We wanted to live brave, but we didn’t know how. I can’t say the start to Imperfectly Brave came with fireworks. It all started as nothing, really. We decided one day that we would pray. That we would carve out time to pray like we carve out our lives. Because we do carve out our lives. We create space for that which we love. We make grooves in our couches for those we love. We dance when the tune hits the right nerve in our soul.
Even if it means we dance in our kitchen. Even if it means we look like fools.
Humans are good-carvers of our own lives.
But even I now, I am not the best carver of my life. God is. And this is why I pray.
Two friends and myself decided we would carve out time to pray. Together. We decided we would hold it with open hands — this whole idea of creating space to gather on couches and look straight into each other’s eyes and say:
I see you.
I love you.
I want to encourage you.
I am praying we all transform.
Now our couches have become our holy places and our coffee cups a place to hold our tears. It’s one of my dearest places; that couch and what’s been whispered over it.
But my couch wasn’t always this. In my reality, prayer can be pushed aside. It’s the last thing I might resort to, even when I know its power. Even now, in these words, I can tell you I know that the prayer of faith can move mountains, and yet I don’t pray.
“If you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move here to there.’ and it will move, and nothing will be impossible for you.” Matthew 17:20 ESV
Because if I’m honest, it’s hard. Prayer is tough some days. Like I am talking to an invisible force with no visible reaction. I think this is why some days I pray quietly, like I can’t quite eek out my voice loud enough because I am fumbling around just to see if He is still there.
But, He is always there.
And then there are the days that I can pray out loud; good and passionate and loud. I can declare, “Yes! He listens! Yes! He moves” I can put my hand on your shoulder and pray with all kind of authority that Jesus Christ will and can and is coming to your aid.
I have days like this, too.
The thing about days is that they are all different. They all come at me with new mercy, but they come at me with different angles. Dreams, to-do lists, grocery store runs, singing ABCs. Some days are lonelier than others; some fuller than the yesterdays. But they are days all the same and I’m learning that in our days, we want this: to be seen, to be loved, to be encouraged, to be transformed.
Me and you and the whole wide world; we want this.
So what about all that carving out space to pray? Well, it’s become sacred. Now, four women (and women around the nation) come into my home to pray. They come quietly, willingly, needy for no other reason than this: we’ve tasted what it is like to be seen by God and each other.
And it tastes good.
Some days we pray out loud with fervor and passion because that invisible force is so near, He drips. And some days we listen to music and sway our bodies and pray quiet prayers because it all hurts too much. But what we do know when we carve out space to pray is this:
He sees us.
He loves us.
He encourages us.
He transforms us.
And we pray together because we can leave saying this:
I see you.
I love you.
I want to cheer for you.
I’m watching you transform.
Now we watch Him move mountains; in fact, we watch Him carve out entirely new landscapes and then we gather all over again in soft couches to pray loud and soft and fervent and needy prayers. Because watching God carve and build and design is far better when we can fall back into couches and seek Him — together.
If you want to learn more about how to carve out space to pray, you can read more about imperfectly brave prayer groups. Maybe today is the day that you step into your bravest place. Join the movement. God is transforming women. On their knees. Together.