A Year of Living Prayerfully: How a Curious Traveler Met the Pope, Walked on Coals, Danced with Rabbis, and Revived His Prayer Life

There is a season for everything under the sun—even when we can’t see the sun.

Inner stillness is the key to outer strength.

The next morning we experienced our very first “full English breakfast,” which consisted of tea, orange juice, cookies, oatmeal, granola, berries, bananas, croissants, grapes, pineapples, prunes, yogurt, five kinds of cold cereal, eggs, hash browns, back bacon, sausage, smoked salmon, tomatoes, mushrooms, beans, toast, butter, jam, jelly, and honey. I don’t know how the British do it.

The battle belongs to the Lord, and we already know that He wins the war.

Shalom is the medicine I’d prescribe for Jerusalem—a deep, God-breathed indwelling of peace and prosperity and blessing. An end to the unrest and a sense of wholeness is what the Holy City needs. It’s what the Middle East needs. It’s what I need.

Prayer is meant to happen everywhere. After all, Daniel prayed in the lion’s den. Jonah prayed in a fish’s stomach. Elijah prayed in the desert. And Jesus prayed on the cross.

The Kingdom of Heaven wants to rest in our hearts.

Work is easy when it’s full of meaning and shared with others.

Rest in the knowledge that God is both abundantly gracious and ridiculously generous.

Strength is gathered on the journey, not granted at the outset.

What if making peace with our warring hearts—peace within—is the first step to world peace?

I definitely felt out of place at first, not unlike being lactose intolerant in Wisconsin.

Thank God for a little holy disobedience.

It was as though all the most fundamentalist people of all three religions had descended upon the Old City, leaving no room for even simple things like politeness and common courtesy. There was no love in the city of God.

Prayer is simply a constant communion with Christ.

Prayer changes us because that’s what relationships do.

Left to our own devices, we will make God in our own image.

The greatest response to life is gratefulness.

Remember that when you leave this earth, you can take with you nothing that you have received—only what you have given.” ST. FRANCIS OF ASSISI

Somewhere, somehow, at some unknown intersection between prayer and work, God indwells our humble offering—God indwells us—and turns human actions into spiritual awakenings.

Prayer is about steeping in the Spirit of a God so loving that He totally changes you.

Prayer is the main dish. Everything else is gravy.

Only God gets the glory when revival comes to town.

See every distraction as a clarion call back to prayer.

It’s easier to be close to God during prayer time when you’re close to God all the time.

You have to be near Him to hear Him.