by Kim Avery

It’s big. It’s brown.  It’s ugly. And it’s mine. My new prayer chair has arrived, and I am thrilled.

As soon as I began shopping for my new prayer chair an obstacle emerged. In my old office, I had a large space that the prayer chair could fill, a space large enough for me to sprawl out in prayerful ease (or to fall asleep as I’ve occasionally been known to do.)

This wider expanse allowed me to choose my beloved seat from thousands of couches, love seats, and double wide chairs, each more attractive than the last. It was sheer bliss lining up the contestants and crowning the winning one.

Trouble Ahead

Alas, my new smaller space demands that my chair be an actual chair. Have you ever tried to sprawl (sleep) in a chair? It can turn even the most godly woman into a stiff-necked beast.

Now, I don’t give up on ‘cute’ easily. And so after scouring the internet I discovered a recliner that seemed to fit the bill. Unfortunately, in person the color was a distinct mix of pea green and bizarre yellow giving the chair it a distinctly ghastly glow. And despite it claims to the contrary it was about as comfortable as a wooden church pew.

The search continued with disappointing results. They were…

too orthopedic or

too pink or

too masculine.

Exhausted I drove to the one store where I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt comfortable chairs existed. La-z-y Boy.

And they did. They were soft enough to comfort a grieving heart. They rocked so as to soothe an anxious soul. They reclined so that I could indeed lay down with ease. But they were ugly. No matter how hard they try to disguise it, La-z-y Boy chairs look a lot like La-z-y Boy chairs.

Indecision

Deep sigh.

Right there in the middle of the store, I plopped myself down into the most comfortable chair and had a talk with Jesus.  And I kid you not, this verse came to my mind.  “…and when we shall see him, there is no beauty that we should desire him.” Isaiah 53:2 Apparently, Jesus wasn’t attractive outwardly but He is certainly beautiful to you and me.

So is my new prayer chair and I can’t wait to meet Jesus there.

by Kim Avery

My prayer chair – for years, Jesus and I have met in this special place. My deepest sorrows have all been witnessed by its tear-stained colors and a Savior who cares. The fabric has laughed with me making the very fringe dance, and the cushions bear the indent of deep intercessory prayer.

I love this chair. Together we have lived a life as lovers of God. But no more…

No More

Sadly, as I moved books and phones, furniture and files, pictures and plants into the much smaller office at our new house old faithful didn’t fit.  Oh, I tried. I squeezed it into the corner until it literally overlapped the desk. I placed it in front of the window blocking out the light of the sun. I angled her in front of the shelves until she literally covered the door.  But no amount of effort could help the old girl squeeze in and call this room home.

I went to bed and cried.

Could It Be?

This morning, the voice of reason (also known as my husband, Ron) suggested that this new chapter in my life was inviting a new chair of prayer. The thought intrigues me and the traitorous possibility is niggling away inside.

Of course, THE prayer chair will always be a part of my heart and will NOT be given away. This force of nature shall remain as a part of my home (somewhere? hopefully?).

Ron graciously offered to host her in his very own office down the hall. Hah! As if its laughing fringe could hold the prayers of a masculine heart.

I settled on the bedroom instead, and there she grandly awaits the prayers of each morning and each night to be held in her uplifted arms.

What To Do?

But for the sunlit minutes lived out in my office as I work there all day there stands a hole longing to be filled.  What should I do? Can my chair be replaced? Will my prayers ever be heard again?

If only there were an altar of prayer sitting in my office right now, I would curl my grieving heart up and ask Jesus what He wanted me to do. But my prayer chair is no more…

To be continued…