AL: Today, being the National Day of Prayer, many friends will be joining hands around the country in praise and intercession. We all have friends that we enjoy praying with... other believers who are like-minded, like-hearted, people who energize our own prayer life... Joni, you must have friends like that... or maybe several across the country?
JONI: Oh yes. And my friend Patti is one. Patti gets me up, dressed, and sitting in my wheelchair every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday morning. We enjoy our morning times together, but I especially like it when we say goodbye.
AL: Wait a minute... you say goodbye – you enjoy that?
JONI: That’s when we pray.
AL: Of course!
JONI: We’re usually out in the garage by then, and right before she helps me in the van and goes on her way, we pause. It’s a long and quiet and contemplative kind of pause right at the open garage door. We take a deep breath, look out on the day, and then, a breeze tosses our hair and a neighbor’s dog barks. This morning, the trees were swaying in the wind — the tops of the cedars. And as the streets are quiet and the trees across the street move gently in the wind... we pray. We call them our “garage prayers.”
AL: Wait a minute... you’ve got me on that one. You’d better explain “garage prayers.”
JONI: Patti and I would define garage prayers as intercessions (although prayed in a confined space — hence, the name “garage”) ... these are intercessions that bust far beyond the four walls of that garage to shake kingdoms and upset nations, to jar governments and to jolt souls that are dead and jerk wayward hearts back in line. We pray for our husbands, that grace would be poured out into their lives, that God’s perspective and peace would fill their minds, that they might keep growing into the men of the Word the Lord wants them to be. We pray for missionaries and children in Africa, we ask, “Lord, Jesus, remember this day those for whom no one is interceding... those whom others have forgotten... those relegated to back bedrooms in mountain villages... those languishing in institutions... those locked away, struggling against hopelessness and despair. Remember these, dear Lord... just as we remember them in this garage.”
Last Thursday morning, after Patti and I had enjoyed our usual time of praying and singing of a hymn, I turned to her and smiled. The breeze was especially light and the street was more quiet than usual. It was a lovely day and so, I took a moment to stretch the morning out a bit longer. I said, “Patti, I think you and I are really going to enjoy that day — some day — when we arrive in Heaven and we shall sit somewhere — I’m not sure where, but it will be somewhere — and we’ll watch videos of all the people and all the places, all the countries and regions of the world, all the institutions... we’ll see videos of those back bedrooms and the people in them, and the hearts in them which were touched and changed, which were jerked and jolted, shaken and jarred for the Kingdom of Christ.
AL: Joni, if I’m not being intrusive, I’d like to look over yours and Patti’s shoulder at those videos too if I may.
JONI: You’re more than welcome.
AL: I’ll bring popcorn.
JONI: With butter! I hope they have butter in heaven!
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JONI AND FRIENDS
P.O. Box 3333
Agoura Hills, CA 93176
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