Tonight, I heard the best missionary prayer. I don't actually remember the words (it wasn't particularly flowery or literary—those kinds are dreadfully artificial), but I certainly remember the spirit under which the prayer was "groaned."
It was at a conference that ended the evening with a parade of nations. People in beautiful traditional clothing walked on stage while Ruth, an old missionary who had long served the Lord by spreading the gospel, narrated facts about the particular country of the model. She talked about the needs, as well as the state of the church in the country. When she finished, the whole cast of models walked back on stage, forming a very impressive array of colors. With an almost parental pride, she beamed at the incredible diversity of nations. Then, she closed the parade with a prayer for all the peoples.
It started like your standard missionary prayer, where the prayer leader generically asks for God's compassion on the unreached peoples of the world—except that Ruth started crying. It was as though she was not a retired missionary who was done with her labor after many decades, but a person who just heard her calling for the first time and realized how great the need was. With sincerity and longing, she prayed to the end. As soon as she said Amen, she quickly apologized to us for crying, embarrassed that she had cried after such a triumphant conclusion of a beautiful fashion show.
She apologized, because, I imagine, she saw it as an act of weakness. An emotional woman! One who can't control herself, not even on stage. Or perhaps, she thought she showed the wrong emotion at what should have been a celebration. But how wrong she was. No one saw any weakness, only the strength of love. When she first cried, I was so amazed that I asked God to make me just like her—a person broken by the very things that breaks God's heart; grieved by the same tragedy. There I stood, praying for decades, and never had I prayed with such brokenness and with so many tears for the salvation of even those whom I loved, much less the generic billions of lost.
May God grant me the same fervor—double even! (for Elisha asked for such a thing)—for His lost children. May God hear Ruth's prayer for an abundant harvest. And may His good favor follow this giant of a woman until He takes her home. But not too soon, Lord, for you know how much we still need her example and leadership.
