Have you ever read The Circle Maker? It’s a Bible study book by Mark Batterson, dark red in color with haphazardly drawn circles adorning the front cover. If you haven’t read it, don’t feel bad.
I haven’t either.
I have, however, read the very first chapter. This chapter details the legend of the Circle Maker, a Jewish sage—Honi— whose generation was in danger of extinction at the hands of a year-long drought. To put it simply (which, if you want the full effect, read the book. It’s truly amazing.), Honi draws a circle in the sand and refuses to move from it until the Lord blesses his community with rain. As he prays, a few sprinkles fall and the people rejoice, but Honi isn’t satisfied. So he says:
“Not for such rain have I prayed, but for rain that will fill cisterns, pits, and caverns.”
Honi was obviously ignorant of the phrase “Be careful what you wish for,” because with his request comes a downpour, rain so heavy the people stop rejoicing and begin to flee for cover. Still, Honi is not satisfied. He does not move from his circle, even as he is pelted with rainwater. Instead, he says:
“Not for such rain have I prayed, but for rain of Your favor, blessing, and graciousness.”
And with his words, the rain calms to a steady rhythm. God had seen Honi’s faithfulness and, in turn, answered his request. The story remains true as one of Israel’s greatest testaments of unrelenting, faithful prayer; a perfect act of trust in the Lord.
I had always thought of Honi’s circle-drawing to be fantastic, something that only happens in stories or movies or in the Bible. It was like there were two boxes—one in which God performed great, on-the-spot miracles and people dared to ask Him to display His power, and the other in which God moved more subtly and no one seemed sure of His willingness to answer their prayers right when they asked Him—and I had found myself living in the box of uncertainty and what I thought was a slow-moving God.
Oh, how wrong I was.
When I first received my acceptance into The Race, on January 15th, I was still unsure of the route I was going to choose. If you don’t know, there are six different routes I could have chosen from, consisting of eleven different countries and four regions of the world. I found myself becoming so anxious about the decision, checking blogs every hour and googling each country to try and weigh the pros and cons of each route. It was spiritually exhausting. So, on January 18th, I began an internet fast. I turned my phone off and said I wasn’t going to pick it up again until the Lord gave me my answer. I didn’t realize it, but it was then that I drew my first circle.
The problem was, though, I was still living in a box. I still partly believed that God was not quick to answer prayer, that He might not answer me at all, and I would be left to make one of the most important decisions of my life on my own. But how wonderful it is that our God does not live inside a box.
It was the fourth night of my fast, and I had been diving into God’s word and journaling (halfheartedly and discouraged, if we’re being honest), and the Spirit prompted me to stop reading, to close my eyes and pray. So I stopped. I closed my eyes, folded my hands. And I prayed. I prayed to get out of the box.
I believe that you will tell me where to go. I prayed.
I believe that you will. I believe that you will. I believe that you will.
And then I drew a circle.
I will not move from this spot, I will not open my eyes, until you reveal to me where to go. I believe that you will.
Now, this is the part of the story where I have to continuously remind people that I’m not making it up. It sounds so fantastic, so wonderfully insane that it’s almost unbelievable. Almost.
I had my hands folded in my lap, the pen I’d been using to journal sitting on top of them, and I was drawing metaphorical circles and whispering and, from an outsider’s point of view, looking pretty insane. For almost thirty minutes I prayed and prayed and prayed.
Then my arms went numb.
From the tips of my fingers to the tops of my shoulders, I couldn’t feel my arms. It wasn’t like that fuzzy feeling you get in your feet when they fall asleep or like I could feel my arms but couldn’t move them. It was complete paralysis. Then… my hands started to move.
God moved my hands agonizingly slow, pulling them apart at a rate that would be considered quick only to a snail. I thought to myself, Holy crap, how is this happening. And then, This is it. He’s going to tell me. He’s going to tell me where to go.
Until my hands began to close back together. At this point, I believe that God was testing me, He was placing this question in my mind of whether I was going to stay in my circle or if I was going to go back to my quiet, doubting box. So, even as my hands clasped each other again, I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed, I believe that you will. Even if it’s not right now, I believe that you will.
And, like when Honi prayed for softer rain after a torrential downpour, God answered me quickly. He began to pull my hands apart again, faster this time but still painfully slow, and I refused to move from my circle. My hands came apart, and my left stayed in place while my right reached for the pen that had fallen from its previous resting place. And then, with God as its guide, my right hand wrote:
4
I could only imagine this meant I was to pick Route 4, so I asked again (totally natural, right? God literally gives you a sign and you ask for clarification?), and sure enough, my right hand traced the shape of the number 4 again. I waited for the Lord to move my hands back together before opening my eyes again, and found that, during my prayer, my sister had come into our room.
“What?” She asked.
All I could say was, “Woah.”
I realized then that I want to live my life inside a circle. I want to ask of the Lord BIG things because He is a BIG God. He is mighty and He is powerful and He is true and faithful and never changing and worthy of all of my circles. He is not to be put inside of any box, especially the ones we so often confine ourselves in.
I desire to be a circle maker. Do you?
