Have you ever pled fervently for something? A particular project at work, an idea for your church or other civic organization? A vacation proposal for your family or a romantic getaway for just you and your spouse? Spending the night with a friend when you were in third grade?

Everything about us goes into a fervent plea, doesn’t it? Our emotions, our thoughts, our energy, our deepest feelings, our intensity… all are brought to bear. Hopefully, not because of our desire to control or manipulate but because of sincere, deep longing, and genuine belief.

Now, focus that same notion on prayer.

Casual prayer is just mentioning something in passing. “Oh, yeah, God, if you could…” Concerned prayer is when someone we care about is facing some trial or challenge. It’s sincere and compassionate and, well, concerned. We spend several minutes asking God to intervene.

Fervent prayer is what we do when someone we love deeply is in dire circumstance. Maybe ourself. It comes from the deepest, most twisted parts of our being and continues in our thoughts even when we are not actually down on our knees. It is the kind of prayer that James describes (James 5:16-17) as being genuinely powerful and effective: fervent prayer.

The Amplified Version translates it as “heartfelt and persistent.” I love that! It’s not prayer arising only from habit or sense of duty; it’s the real deal, baby!

I confess that too much of my prayer is not fervent. It’s too often casual, even though the concern might be genuine. Pretty easy to confirm that “you’re in our thoughts and prayers” but a whole ‘nother matter to elevate it to fervent prayer.

I remember years ago visiting a congregation that kept a box in the foyer with a slot on top. Members and visitors were invited to write prayer requests on a slip of paper and slip that paper in through the slot. At a designated point in each service, one of the deacons would bring the box to the altar and lift it up as the pastor and congregation prayed for the “needs listed in this box.” I loved the symbolism of it and the visual element.

But it also seemed a bit too easy. Thirty seconds of nebulous concern and expression. “Hey, God, you know what’s in here, take care of it.” There’s a comfortable anonymity and not much of a burden on anyone, not even on the deacon holding up the box. It reminded me of a phrase my Dad often used in his prayers at our family table: “Be with those throughout the world for whom it is our duty to pray.”

That takes in a whole lot of territory!

But I suspect that thirty seconds of sincere intervention for just a few of those individuals would be better. And I’m quite confident that thirty minutes of fervent prayer for one or two would be much more powerful. I think that’s probably the kind of prayer that Paul attributes to Epaphras who was “always laboring fervently for you in prayers.” (Col 4:12)

Laboring in prayer. Not sedentary activity (admittedly, that’s an oxymoron), not easy exercise, not almost breaking a sweat. Laboring. Like actual work, you know.

That’s the kind of prayer that touches the heart of God and gets results. It ain’t easy, my friend, but it works.