I grew up in a rambling, pre-1860s farmhouse in rural southwestern Michigan. We had a “Michigan basement”,” “– unfinished dirt floors, walls made of fieldstone and rocks, crudely cemented together, exposed floorboards and joists from the ground floor providing a ceiling. A rickety wooden stairway ended in a small cemented landing. It was a haven for dust and cobwebs, and everything in the basement had a grimy film of dust mixed with the residue of an old oil-burning furnace. It was littered with “dead” things– a rusted-out bicycle frame from the 1940s; a long-forgotten set of rattan patio furniture with mildewed pads and broken wicker bits sticking out underneath; a broken rake; and, in one corner, what looked like the skeleton of a small rodent. There was an old cabinet, formerly with two doors, now standing with one door hanging askew, and the other one missing all but half a hinge piece. Inside were old Mason jars, rimmed with lime deposits, holding nails, screws, nuts and bolts, and other odds and ends, and more Mason jars holding home-canned tomatoes from a garden of unknown vintage. There was a single 40-watt incandescent light bulb screwed into an ancient ceramic socket and mounted on one of the overhead floorboards, which did little to diminish the general sense of gloom and decay. There were four small windows–but they had long ago succumbed to grime and dirt from inside and out. It was the stuff of childhood nightmares.
Last week, we had a tornado warning, and one of my friends from church spoke of taking her children to the basement to wait out the weather. It reminded me of my own mother, gathering my sister and I– sometimes pulling us from our beds– and taking us to shelter in the basement until a storm had passed. My father often worked the night shift, and so the job was left to Mom to herd us into the southwest corner of the basement, being sure to bring a blanket and a flashlight, and make sure we were wearing slippers or shoes. She also had an old portable AM/FM radio, so we could listen to the weather bulletins amidst the gloom and dust and damp of the basement.
And yet–
My memories of going to the basement during a storm are not memories that inspire terror or disgust. I never wanted to visit the basement any other time, but during a storm, it was our “safe” place. The winds and rain and hail might rage outside, but we were warm and snug (sometimes too warm!) in our little corner. And no matter how frightened my mom may have been, she always reassured us that we would be safe together in that place. And then, she would lead us in prayer. We prayed that Dad would be safe at work. We prayed for anyone who was in the path of the storm. We prayed that God would protect our house. We prayed for those who were on the road, and for those who would have to go out after the storm to fix electric lines or rescue others. And we thanked God for our basement!
Sometimes, God uses grubby basements to be our “safe” place. What otherwise may seem like a scary situation can become a cause for praise and celebration when we remember that God is with us!
I think of the prophet Jeremiah, who was arrested and thrown into a cistern–a place far worse than our basement– but God caused him to be rescued (https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Jeremiah%2038&version=NIV). He went from the mud-filled cistern to the palace of the King! And even though Jeremiah faced many other trials and griefs, Jeremiah was able to write: “
I remember my affliction and my wandering, the bitterness and the gall. 20 I well remember them, and my soul is downcast within me. 21 Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope:
22 Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. 23 They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. 24 I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.” (Lamentations 3:19-24 NIV)
And I think of Paul and Silas in prison in Philippi (https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Acts%2016:16-34&version=ESV ). They sang and prayed after having been beaten and unfairly arrested. And they were trapped in the prison when an earthquake hit! But the end result was not only their vindication and freedom, but salvation for the Philippian jailor and his family!
There are seasons when we are forced to go to the basement–literally and figuratively. There are times when we must sit and wait in the dark and damp, uncertain of where the storm will hit or how long it will last. But often, in those basement moments, we find ourselves closer to God than when we climb mountains! God sits with us in the gloom. God has the power to turn our fear and uncertainty into praise and worship. And God will bring those memories of His comfort and strength back to us in other times of trouble.
Have you ever prayed at a stoplight? I don’t mean the kind of prayer where you ask God to turn the light green “NOW” or ask Him to please keep the yellow light from turning red as you speed through it… Have you ever used the time waiting at the stoplight to pray? Or time spent waiting in line at the bank? Waiting to pick up your kids from school? Waiting at the copier for a batch-print? Waiting for your number to be called at the license bureau?
Time is a commodity– a precious gift. And too often, we lament that there “isn’t enough time” for prayer in our lives. We may lead busy lives, filled with activity. But how much time do we spend waiting for “something else,” or “someone else,” to show up or happen or finish happening?
Instead of growing frustrated in these times of waiting, why not utilize our time by praying? The Apostle Paul urged believers to “16 Rejoice always, 17 pray without ceasing, 18 give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.? (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18). Paul and Silas never waited at a stoplight for any of their mission trips, but I’m sure they experienced “down” time in many of their travels. And what better time to pray than when you are stuck on a ship (or a commuter train, bus, taxi, etc.) ?
Of course, I don’t recommend praying with your eyes closed as you drive, but you can still pray. You can pray as you drive, bike, hike, shop, sit, or eat! You can pray from the doctor’s office, or the laundromat– anywhere you have to wait. You can pray silently, or out loud (as long as you’re not interrupting others). You can pray about “small” things or deep concerns. You can pray for 5 seconds or 20 minutes. Just Pray!
Just a couple of tips to help make this a habit:
Keep a running prayer list on your phone or device– or on a simple notepad– somewhere handy when you are traveling.
Have a daily focus for prayer, so when you are stopped, you already have a topic in mind; one that can be picked up as a thread throughout the day. (For more help with this, see my page on “Prayer Points.”) For example, on Mondays, I pray for family and friends; if I’m stuck in traffic, I can pray for one (or two) of them. If I’m waiting longer, I can pray for a whole family! If I’ve already prayed in the morning for the whole family, I can think about friends with whom I’ve lost touch!
Use your “stoplight” moments for praise– think of one to three things for which you are thankful; or “pray” a short chorus or a verse you have memorized.
Practice 1 Thessalonians 5:18, and thank God for your current circumstances. Are you at the dentist, waiting to get your tooth filled? Thank God you have teeth, and the means to keep them healthy! Are you picking up your daughter from softball practice? Thank God for her ability and interest in sports!
You might be amazed at how many opportunities God gives throughout each day to spend time with Him in prayer– and how quickly all that time “flies” as you are “just waiting” around!
Pursuing Prayer 