I have a basket near my bed with the collection of things I most treasure. My little treasure and trinket basket holds negligible monetary value, yet it represents all the things that I hold nearest to my heart: illegible letters from my husband over the years, little pictures or poems from my boys in each stage of their development, and notes from disciples and colleagues in the trenches of ministry.

A short, seemingly insignificant verse in Revelation gives us a hint at what God gladly gathers and stores close to his throne: our prayers:

“And between the throne and the living creatures and among the elders I saw a Lamb standing, as though it had been slain, with seven horns and seven eyes, which are the seven spirits of God sent out into all the earth. And he went and took the scroll from the right hand of him who was seated on the throne. And when he had taken the scroll, the four living creatures and the twenty-four elders fell down before the Lamb, each holding a harp, and golden bowls of incense, where are the prayers of the saints” (Revelation 5: 6–8).

It’s easy to get lost in the intense imagery, but did you catch that last bit? The golden bowls of incense being carried by the elders contain a collection of the prayers of the saints from the beginning of time right up to us. Wafting through all the regalia in the throne room of God are our paltry prayers.

The Potpourri of our Prayers

The God who made every wonderful scent on the earth, who created the mechanisms that make the ambergris over which perfumers still fight, who spoke the distinct scents of roses and rhododendrons into existence– his favorite smell is the scent of our intimate prayers towards him.

The same God who bottles up our tears also gathers up our prayers as his great treasure (Psalm 56: 8). I don’t think he only collects the neat, ordered, poetic sounding prayers of praise of which we might be the most proud.

The ancient Israelites had the right words in their prayers, but the intimacy and obedience that did NOT accompany them smelled like stench to God. Through the prophet Isaiah, God expresses a distaste for rote words coming from cold, self-reliant hearts: “This people draw near with their mouth and honor me with their lips, while there hearts are far from me, and their fear of me is a commandment taught by men (Isaiah 29: 13).

I imagine that he most delights in the prayers in which bring all of who we are and where we are into his presence (Psalm 62: 8). In addition to our prayers of spontaneous, heartfelt thanksgiving, God also gathers a whole crowd of prayers that we wouldn’t think likely to be invited into the throne room:

• The desperate prayers that sound like King Jehoshaphat’s plea: “We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you” (2 Chronicles 20: 12).
• The doubting prayers that we offer with half-hearted faith, as we drag our lack of faith into his presence and pray with the father of a demon-possessed son, “I believe; help my unbelief!” (Mark 9: 24).
• The wordless, sighing prayers that the Holy Spirit translates into cohesive, God-honoring prayers on our behalf when suffering has literally left us speechless (Romans 8: 26).
• The hungry, longing prayers that pant with the persecuted church in Revelation: “Come!” (Revelation 22: 17).
• The angry, exhausted, raw prayers of those who hunger for the justice that only Christ can offer: “How long, O Lord?” (Psalm 13: 1).

As we head into the holiday season, we fill our homes with the scents of nostalgia. The smells of sugar cookies, Christmas trees, and mulling spices bring great delight to our hearts. Perhaps, this Advent season, it might also help to remember that the scents that delight the heart of God and show off his worthiness are our earnest, honest, intimate prayers.