The God Who Ran: A story from Central Vineyard’s first Prayer Week
In 2018, Central Vineyard hosted its first-ever prayer week. For seven days, Community Hall was open 24/7 for prayer. We were invited to "book a slot." The hall would be ours for that time—set aside for us to pause from life and commune with God.
I first heard this invitation from those back-shaded seats of EGGS, years before I had babies to feed there. Back then, I was an irregular attender, an intentional back-seater. I stayed away from the openness, minimising the chance that someone might see me and uncover my unorthodox living. If these people were anything like the God I knew, being known was risky.
Sundays were my primary touchpoint with this church. I attended for the emotional stirring in worship and the self-improvement I could glean from the message—my spiritual TED Talk. I consumed it all from that shaded spot.
All this to say, I wasn’t the usual suspect to sign up for a prayer slot—a space with no worship team, no inspirational talk to feed me, just an empty hall where the sole purpose was to meet God.
And yet, somehow, I found myself standing at the front of the gathering, Sharpie in hand, writing my name—Ella—on the sign-up sheet. A one-hour solo slot. Tuesday, 1 p.m.
Bracing for judgement
Tuesday came. I remember the anticipation, but mostly the anxiety. I was bracing myself to meet God—the one who, I was certain, had been waiting for this moment to finally give me the telling-off I deserved. I knew my list of failures well. I had been living opposite to His way.
I fully expected a divine ass-whooping.
A surprise
Moments of communion with God are always hard to articulate. What happens in our Holy of Holies is most often for us and God alone, so I can’t describe to you what happened at Community Hall that day.
And recalling what I did in there—flicking the Bible open to a random page, for example—I can assure you my efforts were nothing to replicate or advocate for.
Yet somehow, I met God. And who He was surprised me.
The God Who Ran
I entered Community Hall with a theology of a God who was ready to scold me. Instead, I met the Father who (metaphorically) ran—cloak flapping in the wind—to embrace His prodigal daughter as I took the one step I could toward Him. He quickly put a ring on my finger and called me His. He told me He knew everything—including my sinful ways—and that He loved me through, and through, and through.
Instead of punishment to get me back in line, He loved me back into His way.
Beginning to trust
Pete Greig says that following Jesus is a threefold invitation:
To trust Him as Saviour
To know Him as Friend
To obey Him as Lord
Back in 2009, in a story for another day, Jesus became my Saviour. But it was in that prayer slot, in 2018, that I finally met the God I could trust enough to become my Friend and Lord.
After that day, my life changed.
Not in some dramatic, "now I have everything together" way. I didn’t become an instant saint. I’m still full of flaws.
Eugene Peterson is right—faith is a long obedience in the same direction.
But my life did change. In area after area, I learned I could trust God’s invitations and trust what He was asking of me—because of who He is. The loving Father.
As we approach prayer week 2025, I wonder: Who is God currently whispering to, inviting to come? Would you let yourself listen for the invitations of the Spirit?
He knows how far you can come. He will run the rest of the way to you.