The Saturday Night Prayer Slot

By David Hobbs

In May of 2002 our church started a 24 hour prayer chain, of which I was asked to play a key role. We had done a similar prayer chain 8 years before, and I had prayed for an hour from 11-midnight on Thursdays for a year or so. But this time I wanted a longer block of time to get deeper into the Spirit and farther away from the world. The shallow, superficial, “go-to-meetings” brand of Christianity was leaving me unsatisfied. I decided 3 hours sounded long enough.
But where to find a three hour block of time? The nighttime seemed to be the only answer in our busy lifestyles. (Even my weekends were often busier than the weekdays). But which night? And how could I adjust to losing that much sleep in a night and still go on with life? The only practical answer was Saturday night. I could sleep in Sunday morning and recover from the sleep deficit. And Saturday night was in the middle of the weekend so my mind would not be consumed with business cares like it was going to church Wednesday night. And as an added bonus, it would come soon after Saturday night service, when I should still be infused with a measure of the Spirit. So I picked the Saurday night slot from 2-5 in the morning (technically Sunday morn.)
Now, where to pray? When it started out, it was still spring and cool at night, so I prayed at my house, lighting a bunch of candles for atmosphere. Fortunately, our house is arranged in such a way you can walk in a circle through the main rooms, important for staying awake at night.
I found that 3 hours was long enough to go through cycles in prayer: like there might be a time of repentance and sorrow for sin, a time of praise and singing, a time of deep worship, and then still time for some fervent intercession. You could cover a lot of ground in 3 hours!
But the house gradually became inadequate: it was too small and developed too much “sameness” about it. Also I had to be mindful of others sleeping, so I could only be so loud.
Next I moved to the railroad bridge outside of town, one of my favorite prayer spots for years. It was well away from humanity, there was plenty of room to walk, and the ever changing train schedule made each night different. I had some wonderful times of prayer in my 3 hour slots out there.
The main problem with the bridge was the intimidating power of the darkness. It just didn’t feel right to raise my voice. I could sing softly, worship and pray, but it was difficult to shout or declare or preach! And of course I couldn’t read the Bible either out loud or to myself. Also the weather was not always favorable. On the bridge I was exposed to the wind, which even on a summer’s night could be brisk. Some still summer evenings were perfect! But it was hard to be so at the mercy of the weather.
The final option was out at the church. Marcine had a key from her job as janitor there, and I made sure it was all right if I prayed out there. But I only wanted to be there at night if it was with someone else; being in the big church at night alone was too scary for me. The building was so big you couldn’t necessarily know, being in one part, what might be going on in another. (Hence a feeling of not being in control!)
At first I had no trouble getting people to pray out there with me, even in the middle of the night, getting up to seven people one night! But as time wore on it got harder and harder. For awhile, if I couldn’t get anyone to pray with me I would pray at the tracks or at home if the weather was bad. But then there would be times people would say they would come and not show up, or maybe only give a tentative commitment in the first place. I wouldn’t know when, or even if they would come. I had to face down my own fears of praying alone in the church.
Once I faced them squarely and overcame them, it ceased being a problem, and in fact became a delight. There were times I would have to confront fear, like when strange sounds were heard, or walking into a dark room. But I always locked the door after me so no one could wander in unannounced (Satan’s whole strategy is to make us afraid, to cause a fear reaction that he can take and plunge into our spirit like a spear and create an opening that he can continue to exploit every time we’re in fearful situations. I still have to be on guard when praying alone in the church at night, but not against what might happen, rather against fear itself. When I sense fear trying to rise up in me, I respond with a barrage of tongues and don’t give in to it.
The church really was the perfect place. I could be as loud as I wanted to be: read, pray, sing, walk, dance . . . . (And the prayer chain continued for about 4 years before it finally petered out.) Once I arrived at the point of being comfortable praying alone in the church at night, I had by far my greatest experiences in the Lord, some of which I will now relate.