What Prioritising the Prayer Meeting Has Taught Me

By a pastor learning (still) to choose presence over pressure

I’ll be honest: I don’t always feel like going to the prayer meeting.

There’s a whisper that often starts up in my mind as the day rolls on. It says, “You’ve got too much to do. You can’t afford to give up an evening. There are emails waiting, people to see, sermons to prepare, future plans to make. ” It’s that constant background pressure of the to-do list—a list that never actually gets finished.

But over time, I’ve come to recognise that whisper for what it is: the subtle lie that I am the answer to everything, and that prayer is a luxury I can't afford.

The truth is, prayer is never a waste of time. In fact, I’ve found it’s the most important investment I can make—not just for ministry, but for my soul.

It’s not just the pressure of time that makes prayer feel costly. Sometimes, it’s the pressure of money too. When finances are tight, you can feel the quiet temptation to hold back on giving. The thought can creep “Maybe just for now. Things are a bit stretched. God will understand.” And of course He does understand—but what I’ve learned through the years is that these moments reveal where my trust really lies.

Just like with prayer, giving is a way of saying, “I’m not the source. God is.”  When I keep giving—even when it’s tight—I’m not buying God's favour; I’m exercising trust. I'm choosing faith over fear.

And the same is true when I show up to pray. My schedule may be packed. My energy may be low. But every time I step into that space—especially with others—I encounter something far more valuable than crossed-off tasks or increased control. I encounter God’s presence.

Here are a few things prioritising the prayer meeting has taught me:

1. Prayer realigns my perspective

There’s something powerful about lifting our eyes together. As we pray—sometimes with bold faith, sometimes just with groans—we remember who is really in charge. It doesn’t magically remove all the problems, but it shrinks them back to size. My burdens feel lighter, not because they’ve gone, but because I remember I don’t carry them alone.

2. Trust grows in the tension

Whether it’s finances, time, energy, or even emotional bandwidth, I’ve learned that spiritual growth often happens in the tension. It’s when it feels costly to give, costly to pray, costly to serve—that’s where trust is forged. That’s where roots go deeper. That’s where I discover that God really is enough.

3. God is more interested in forming me than fixing my life

I often come to the prayer meeting hoping for answers or breakthroughs. And sometimes, we see that. But more often, I come away with something quieter and deeper: a sense of peace, a fresh reminder of God’s faithfulness, a softening of my heart. I’m not just looking for Him to change the situation—I find that He’s changing me.

4. Rest isn’t passive—it’s active trust

I can feel guilty resting. It can feel self indulgent. And sometimes it is. But resting in Jesus isn't that way. Biblical rest isn’t laziness—it’s faith. It’s saying, “God, I trust You to sustain what I can’t.” When I sleep while there is still stuff to do I'm preaching a sermon. A sermon that says "I'm trusting you God with my limitations."

5. There’s joy in shared seeking

Some of the most meaningful moments in my walk with God have come through praying with others. As voices speak out their orayers—sometimes boldly, sometimes routinely —there’s a sacred unity in the room. We carry one another’s burdens. We remind each other of God’s promises. And in that shared seeking, something shifts—not just around us, but within us.

So, if you’re feeling stretched thin—financially, emotionally, or just plain tired—know this: God doesn’t call you to prayer, or to generosity, or to presence at a meeting because He needs something from you. He calls you because He has something for you.

I’ve never once left a prayer meeting thinking, “That was a waste.” My list might still be long but my heart is steadier, my trust deeper, and my eyes lifted.

Prayer may not shorten the to-do list. Giving may not solve the budget. But both remind me that I’m not the source of life—He is. And I’ve learned that’s more than enough.