"And whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, that will I do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son." (John 14:13, KJV)
"If you really want God to bless you, Nancy, you will become a prayer shooter."
"A what?"
The twinkle in Elaine's eye alerted me to the fact that my puzzled expression was just the response she expected--the one she wanted. My friend was about to share a faith-building jewel, and she wanted my full attention.
Since meeting with Elaine Rumley several years ago in the home of a mutual friend, she has become somewhat of a spiritual mentor to me. She is a vivacious, energetic lady whose smile lights up a room because of the love of Jesus Christ that is in her heart. Elaine has followed a military husband all over the world, raised children, and delighted in grandchildren.
She is a delight to be around because of the matter-of-fact way she shares her faith. Sometimes she has strange ideas. Most of them have to do with maintaining a strong prayer life. Elaine is big on prayer. I've often laughingly referred to her as my own personal "dial-a-prayer" because of the times I've punched her number and said, "Hey, friend. How about a prayer? I need one of industrial strength!" Then, kneeling down beside my chair, I have been joined across the miles in praying over a particular need or concern, either for myself or others. I have great confidence in this sister in Christ. It was in one of our early discussions that she suggested I become a prayer shooter.
I took the bait. "A prayer shooter?"
"A prayer-shooter! Try it! It's kind of like a drive-by shooting--except it's a prayer. As you are going about your daily life interacting with people at work, walking down the street, driving in your car, try to really tune in with a spiritual ear or spiritual eye to any needs around you. Then secretly shoot those people with prayer. It'll bless you, Nancy. You'll see."
A few weeks later my son, Scott, was involved in a school competition in a distant city. Dropping him off for rehearsal, I found myself meandering around the streets, looking for a mall to while away the time until I was to pick him up. Traffic was four lanes across, and as various lights turned, faces changed in the lanes beside me. My attention was drawn to a youngster in a flashy red convertible who fretfully shifted gears in the impatient way that young folks with sporty cars do that mirrors their belief in their own invincibility. She looked no older than my own daughter, Laura.
"Lord, keep her safe. Let no harm come to her. If she doesn't know you, please send someone today to cross her path and witness to her."
She disappeared out of my range of sight. Something registered within me. I realized that I had "shot her." Bang!
Traffic inched ahead. An old clunker huffed and smoked asthmatically on my right. A man and a woman were in the front seat, their protruding elbows propped on the rolled down windows, while in back two little blonde heads bobbed up and down trying to see out.
"Lord, please bless that family. Bless them financially and bless them spiritually. Let the family unit grow strong with love and grace. And somewhere today Lord, let someone give them encouragement." Ker-pow!
My spirits rose. It was true. I was learning the blessing of shooting prayers. I got caught up in the joy of it all. A couple passed who looked to be disgruntled and arguing. I prayed for their marriage. "Lord, breathe a new intimacy into their relationship. Remind them of the qualities they appreciated in their partner when the relationship began." Zing!
A vehicle passed proudly bearing one of those bumper stickers, "My money and my son go to [some college]." I prayed for the son. Thwack! I prayed for the parents. Pow-pow! And for the relationships involved. Rat-a-tat!!
At the mall, I offered a prayer for an elderly gentleman whose walk was slow. Bang! Bang! I prayed for his physical well-being, pow! and in response to a nudge in my heart, for his loneliness. Ker-pow!
An expectant mother walked by me with small tell-tale packages under her arm. "Baby stuff," I thought. "Ready. Aim." I prayed for the unborn child, for a safe birthing. Zing! I prayed for its upbringing, for an extra measure of Godly wisdom for the parents. Bang-bang!
I shot practically everybody I saw that afternoon. By the time I arrived back at the rehearsal hall, I was rejoicing in my heart, and humming a prayer of thanksgiving. I had learned something very precious about communication with the Father. I had experienced an exhilarating renewal of God's love in my own spirit by simply praying for complete strangers. I would never know, or even come in contact with the anonymous "victims" of my prayers. But somehow, I felt God would honor those petitions. I had learned one of Elaine's joy secrets.
I had become a prayer shooter.
Nancy Chapman Monroe frequently serves as a women's inspirational speaker at retreats and seminars. This article is an excerpt from her book Earth Calling Heaven--Anybody Home? Her husband, Wayne, is the pastor of Walker United Methodist Church in Greensboro, GA.
This article was printed in Good News magazine (July/August 1996).