Before speed dialing and instant messaging, there was whirlwind prayer.
Let me explain.
An important part of the curriculum at St. Mary's Elementary School where I attended the first grade was Friday afternoon mandatory confessional time, right after a meatless lunch (who knew?) and preceding recess (my best subject).  In hindsight, I think confession would have proven more beneficial had it followed recess.
I had one clear objective in satisfying the spiritual requirements of the institution, and that was to get my sins and accompanying penitence dealt with as quickly as possible so I could maximize my time on the playground.
I've always believed in the separation of church and recess.
Even back then, I was an above average sinner, and Father Schumaker knew it (the nuns ratted on me daily).  In a sincere but flawed effort to slow my inevitable slide into apostasy, he loaded down my sin-sick soul with a ton of "Hail Mary's" and "Our Father's," hoping contrition and compunction regarding a seared conscience might keep me on the straight and narrow.
It didn't work.  I learned how to beat the system.  He overestimated my resolve in the battle with sin.  He assumed I would pray thoughtfully, with genuine remorse and regret, but instead, I speed dialed my instant message to the Virgin Mother.
I'm not bragging, but at seven years old and with First Communion in the rearview mirror, I could rattle off a dozen "Hail Mary's" without breathing or punctuation.  I prayed at 78 RPM – a little slurred and blurred, but it did the trick.
We fast talking kids from up North prayed at twice the speed of Southern sinners burdened with drawls and two-syllable one syllable words (no-oo, ye-es, si-ir, Lo-ord, si-in).   Thus, we got more recess time and grew up better conditioned physically than those stationed closer to the sun.  I don't think, however, we faired as well spiritually (I'm hoping someday to score a Federal Grant to prove this hypothesis – and why not, they fund every other bizarre notion). 
Anyway, my point is that despite the best intentions (I hope) of the Church, I stumbled into adulthood unrepentant and clueless as to the dynamics of authentic confession.  I had real poor sin management tools.  I was better suited for a career in manufacturing.
Complicating the problem, I had no real idea I had a problem, and if and when I did, I fixed it quickly with sixty seconds of speed prayer.  I trusted the Blessed Mother could convince The Son I was a good boy at heart, if not in the field. 
Prayer was a procedure, I figured, administered under duress until a better option, like Happy Hour, became available.  I treated prayer with mathematical rations.  If I figured there might be favorable odds in making divine contact, I phoned home – three minutes for a dime.
For years I prayed in response to perceived needs, treating God like a cosmic facilitator at my beck and call.  I preferred doing things on my own, but sometimes I needed the strong arm of The Lord to clear my path on The Road to the Good Life.
Like you, I spent many years keeping God at a safe distance.   If you allow Him to get too close, I figured, He can really make a mess of your dreams and plans.
Mostly, I prayed for stuff, for me, for fun and pleasure, for periodic relief, and for fortuitous conclusions to worldly matters.  The "vain repetitions" of the Pharisees would have been an improvement to my narcissistic ranting.
I had a superficial relationship with God, at best, because I foolishly tried to do God on my terms (note James 4:1-10).
He doesn't work that way.
As an adult, I had to relearn my faith, and the journey began with a return to the "Lord's Prayer" of Matthew chapter 6, where God graciously invited me into the inner chambers.
Back in the first grade, I had managed to memorize and speed dial the prayer without hearing or understanding it, a monument to the power of paganism: that we can live in God's world and read His Book but never meet or know The Author.
My spiritual rebirth was hallmarked by long, intense, genuine, heartfelt prayer – prayers of confession, repentance, forgiveness, praise, humility, reverence, gratitude, acceptance, dependence, submission, and a commitment to "Thy will be done, not mine."
I prayed for His Kingdom to come to me and for me, and He delivered.
"Ask and it shall be given to you; seek, and you shall find, knock, and it shall be opened to you.  For everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it shall be opened" (Matthew 7: 7,8).
Note the emphasis on "Everyone."  This is no idle promise.  God means what He says.  Jesus isn't blowing smoke.  "Everyone" includes you and me.
Prayer works.  God delivers.  "The fervent prayer of a righteous person can accomplish much" (James 5:16).  Note the emphasis on a "righteous person."  We can't dance with the devil all night and expect God to honor our morning prayers.  I think this is what the Psalmist had in mind when he said: "If I regard wickedness in my heart, the Lord will not hear" (Psalm 66:18).  I must add, however, for our encouragement, the final words of the Psalm: "But certainly God has heard; He has given heed to the voice of my prayer" (66:19).
Prayer changes everything – starting with me.  Prayer is the foundation for a relationship with God, not an on-again-off-again relationship, but one that endures and prevails, one that brings meaning and purpose to life, and one that provides constant support and healing.
When the apostle says, "Pray without ceasing" (I Thes 5:17), I believe his exhortation is grounded in relationship with God.  Prayer evolves into a natural conversation for those practicing discipleship.  We talk with God all along the way.
We pray for deliverance, protection from temptation and the schemes of the evil one (I Cor 10:13; 2 Cor 2:11), and the power and strength for very real everyday spiritual warfare (Eph 6: 10 –20).
Gonna' pray me a river!
Though prayer is very much an individual enterprise – you and God – it is also a corporate activity.  We are to pray for one another with the same intensity and passion with which we pray for ourselves (James 5: 16).  We support and embolden one another by praying for our Brother's and Sister's best interests.
This attitude of concern for others (and the wisdom and strength to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comforted – and, yes, you may pray for crisis and trials in the life of one you love!) is modeled by the Apostle Paul throughout his Prison Epistles.  Listen carefully to this short snippet from Ephesians:
For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth derives its name that He would grant you, according to the riches of His glory, to be strengthened with power through His Spirit in the inner man, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; and that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled up to all the fullness of God ( Eph. 3: 14-19).
       Now, wouldn't you like others to pray like that for you!  And as you pray for others in Jesus name, do so slowly, passionately, caringly, and meaningfully.  No reason to rush something this good.  Recess will wait! 
        If you want or need prayer, please come by the Fellowship Hall this week as we're praying 24 hours a day.