In 1968, chemist Spencer Silver focused on developing an ultra-strong adhesive for use in airplane construction. He failed at that attempt, and instead created a pressure sensitive adhesive weak enough to pull on and off repeatedly without tearing paper.
Six years later, Arthur Fry, a chemical engineer also at 3M, used that weak adhesive to keep bookmarks from falling out of his hymnal when he sang in the church choir. Eventually the company became convinced of its universal use. By 1980, the adhesive was used on tiny pieces of paper, marketed as Post It Notes. They stick, but not too much, both movable and removable.
By definition, Post It Notes are not designed to last forever, but serve as a reminder, flagging a thought, a page, or an appointment. But over time, its short-lived adhesive is just that: a temporary fix. Sadly Post It Notes are how most of us view prayer. We just stick a prayer on a request or a situation, like a casual “I’ll pray for you!” We pray, and sometimes we don’t. We consider prayer with a temporary stickiness, lasting awhile perhaps, until it falls off our radar.
But long after we think our prayer post-it-notes are lost, or blown away in the wind, or no longer applicable, God does not forget. Little do we realize, but our prayers have an ultra-strong adhesive quality. God brings His supernatural strength and His enduring grip to it. Prayer has no past tense, but vibrant in the context of a much bigger narrative, a super-glue resistance. God works much deeper than abridged singular outcomes. Only eternal ones.
The past, present and future are inexplicable and inextricable, because God is not limited by time. When we do pray, prayers stick.
This past week, I received a text from an excited friend that her son just received a new job nearby. I had nearly forgotten that we had prayed for him, now many months ago.
But God didn’t.
Prayers stick, even far beyond our lifetimes. Would we pray differently if we realized that? Do we believe if we prayed, it would make an eternal difference? Praying is always a long game. We just don’t grasp the enormity of it.
A godly Dutch watchmaker in 1844 started a prayer meeting dedicated to pray for the well-being of the Jewish community in his town. Exactly one hundred years later, in 1944, Corrie ten Boom and her family were arrested and imprisoned for saving hundreds of Jewish lives and hiding Jews in their home. That man who committed to praying was Corrie’s grandfather Willem who died in 1891,the year before she was born. Little did he know how profoundly his prayer would impact his immediate family, his community, and the unfolding of an ongoing story.
The strength of prayer is not found in our own trying harder or praying more, but in God’s response to our coming before Him. It is in the act of praying that our hearts are changed, but not God’s. “Not my will but Yours.” When we pray, we realize that the super-glue of prayer does not belong to us, but His strong hold on us, as God “gives us a secure hold within His holy place.” Ezra 9. 8
Praying is not about answers after all, but the deepening of our relationship with Him and knowing His tenacious hold on us. The psalmist recognizes “Nevertheless I am continually with You; You hold my right hand.” Psalm 73. 23
God doesn’t forget. He never does. Our prayers are precious to Him.
….and golden bowls full of incense, which are the prayers of the saints. Revelation 5. 8
And God makes sure they stick.
1 comment:
Prayer has no past tense. 👍
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