Ben Patterson

“Jack Sanford looks back fondly on childhood visits to the old family farmhouse in New Hampshire. In particular, he’s never forgotten the old well that stood outside the front door. The water from the well was surprisingly pure and cold, and no matter how hot the summer or how severe the drought, the well was always dependable, a source of refreshment and joy. The faithful old well was a big part of his memories of summer vacations at the family farmhouse. Time passed and eventually the farmhouse was modernized. Wiring brought electric lights, and indoor plumbing brought hot and cold running water. The old well was no longer needed, so it was sealed shut. Years later while vacationing at the farmhouse, Sanford hankered for the cold, pure water of his youth. So he unsealed the well and lowered the bucket for a nostalgic taste of the delightful refreshment he once knew. But he was shocked to discover that the well that had once survived the worst droughts was bone dry. Perplexed, he began to ask questions of the locals who knew about these kinds of things. He learned that wells of that sort were fed by hundreds of tiny underground rivulets, which seep a steady flow of water. As long as water is drawn out of the well, new water will flow in through the rivulets, keeping them open for more to flow. But when the water stops flowing, the rivulets clog with mud and close up. The well dried up not because it was used too much but because it wasn’t used enough. Our souls are like that well. If we do not draw regularly and frequently on the living water that Jesus promised would well up in us like a spring,66 our hearts will close and dry up. The consequence of not drinking deeply of God is to eventually lose the ability to drink at all. Prayerlessness is its own worst punishment, both its disease and cause. David’s description of his prayer life is a picture of a man who knew the importance of frequent, regular prayer—disciplined prayer, each morning. Each morning I bring my requests to you and wait expectantly. He knew how important it was to keep the water flowing—that from the human side of prayer, the most important thing to do is just to keep showing up. Steady, disciplined routine may be the most underrated necessity of the prayerful life.”
― Ben Patterson, God's Prayer Book: The Power and Pleasure of Praying the Psalms

“I entrust my spirit into your hand. Rescue me, LORD, for you are a faithful God. (5) What a way to go. What a way to pray as you go. In Luke’s account of the Crucifixion, the words of Psalm 31:5 are the last Jesus prayed before he gave up his spirit and died.118 Some biblical scholars believe these words were also the first prayer every Jewish mother taught her child to pray before going to sleep at night. When Jesus prayed this prayer on the cross, he added “Father” to it. Jesus died, it seems, the way a child falls to sleep in his father’s arms.119 Falling to sleep has long been regarded as a prefigurement, a kind of rehearsal for dying. My mother taught me a prayer as a child that I prayed at night. For years it was a comfort, a sweet, innocuous palliative, until I thought about the words I was praying: “Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.” That bit about dying before I wake kept me awake, but not indefinitely. As anxious as I got about the possibility of dying while I slept, I still succumbed to sleep. I eventually had to give up and let go. The choice was not whether to fall into sleep but how: in trust and hope or in fear and despair. The same is true when it comes to dying.”
― Ben Patterson, God's Prayer Book: The Power and Pleasure of Praying the Psalms