On Learning How to Pray in Color
We showed up with two bags of salad that still needed mixing and a handful of been-in-the-car-too-long flowers that we had gotten for free. I’m getting better at accepting that scattered is how we roll these days.
She whipped open the door, with her beautiful smile and an air full of grace. We had a dinner of scrumptious left overs, chips and queso, and whatever salad didn’t end up on her floor due to William’s “thorough” tossing. We laughed and talked and finished the evening with root beer floats, or as I like to call them, vanilla ice cream with root beer on the side.
As the sun set over her back porch, she began to pull out long strands of beads and set them on the table before us. It is a uniquely beautiful experience to watch a friend talk about the passion behind her vocation. To see someone speak about something they love invites you to love it all the same. As she showed us her precious prayer beads and told their stories, her eyes danced along to the music of her words. Her love for the beads, for the tangible representation of our closeness to God, drew me in as the porch began to fill with a holy presence.
I’m a firm believer that powerful worship often happens outside the church walls, mainly around dinner tables with chips and queso. Monday night did not disappoint. As we studied the symbolism and traditions of prayer beads, the insects and birds began their evening hymns.
With huge amounts of patience and encouragement, she helped us find the beads for our own strands. To symbolize a consistent prayer of mine, I picked out the biggest, boldest colors I could find. Colorful. Simple. Lightweight. Solid. Bold. The same characteristics I have been praying over myself.
Two years ago a dear friend of mine asked me the simple question, "Cecelia, what are you for?" I muttered my answers, swirling my used-to-be-hot coffee. Then she asked, "Is that your life?" The question startled me, but my one word answer did not. I realized that my world and vision had turned dark after living under a burden of shame and a soul-sucking situation I found myself in. And yet, I knew that was not what I was for. I was for color and life and grace and boldness and wine and laughter.
Back on the porch surrounded by beads, I thought of a conversation with a dear friend earlier in the day. She gently mentioned that she saw the theme of shame show up in many areas of my life. Still. We mused together about how I have lived with this burden of shame for several years now and have just started to discover what it looks like to use the Light to expose the shame back to its roots and dig it out of my heart (read more here). Simply put, to heal.
So for me, more color in my life directly relates to healing. With it, it brings more joy, more peace, & enough room to grow in confidence and love. It means sunny days listening to music outdoors with a group of friends. It means quitting things I hate & chasing things I may love. It also means taking risks with ministry and relationships and goals. It means freedom and forgiveness. It means defining myself in new ways and removing the sticky labels I’ve lived under for so long. It means speaking my truth in mercy and grace. It means a loving relationship with Christ and thirsting for His truth. It may not make a lot of sense to you, but as I pray this prayer, I think it makes a ton of sense to God. After all, God created majestic color for us to enjoy and to beckon us back to God.
That evening was simple, yet it was a step in understanding how God beckons us. The beads we made were our own modern, free-form, Protestant twist on an ancient practice used by monks to keep their daily prayer and time with the Lord. As they held the beads in their hands, they were calling on and petitioning the same God we worship today. I’m not sure any of them ever prayed for “color." We know they often used the beads to pray the entire psalter daily. Later, that changed to 150 recitations of the Lord’s Prayer (equal to the number of Psalms in the Bible), while others said “The Jesus Prayer:"
“Lord Jesus, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.”
I am comforted in assuming that our prayers were not that different: to live a life full of wonder and love for God, our Savior, who pours out grace and mercy over our sins and truths. Or, "for more color."
After that evening on her back porch, I find myself clinging to the beads as I petition God throughout the day. As I run my fingers over each smooth surface and pray, I feel connected to a bigger story of faithful prayer and an even more faithful God. In a chorus of "amens" that have gone before me and will go on long after, I find myself clinging to the promise,
'For no matter how many promises God has made, they are "Yes" in Christ.
And so through him the "Amen" is spoken by us to the glory of God.'
2 Corinthians 1:20.
My petition for a colorful life of honoring God and dancing in those sweet mercies is already a 'yes' in Christ Jesus. So now, instead of feeling desperate as they sometimes do, my prayers are empowered, heard, & confident.
They remind me that there is a hope we cling to, there is a true freedom from shame, and there is a burst of colorful joy that we have in Christ Jesus.
To learn more about this sweet Texas native, Kristen Vincent, or Protestant Prayer Beads, visit her website here. She rocks her purpose and invests deeply in others which draws all who are blessed to know her closer and closer to Christ. Kristen and Vincent clan, we cannot thank you enough for your love, support, and laughter. But we mainly are using you for your back porch and cold Dr Peppers.
To read more about William's prayer beads, click here.
