EVERYONE WHO KNOWS our stretch of Florida’s Emerald Coast will recognize the line of pine trees along Western Lake. For visitors, they may be the memory of an enjoyable vacation. But for some local families, they are a call to prayer.

A friend of mine drove past them every day while taking his kids to school in Seaside and began to use the landmark as a reminder to pray for them. It became such a regular thing that whenever he’d forget, one of the kids would pipe up from the back seat, “Hey, there are The Prayer Pines.”

This friend would carpool other kids with his, and some of them began to share the practice with their families. Many years after those school runs concluded, people still talk about the practice. I have a set of coasters with those prayers pines on them, a gift from my friend and a reminder of the impact making prayer a routine part of our lives can make.

Tying times of prayer to a particular place or situation can help us be more diligent about praying “on all occasions” (Ephesians 6:18), especially in a day and age when it is so easy to be constantly distracted.

I’ve had different routines at different times, depending on the season of life. For many years, tea (and prayer) with God has been how I start my day. For a long time, I always made a point of praying for those who were sick when I was out running, for a couple of reasons.

First, I was reminded that being healthy enough to run was a blessing not to take for granted. And, as I pushed myself and the exercise became uncomfortable, I felt I had at least a smidgen of a sense of the physical distress some of those I knew might be facing. Sometimes, as I puffed and panted, all I could manage was to gasp their name, but I believe God received those short prayers as sincere.

Since the beginning of the year, I have been taking a walk every day with God, in much the same way I suspect Adam did back in the beginning. I can’t say that it’s been hugely rewarding to date; I find many times I spend most of the 20 minutes or so trying to corral my wandering thoughts. But I believe that, just like you don’t always feel you’ve gotten much out of going to the gym on a particular day, over time there must be some incremental improvement. By developing even small habits of prayer, we create space to speak with and hear from God on often all-too-busy days.

Maybe it’s using the time when we have to stop at a red light to pray for someone, rather than reaching for our phone. Maybe it’s an Examen-type time of reflection before we go to sleep. Maybe it’s like Susanna Wesley, the mother of 10 (including Methodism’s founders John and Charles) who would sit and pull her apron up over her head to signal to the household she was taking time out to be with God.

What are your “prayer pines” like?