The Circle Maker_Praying Circles Around Your Biggest Dreams and Greatest Fears

by Mark Batterson

  93. Hike to Inspiration Point near Jenny Lake in Grand Teton National Park.

  94. Go to a Western rodeo.

  95. Climb to the rock-hewn churches in Lalibela, Ethiopia.

  96. Visit the monasteries of Meteora in Greece.

  97. Go on an African safari.

  98. Walk the Via Dolorosa in the Holy Land.

  99. Visit Jerusalem during a Jewish holiday.

  100. See a kangaroo in Australia.

  101. Snorkel the Great Barrier Reef in Australia.

  102. Kiss Lora on top of the Eiffel Tower in France.

  103. Climb Mount Kilimanjaro.

  104. See the aurora borealis.

  105. Go kayaking in Alaska.

  106. Visit the Castle Church in Wittenberg, Germany.

  107. Take a boat cruise down the Rhine River.

  108. Ride a gondola in Venice.

  109. See the sunrise on Cadillac Mountain in Acadia National

  Park.

  110. Hike the trails in Haleakala National Park in Hawaii.

  111. Straddle the equator.

  112. See the Blue Grotto sea cave in Italy.

  113. Visit the Parthenon in Athens, Greece.

  114. Take a carriage ride through Central Park in New York City.

  115. Stay at the Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island.

  Part 4

  Keep Circling

  The most recent life goal checked off my list was hiking Half Dome in Yosemite National Park with my son, Parker. In terms of degree of difficulty, it ranks right behind hiking the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu and hiking the Grand Canyon from rim to rim. It was a 15.5-mile hike with a 4,800-foot ascent. But the hardest part wasn’t the physical challenge; the hardest part was facing my fear of heights and climbing the cables that scaled the sixty-degree slope to the summit.

  On the morning of the hike, I glanced up at Half Dome from the valley floor, and this thought crossed my mind: How in the world are we going to get up there? It seemed next to impossible, but the answer was quite simple: one step at a time. That’s how you accomplish any goal. You can climb the highest mountain if you simply put one foot in front of the other and refuse to stop until you reach the top.

  Drawing prayer circles is a lot like climbing a mountain. The dream or promise or miracle may seem impossible, but if you keep circling, anything is possible. With each prayer, there is a small change in elevation. With each prayer, you are one step closer to the answer.

  After my hike to Half Dome, I came to this realization: The degree of satisfaction is directly proportional to the degree of difficulty. The harder the climb, the sweeter the summit. The same is true with prayer. The more you have to circle something in prayer, the more satisfying it is spiritually. And, often, the more glory God gets.

  Until recently, I wanted God to answer every prayer ASAP. That is no longer my agenda. I don’t want easy answers or quick answers because I have a tendency to mishandle the blessings that come too easily or too quickly. I take the credit or take them for granted. So now I pray that it will take long enough and be hard enough for God to receive all of the glory. I’m not looking for the path of least resistance; I’m looking for the path of greatest glory. And that requires high-degree-of-difficulty prayers and lots of circling.

  Very rarely does our first prayer request hit the bull’s-eye of God’s good, pleasing, and perfect will. Most prayer requests have to be refined. Even “the prayer that saved a generation” didn’t hit the bull’s-eye the first time. Honi refined his request twice: “Not for such rain have I prayed.” He wasn’t satisfied with a sprinkle or torrential downpour. It took three attempts to spell out exactly what he wanted: “rain of Your favor, blessing, and graciousness.” Honi drew a circle in the sand. Then he drew a circle within a circle within a circle.

  One of the reasons we get frustrated in prayer is our ASAP approach. When our prayers aren’t answered as quickly or easily as we would like, we get tired of circling. Maybe we need to change our prayer approach from as soon as possible to as long as it takes.

  Keep circling!

  Chapter 16

  Double Miracle

  When you live by faith, it often feels like you are risking your reputation. You’re not. You’re risking God’s reputation. It’s not your faith that is on the line. It’s His faithfulness. Why? Because God is the one who made the promise, and He is the only one who can keep it. The battle doesn’t belong to you; it belongs to God. And because the battle doesn’t belong to you, neither does the glory. God answers prayer to bring glory to His name, the name that is above all names.

  Drawing prayer circles isn’t about proving yourself to God; it’s about giving God an opportunity to prove Himself to you. Just in case you have forgotten — and to ensure that you always remember — God is for you. I can’t promise that God will always give you the answer you want. I can’t promise that He’ll answer on your timeline. But I can promise this: He answers every prayer, and He keeps every promise. That is who He is. That is what He does. And if you have the faith to dream big, pray hard, and think long, there is nothing God loves more than proving His faithfulness.

  The son of the daughter of Honi the circle maker, Hanan ha-Nehba, carried on his grandfather’s legacy in spirit and in deed. When Israel was in need of rain, the sages sent schoolchildren to take hold of the hem of his garment and ask for rain. Hanan ha-Nehba captured his grandfather’s heart and the heart of the heavenly Father with a simple prayer: “Master of the universe, do it for the sake of these little ones, who do not know the difference between the Father who can give rain and a papa who cannot.”

  Despite what skeptics may say, God is not offended by your big dreams or bold prayers. He’s a proud Papa. The religious establishment criticized Honi for drawing a circle and demanding rain, but it gave God an opportunity to prove His power and His love. That’s what God wants. And that’s what prayer does.

  Make No Small Plans

  “Make no little plans; they have no magic to stir men’s blood.” These words are attributed to architect and visionary Daniel Burnham. After serving as the principal architect of the Chicago World’s Fair in 1893, he set his sights on a grand vision — Washington’s Grand Terminal.

  It took an army of laborers an entire year and four million cubic yards of fill dirt just to fill in the swamp that would become the foundation of Union Station. That’s enough dirt to pack eighty thousand train hoppers stretching six hundred miles. Five years and $25 million dollars later, Burnham’s vision became a reality as the Baltimore and Ohio Pittsburgh Express whistled into Union Station at 6:50 a.m. on October 27, 1907.

  Over the next century, kings and queens would walk its corridors. During both World Wars, countless servicemen and servicewomen kissed their sweethearts good-bye as they went off to war. And after a $160 million restoration in the early 1980s, the modernized metro stop and mall would become the most visited destination in Washington, DC.

  It’s hard to walk through Union Station without hearing the echo of Daniel Burnham’s words: “Make no little plans.” It’s almost as though the grand ceilings lift the ceiling on your dreams. For thirteen amazing years, National Community Church met in the movie theaters at Union Station, and that is where we learned to dream big dreams for God. When those movie theaters closed in the fall of 2009, it felt like the train had left the station and we missed it. It was one of the greatest disappointments of my life, and we mourned that loss for months. I honestly didn’t believe we would find a replacement that could even begin to compare with the visibility and accessibility Union Station afforded us.

  I was wrong.

  Standing Room Only

  Sometimes we act as though God is surprised by the things that surprise us, but by definition, the Omniscient One cannot be surprised. God is always a step ahead, even when we feel like He’s a step behind. He’s always got a holy surprise up His sovereign sleeve.

  When the doors of the movie theaters closed at Union Station, it felt like
we were caught between the Red Sea and the Egyptian army. I didn’t understand why God let it happen, and I didn’t know where to go or what to do. I was full of questions. I was full of doubts. But I was also standing on the promise I had circled in Exodus 14: “Stand still, and see the salvation of the Lord.” I just didn’t know we would have to stand still for a year and a half.

  We were caught off guard by the theater closure, but God had already perfectly prepared us for what He knew would happen next. As a multisite church with five locations at the time, we had the flexibility to handle the redistribution of our congregation. Plus our coffeehouse, with performance space, was less than a block from the Station. The problem was that our coffeehouse couldn’t handle the capacity. We knew it was a temporary solution as we searched high and low for a year and a half, but we found nothing. It was discouraging because we were working like it depends on us and praying like it depends on God, but it was encouraging for the same reason. We had peace because we were praying through. We knew that our inability to find an alternate meeting space wasn’t for lack of trying or lack of praying.

  We continued to stand still until we had standing room only. At one point, we joked that we wanted to reach everyone on the Hill except the fire marshal, but it wasn’t really a joke. We were squeezing twice as many people into the performance space as it was designed for, and we were doing it four times a weekend. When we started turning people away, we got desperate.

  Then one day I was driving down Barracks Row, the main street of Capitol Hill, and I noticed The Peoples’ Church. It’s impossible to miss because of the movie theater marquee that has graced the facade for the last century.

  Location, Location, Location

  Barracks Row was the first commercial street in the nation’s capital because of its proximity to the Navy Yard, which was established in 1799. New arrivals to Washington arrived at those docks and ate their first meal or spent their first night on 8th Street. In 1801, Thomas Jefferson selected 8th Street as the location for barracks for the Marine Corps, giving the area its designation as Barracks Row. The Row flourished for a century and a half, but the 1968 riots in DC drove businesses out of the area and left Barracks Row languishing. It looked like a ghost town from the triple-feature Westerns that once played at the theater on the Row.

  In the late 1990s, a revitalization effort culminated with the 2005 Great American Main Street Award from the National Trust for Historic Preservation. Facades were restored to their original grandeur; mom-and-pop shops brought a unique feeling of community back to the area; and a wide variety of creative restaurant concepts reestablished the nightlife.

  When the Fourth of July parade route returned to 8th Street a few years ago, Barracks Row was once again the Main Street of Capitol Hill. That parade route begins at our property on 8th and Virginia, passes by The Peoples’ Church three blocks north, and ends at 8th and Pennsylvania Avenue.

  If God had said, “I’ll give you any place you want to relaunch your Union Station location,” I would have chosen The Peoples’ Church. It had location, location, location. But I felt bad thinking it and almost dismissed the thought for an obvious reason: The Peoples’ Church met there. At the same time, I felt prompted to call the pastor, and I learned a valuable lesson after the Holy Spirit prompted me to call Robert Thomas a decade earlier: You never know what answer you might receive if you make the call. That single phone call led to the purchase of 205 F Street, which led to the purchase of 201 F Street, which led to Ebenezer’s Coffeehouse. I had no idea that this phone call would lead to a double miracle, but I knew I needed to make the call.

  Double Time

  I Googled The Peoples’ Church and found a phone number for their pastor, Michael Hall. Before I could even introduce myself, he told me that he had heard about our predicament with the closing of Union Station. He was as cordial as cordial can be. In fact, he offered to let us use their church temporarily until we could find a permanent solution. I declined the gracious offer because it wasn’t during a time slot that would alleviate our space problems, but I was humbled by the offer.

  A few weeks later, we had lunch at Matchbox, one my favorite restaurants on Barracks Row located a few doors down from The Peoples’ Church. I immediately knew I had found a new friend. I was shocked to find out that he was seventy-one, because he doesn’t look a day over fifty-five. It must be in the genes. His ninety-one-year-old mother is still preaching.

  Michael told me that his parents, Fred and Charlotte Hall, had purchased the old Academy Theatre in 1962 and started The Peoples’ Church. He told me that the demographics of the church had changed in the past decade, and most members now commuted in from Maryland. And he told me they almost sold the church a few years before for financial reasons, but the deal fell through because the Capitol Hill community didn’t want a nightclub going in, plus the church itself voted unanimously against selling.

  A month later, we had lunch again. I felt like God was prompting me to ask him if they would consider selling the church. I honestly didn’t care whether the answer was yes or no; I just hoped he wouldn’t be offended by the question. He wasn’t offended at all, but the answer was no.

  The more I got to know Pastor Michael Hall and his wife, Terry, the more I liked them and respected them. They told me about the wonderful history of the church. They told me about the unique joys of being white pastors of a primarily African-American congregation. And they told me about their vision for the future. At age seventy-one, most people are slowing down. Not Michael Hall. He has the spirit of Caleb, who was as strong at eight-five as he was at forty.

  Six months later, I felt prompted to ask Michael again if they would consider selling the church. Once again, he said no, but he also said, “Mark, if we ever sell the church, we want you to have it.” Then in February 2011, I felt prompted to ask one more time. I honestly didn’t want to do it. The pressure for space at our church continued to increase as each month went by, but at that point, I valued my relationship with Michael and Terry far more than the real estate. If it wasn’t what was best for The Peoples’ Church, then it wasn’t what was best for National Community Church. If it wasn’t a win for them, it wasn’t a win for us. It had to be a win-win, and I told them that. For a third time, the answer was no, but Michael also said he would pray about it, and I knew he meant it.

  Two days later, on my way to Super Bowl XLV, I got a text from Michael telling me that God changed his heart. He felt it wasn’t just the miracle we had been praying for; he felt it was the miracle they had been praying for too. I was shocked, not just by the text, but by the fact that a seventy-one-year-old pastor texts! That was the first miracle. The second miracle would be convincing a congregation that a few years before had voted unanimously not to sell. The third miracle would be finding property in Maryland where most of their members live. I thought those miracles could take years, if they happened at all, but when God moves, God moves. After a year and a half of standing still, the second and third miracles happened in less than one week. God did a double miracle in double time.

  Double Miracle

  On March 23, 2011, I met with Michael to sign the contract to purchase The Peoples’ Church. It had only taken them a couple days to find their piece of Promised Land on Branch Avenue, the main artery that runs through the heart of Prince George’s County in Maryland. Right as we were getting ready to sign the contract, their realtor called and told them that the owner had knocked $375,000 off the sale price of $795,000. Only God.

  Michael could have gotten that phone call right before or right after our meeting, but God’s timing is impeccable. It felt like 375,000 confirmations. And that’s not the only miracle. Within twenty-four hours of signing the contract, we received a $1.5 million matching gift that got us halfway toward our purchase price of $3 million. It was like God parted the Red Sea, and both churches walked through on dry ground. We were headed to Barracks Row; they were headed to Maryland. And we passed each other in the middle of the Red S
ea, praising God for our double miracle.

  We thought it would take at least three years to construct our new campus on the property we had miraculously purchased at 8th and Virginia Avenue. Then God gave us a stepping-stone three blocks away: The Peoples’ Church. Here’s the great irony. Our phase-one auditorium was going to be an art deco theater. It’s almost like God said, “I’ve already built what you’ve dreamed of.” So God did in three weeks what we thought would take three years. In His providence, God gave a church with a vision to meet in movie theaters at metro stops an old movie theater two blocks from the Eastern Market metro stop.

  I pray that I have half the courage of Michael Hall when I’m seventy-one. It took courage to leave the comfort of a place where they had met as a church for forty-nine years. It took courage to start all over again and replant The Peoples’ Church in Maryland. But it’s as much a miracle for them as it is for us. Not only does the sale cancel all of their existing debt; they can also purchase their property and build their building debt free. But the thing that most excites them is that they’ll have enough cash left over to begin giving to missions again, which has been their heartbeat from the very beginning.

  Long story short, a miracle for them + a miracle for us = a double miracle.

  One footnote.

  I wasn’t the only one doing a Daniel fast at the beginning of 2011. Michael Hall was doing one too! Coincidence? I think not. As I look back on it, the only way this double miracle goes down is if both of us had been fasting and praying. It was prayer and fasting that gave me the courage to ask him a third time if they would sell, and prayer and fasting gave him the courage to say yes. When Michael told me he would pray, he was in a season of fasting. I believe that his open mind was the result of an empty stomach. And when two people fast and pray like Daniel, it makes double miracles possible.