost translucent. And when the surf wetted its surface it did not grow darker. It glistened even brighter.
I picked it up and marveled at its surface. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t polished. It was warn smooth. It had no rough edges. And though it was nearly pure white, there was just a bit of discoloration on one side. The imperfections didn’t distract from the appearance, but gave the stone character.
I longed to be like the stone- a bright spot against a background of darkness. I wished that I too would glisten brighter, rather than be darkened when doused by life’s frothy waves. As a reminder of the day, of my experience on the bluff, of the peace I now felt, I slipped the rock into the pocket of my shorts.
Continuing on my way, I spotted another stone similar to the first, and a little further on, yet another. And so I knelt and picked up one stone, and then another, until I had sufficient to share with those I loved. And of course, included was the friend that issued the challenge of the fifteen-minute prayer.
Her challenge didn’t settle well. After all, does the length of a prayer determine if God hears it? Besides, I felt a little resentful at having been issued the challenge in the first place. Who was she to imply that I needed this change. And yet here I stood in a good spot to take the challenge- not on a mountaintop, but on a secluded portion of beautiful San Onofre Beach.
I contemplated kneeling right there on the beach, just a few yards from the surf. It was early morning. The only people visible were a few hundred yards south. But in a fifteen minute span someone might walk by. The prospect would be distracting.
Perhaps I should just wait- maybe do this fifteen minute prayer thing some other time. My heart wasn’t in it anyway. And yet, the challenge kept rolling around in my mind. If I was going to do it, this was the time. I eyed the vertical bluffs that rose high above the beach. If I could get up there, it would be perfect. There would be no distractions. And then I spotted a hint of a path, very faint, which might lead to the top.
The climb was difficult and caused me to suck deep breaths of air. When I finally reached the top I stood there in my running shoes and shorts for a moment and looked down on the sea. Even from here I could hear the steady rolling of the surf far below. I had long since removed my shirt during a five-mile run which I had completed just minutes before. Now I used it to wipe my brow.
As I thought again about praying like this, I felt just a little foolish. What was so magical about fifteen minutes? My heart still wasn’t into this. But then I spread my shirt on the ground and kneeled down. I bowed before my maker, paused to look at my watch, and then began to pray.
I began by apologizing to the Lord, for He knew all too well of my skepticism in this exercise. And then I continued praying. I prayed about life’s challenges and the stumbling blocks in my path. I prayed for those that I loved- my family and friends. And of course I gave thanks. As I poured out my heart to Heavenly Father, the more focused I became. Only twice did I even think to peek at my watch. And when I finally said amen, I had long surpassed the fifteen minute mark.
I was so engrossed in the prayer that it wasn’t until I opened my eyes that I realized that a swarm of bugs were now crawling on my bare skin. I stood and gently brushed them off. While taking in the beauty of the ocean and the surf below, I contemplated my prayer and how I felt inside. Finally, as I turned and made my way back down the steep slope to the sandy beach below, I had to admit that my friend was right. The Spirit had warmed me- and was warming me. I was much closer to the Lord than I was fifteen minutes earlier. The peaceful glow of the Spirit went with me down the steep slope to the beach. It continued with me as I headed south toward my motorcycle, which was more than three miles away.
My shoes sunk into the soft sand as I walked. It was then that I noticed the rocks in the surf. There were thousands of them, mingled with the sand in large piles. Many were baseball size, though some were larger and some smaller. They were dark in color, gray perhaps, until the waters of the surf crashed against them and they changed to pure black. And then a single stone caught my eye. It was small, only marble-size, but it stood out in stark contrast against the others. It was pure white- almost translucent. And when the surf wetted its surface it did not grow darker. It glistened even brighter.
I picked it up and marveled at its surface. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t polished. It was warn smooth. It had no rough edges. And though it was nearly pure white, there was just a bit of discoloration on one side. The imperfections didn’t distract from the appearance, but gave the stone character.
I longed to be like the stone- a bright spot against a background of darkness. I wished that I too would glisten brighter, rather than be darkened when doused by life’s frothy waves. As a reminder of the day, of my experience on the bluff, of the peace I now felt, I slipped the rock into the pocket of my shorts.
Continuing on my way, I spotted another stone similar to the first, and a little further on, yet another. And so I knelt and picked up one stone, and then another, until I had sufficient to share with those I loved. And of course, included was the friend that issued the challenge of the fifteen-minute prayer.
