Alive to You and Dead to Me

There once was a young believer who was a bit of a know-it-all and wanted to be the best at everything he did. He heard about a very holy monk who was considered a spiritual master in regard to prayer and contemplation.

The seminarian sought him out and asked the old monk to teach him all of his secrets for prayer. The monk took him out behind the monastery to a body of water. He still hadn't said a word. As they entered into the water up just past their waist, the young man grew impatient with the monk, who was still silent.

All of a sudden, the monk grabbed him and held his head under the water. The seminarian struggled and thrashed about, but with the monk held him under the water. As the monk let go of him, he came up gasping for breath, embarrassed, angry, and confused. The monk looked at him and said, 'Until you pray with the same desperation that you have for air, you have not prayed.'

I’m not sure I agree with the old monk entirely, but he is certainly onto something important. A lot of people pray in a lot of ways but among the ancient masters there seemed to be at least this in common. Prayer didn’t seem to be something they added to their day, it was their day. Prayer became, for most of them, the center of everything else. This drawing closer to God – for that is what prayer should be – was the most treasured time in their lives.

I want to be closer to God, as well. To sit at the feet of the master seems a worthy goal and yet prayer, if I can fit it in at all, is a hurried and often perfunctory thing. As Keith Green once sang:

My eyes are dry
My faith is old
My heart is hard
My prayers are cold
And I know how I ought to be
Alive to You and dead to me

Thank you for praying for the ministry and the requests that we receive. And please, if you have time, pray for me, that I might draw closer to God.