New life resolutions

After being rather productive in my 2008 resolution-keeping (getting a keyboard, taking dance lessons, re-reading the Chronicles), I rather expected myself to develop another set of fun-but-productive goals for 2009. In many ways, resolutions represent so much of my approach to life. It’s the debater mindset: plan meet need. After all, such planning seems sage, even economical, and provides a sense of accomplishment in an uncertain world where other people’s devices and priorities are so liable to interfere with our own.
But what God ended up showing me during my time in San Diego was something altogether different.
Whenever I am with my parents, I am challenged and encouraged by their prayer life. I have never doubted the power of prayer, but there is something so tangibly different about their lives as a result of the discipline of prayer that it drew a stark contrast to the panic and frustration that sometimes characterizes my daily routine. Part of it is inherent in my job, but I also know that I don’t always react to circumstances the way I should because prayer has not been my priority.
Prayer also widens the lens on your view of the world. When I don’t pray, I find myself less inclined to think about others; I focus largely on myself and mine. My mind hasn’t turned as often to the desperate times facing our nation and world because almost everyone I care about is, for the most part, okay.
And then I read this section of John Piper’s Desiring God. The circumstances sounded familiar, as if snatched from last night’s evening news:

[In the 1850s…] The third great panic in American history swept the giddy structure of speculative wealth away. Thousands of merchants were forced to the wall as banks failed and railroads went into bankruptcy. Factories were shut down and vast numbers thrown out of employment, New York City alone having 30,000 idle men. In October 1857, the hearts of people were thoroughly weaned from speculation and uncertain gain, while hunger and despair stared them in the face.

I admit I know very little of this particular era of American history, but it sounds as if it was quite worse than our current circumstances.
What must the godly do in the midst of such trials?

On July 1, 1857, a quiet and zealous businessman named Jeremiah Lanphier took up an appointment as a City Missionary in down-town New York… the new City Missionary was engaged to make diligent visitation in the immediate neighborhood with a view to enlisting church attendance among the floating population of the lower city.
Burdened so by the need, Jeremiah Lanphier decided to invite others to join him in a noonday prayer-meeting, to be held on Wednesdays once a week. He therefore distributed a handbill:

HOW OFTEN SHALL I PRAY?
As often as the language of prayer is in my heart; as often as I see my need of help; as often as I feel the power of temptation; as often as I am made sensible of any spiritual declension or feel the aggression of a worldly spirit.
In prayer we leave the business of time for that of eternity, and intercourse with men for intercourse with God.
A day Prayer Meeting is held every Wednesday, from 12 to 1 o'clock, in the Consistory building in the rear of the North Dutch Church, corner of Fulton and William Streets.
This meeting is intended to give merchants, mechanics, clerks, strangers, and business men generally an opportunity to stop and call upon God amid the perplexities incident to their respective avocations. It will continue for one hour; but it is also designed for those who may find it inconvenient to remain more than five or ten minutes, as well as for those who can spare the whole hour.

Accordingly at twelve noon, September 23, 1857, the door was opened and the faithful Lanphier took his seat to await the response to his invitation. Five minutes went by. No one appeared. The missionary paced the room in a conflict of fear and faith. Ten minutes elapsed. Still no one came. Fifteen minutes passed. Lanphier was yet alone. Twenty minutes; twenty-five; thirty; and then at 12.30 p.m., a step was heard on the stairs, and the first person appeared, then another, and another, and another, until six people were present, and the prayer meeting began. On the following Wednesday, there were forty intercessors.
Thus, in the first week of October 1857, it was decided to hold a meeting daily instead of weekly.
Within six months, ten thousand business men were gathering daily for prayer in New York, and within two years, a million converts were added to the American churches.
Undoubtedly the greatest revival in New York's colorful history was sweeping the city, and it was of such an order to make the whole nation curious. There was no fanaticism, no hysteria, simply an incredible movement of the people to pray.

Are you not startled and amazed by this? Why have I, as a thoroughly-churched American in her mid-twenties, never heard this story? Why do we forget the very victories God gives us and then wonder how we will overcome, when God has given us communion with Him through prayer? How will we be prepared to meet the challenges of this world unless we turn to God?
What if we political types started doing this - praying for people instead of policies? Spent time focusing on Heaven rather than the next election?
We who are believers are called to walk in newness of life. What I need is not a new year’s resolution – I need to pursue my new life resolutions, those which will effect and endure into eternity. I must learn what it is to live a life of prayer.
What that looks like – what that is – I cannot tell for certain. But my heart tells me it is a resolution worth striving for.