What's up, Bridgetown? This is Tyler Staten from Trinity Grace Church in Brooklyn, New

York. John Mark is such a close friend and really more like a brother to me. And so whether

you know of us or not, you are family to us from across the country and we are praying

for you and standing with you in the midst of such a strange season. So much love to you

from Brooklyn. There's an image that hangs above the little temporary desk that I've

put in my bedroom, the space that serves as an at-home office for me temporarily during

this time of isolation. And I asked a friend of mine to sketch it for me, who's an illustrator.

And it is the Apostle Paul on his knees with his hands clashed in prayer as his elbows

rest on a prison cot behind locked bars. Here's the line that inspired that for this reason

I kneel before the Father. That's Ephesians chapter 3 verse 14. I know it doesn't seem

like much, but this prayer he prays goes on to flow like poetry. I mean, it culminates

in those famous words. Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask

or imagine, it's got that wide-eyed kind of hope and floor rattling faith all over it.

But here's the thing. The place Paul's praying those words from is inside a prison cell.

The place he was kneeling before the Father is alone in prison. So when you read this

prayer, don't picture him at a mahogany desk with a feather-tip pen in his hand. Picture

him kneeling on a cold stone floor with chains around his ankles and his elbows resting

on a cot in his tiny cell. And what I notice about Paul's prayers, at least compared

to my own, is that my prayers are often based on human needs and Paul's prayers are always

based on heavenly resources. There will always be human needs. Those will never stop.

Prayer request time will never, ever run out of material. But Paul's prayers aren't

based on the needs around him. They're based on the God he's praying to. That's why his

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