Transformative Prayer

This cute meme has been making the rounds on Facebook and Pinterest a couple of years ago.  It suggests that prayer turns meek kittens into mighty lions.  And it can.  Most times it should.  But how often do we experience this level of transformation when we pray?

I write this blog, partly in response to comments I’ve heard or read that belittle the effectiveness and the power of prayer.  I talk a good game when it comes to prayer–I pray daily, I keep a prayer journal, I consider myself a prayer veteran, even a prayer warrior.  I believe in the transformative power of prayer.  So why do I often feel like a kitten both before and after prayer?

I’m afraid that, too often, I really don’t want to be transformed when I pray.  I want to be heard; I want to be comforted; I want to be refreshed.  But I don’t really want transformation.  Transformation is not cute or comfortable–it hurts, it stretches.  Transformation requires risk and commitment in the face of uncertainty.  I want to be a kitten who thinks of herself as a lioness, but I want a cozy lap to rest on, and a bowl of gourmet cat food laid out for me.  Kittens may wrestle with yarn or mice; lionesses wrestle with crocodiles and wildebeests.  I want to lift up those in pain, those who struggle, those in need– but I want to do it from the comfort of my own quiet corner.

If my prayer life isn’t causing changes in every other aspect of my life, I need to be concerned.  Prayer that never calls me into battle; prayer that leaves me feeling comfortable while others suffer..that isn’t really prayer.  That is giving lip service without heart-service.

But I also need to be careful to be transformed by the renewing of my mind (See Romans 12: 1-3).  Prayer should be transforming my heart and mind, but in Christ’s likeness.  Christ, who is not only the Lion of Judah, but the Lamb of God.  There are times when I should charge out of the prayer room, energized and ready for battle.  But it must come from God’s spirit, and not my own pride or in conformity to the world’s pattern of fighting.  Transformation doesn’t come about just because I say any prayer– it comes about as I walk and talk with the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  I don’t have the power to transform myself, nor do I have the power to decide the nature and speed of my journey.

I think sometimes, I see it as all or nothing– either I am running full speed ahead and making great conquests (Lioness), or I am mewling  and helpless (Kitten).  But God sees the bigger picture.  Sometimes,  we should enter the prayer room as kittens and leave like lions; other times we should enter as lions and leave as lambs– recognizing that our own roaring will never win the battle, and also recognizing that sometimes, in quiet obedience and sacrifice, we are doing what is necessary in the larger plan.  What should never happen is that we go running into the prayer room eager and ready to serve, and come sauntering or swaggering out, puffed up with our own importance, but unmoved toward others.

So the challenge is to go into the prayer room, expecting to be transformed– by God, for God’s glory, into the people God wants us to be– expecting to be changed, stretched and challenged.

pexels-photo-415380.jpeg

Sacrificial Prayer

I call this blog “Pursuing Prayer.” I believe prayer is a pursuit; a discipline that one can learn from, grow into, and practice faithfully in life. But prayer is also a sacrifice. It involves giving of time, space, and honest reflection.

Sometimes, prayer is a willing and joyful sacrifice. I want to come and spend time with My Father in praise and worship, adoration, and even asking for His guidance and wisdom. But sometimes, the sacrifice is hard. I may dread coming to God when I know I have been dishonest or unfaithful. Like any relationship, I cherish the easy times, the relaxing times, and the expectations of challenges met and conquered. I don’t look forward to the hard work, the waiting, or the corrections that God may have for me.

One type of sacrifice that doesn’t belong in the prayer of a believer is the Sin sacrifice. As described in the Old Testament books, the sin sacrifice had to be given to cover over the sins of individuals, priests and even the entire nation. The Israelites even had to give a sin offering for unintentional or accidental sins!

Unfortunately, I sometimes make the mistake of thinking that I must make a similar “sin sacrifice” in my prayer life– that I have to rehearse and recount all my past sins before God will hear me or act on my behalf. And that is NOT Biblical. If we are truly trusting in Jesus’ finished work on the cross, we are not obligated to offer token sacrifices as a means of covering over our past. Christ’s blood IS sufficient! (See 1 John 2:2, 2 Corinthians 5:21,1 Peter 2:24, and Romans 5:9 among others)

So when I talk about prayer of confession, I’m not talking about pouring out long laundry lists of sins I committed last week or thirty years ago. God already knows– in fact He knew about them before they happened!–and He has already forgiven me. That doesn’t mean that He wants me to pretend they never happened or that He doesn’t want me to feel the regret or understand the consequences of what I have done. Instead, He wants me to understand and rejoice in His overwhelming Mercy and Grace! My sacrifice, when I confess my sins, is a sacrifice of praise for God’s willingness to offer what I can never earn or deserve or atone for– complete forgiveness and restoration! I am agreeing with God about who I am and what I’ve done, AND about what He has done for me!

There are other times when prayer can be a difficult sacrifice. Sometimes, I am compelled to pray for those who have hurt me, or those whose actions have hurt others. I am commanded to pray for leaders– that may include church leaders who have sinned, or national leaders who have broken their promises or caused great damage. I am commanded to love my enemies, even if they never repent for things they have done.

Once again, I should be reminded of the sufficiency of Christ’s sacrifice for our sins. He didn’t just die for my Sin; He died for the sins that were committed against me. I may still feel the pain and consequences of that Sin for as long as I live on this earth. But I can trust and be confident that God has dealt with it. And that causes me to rejoice, because I can’t turn back time; I can’t undo the bad things that have happened; I can’t create perfect justice to punish my enemy. But I can let go of the burden of trying to make things “as they should be.” God will do it; He has promised! I can stop wallowing in the “what ifs” or the “what-could-have-beens;” the endless “whys” and “why me’s” that take up so much of my time and focus. Instead, I can leave them as a sacrifice on the altar of prayer, pledging my trust in the Almighty to heal and help me forgive as I have been forgiven.

We don’t practice the old animal sacrifices of the Old Testament. And we don’t have to! But sacrifice is more than just bleeding sheep and burning incense. Sacrifice is offering all of who we are to the One who created us, sustains us, forgives us, and gives us abundant life!

Prayer Bullies

When I first felt the urge to blog about prayer and prayer life, I held off a bit.  I think prayer is many things– important, impactful, practical, personal, holy, and humbling.  I finally decided to start writing, not because I am an expert on prayer, or that I have mastered the practice, but because I feel passionate about growing in my prayer and praying with more knowledge, focus, and impact. Seven years and over 900 posts later, I still feel the same. I’m sharing in the hope that you will be encouraged, challenged, and equipped to do the same.  I want to explore the many aspects of prayer and learn all that it can be. But one thing prayer should never be is a bludgeon.

I find it embarrassing to be in the company of certain fellow Christians when I hear them try to stop a discussion or argument with the phrase, “I’ll pray for you.”  There are many times and ways one can say this phrase in love and mean it as a sincere gesture, but sometimes it is as condescending and insincere as a Southern, “well, bless your little pea-pickin’ heart.” They want a type of “mic-drop” moment; an argument-ending, argument-winning phrase, and this is what comes out.

“I’ll pray for you”, in this context, suggests that you (and only you) have a problem.  I don’t need to listen to, reconsider, or even try to understand your argument, because I have already determined that you have no valid point, and I have no obligation to hear you out. I know I’m right and you are not. 

But more than that, it suggests two horrible things about prayer that are untrue and misleading.  First, it suggests that my only interest in praying for you is to “fix” you.  In other words, I can’t convince you to see things my way, so I will reluctantly spend some of my precious time praying that you see things my way.  I won’t listen to you, try to understand you, or give you any of my respect, but I will do my best to bring your bad behavior and/or faulty beliefs to God’s attention (in contrast to my.own).  Prayer should never be a threat, or a weapon to be used against another person. Nor should it be a boast about one’s self-righteousness or moral superiority.

Secondly, this way of saying, “I’ll pray for you” suggests that prayer is leverage; that I have God on some kind of leash.  I pray when things aren’t going my way, and God “fixes” them–including people who don’t share my theology or doctrine or worship preference.  Anyone who prays with this mindset is not really praying, and God will not be impressed or coerced into doing anything that goes against His will– no matter how “righteous” I may believe it to be.

One of the dangers of writing and talking about prayer in a public forum is the risk of seeming to or actually to impose personal preferences, practices, and beliefs on others.  I hope to suggest many prayer thoughts and practices that I find true, helpful, challenging, or even dangerous, but I don’t want to insist that there is only one way to think about prayer or to practice it.  Prayer is our way of communicating with our creator.  He didn’t make us all the same; we don’t all like the same things, we don’t all interact the same way; we don’t have the same talents, passions, or responses to the world around us.  The one constant in prayer is God.  What I believe about God will determine how I pray, why I pray, maybe even when or how often I pray.  But it won’t determine God’s character or his actions toward another person.  I cannot make God make you do anything.  I cannot use God as some kind of enforcer or hypnotist or brain-washer– nor should I wish to.  Because that’s not how God works, either.  He desires that everyone come to Him willingly.  He invites us into relationship with Him, not abject humiliation and mindless submission.

I do pray for people who dislike or despise me, who dishonor or deny God.  I pray for their health, their safety, and their redemption.  I pray for family and close friends and complete strangers.  But I should do so knowing that God cherishes each person–gave his life for each one.  God is not a bully, even though he has been characterized as such by some.  God wants us to pray for everyone–not with pride or bitterness or an agenda, but with his compassion, grace, and love.

“Sheepish” Prayers

“The Lord is my Shepherd…” (Psalm 23: 1)

How often do I recite this favorite Psalm without really thinking about it? In the words of this Psalm, I am loved, cherished, sustained, and led by Him. But am I in reality? Do I submit to His leadership and guidance? When I pray, am I really coming to meet with my Shepherd, or am I trying to meet with God on some other level or in some other relationship?

I’ve been reading through the first few books of the Bible. I’m in Numbers right now, and Moses is leading the Israelites through the wilderness. The spies have just returned from Canaan, and the people have rebelled against God, weeping and accusing God of leading them to the Promised Land only to have them die in battle with the giants of the land.

I read through this and shake my head, but haven’t I done similar things in my walk with God? I want to avoid the wilderness. I want to walk in the green pastures, but I don’t want to travel through the valley of the shadow of death to get there! I look at obstacles and setbacks as though God were sitting far away, arms akimbo, laughing at my struggles; in reality, He is right beside me all the way, waiting to help me overcome each obstacle and gain victory together with Him. I’m looking at the giants, when He wants me to trust Him for the milk and honey He has promised. I still have to face the giants, and the battles ahead– but I don’t have to face them alone. I don’t have to face them in my own strength, my own limited wisdom, or my limited vision.

But here’s what I am learning as I read through this section of the Bible right now:

God IS with me. He doesn’t leave me or give me anything HE can’t handle. But I have to walk through the wilderness. I have to fight battles. I have to face giants. I have to learn to trust for my daily bread– whether it is manna or money to buy bread–daily. I have to listen to His voice; not impose my plans and ask for Him to bless them.

God doesn’t want me wrapped up or caged: He will not take away my freedom to follow (or NOT follow) Him. And when I wander, He may allow me to wander in circles for a while (hopefully not forty years!), but He will still be right there, ready to lead me when He sees that I am ready to move forward.

He will supply all that I really need– water from the rock, bread from Heaven– not because I have the money or resources, I think I’ve earned, but because He IS my provider. He can part the Red Sea; He can destroy Pharaoh’s armies. He can make the earth swallow up those who threaten me and defy Him. I am safe, even in the wilderness, when I stay close to the Shepherd!

He will counsel and correct me. He will offer forgiveness again and again. He will not leave me lost or unable to return to His side. He will be a “Presence” in my life, wherever I go– day or night.

He sees me and He hears me– which is both comforting and fear-inducing. But it is a healthy fear; an awesome and reverent fear; one that keeps me humble. After all, I am a sheep, NOT the Shepherd! I can call out to Him, and He knows where I am (because He is right there, too), and He knows what I need. God saw the Israelites worshipping the Golden Calf even as He was speaking to Moses up on the mountain. God heard Moses as he pleaded for mercy, even in His anger and wrath.

He calls me by name. The Bible, especially the Old Testament, is full of individual names. Not just the ones we study in Sunday School; not just the ones in the children’s stories; but names of the leaders of the various tribes of Israel, and names of the spies, names of craftsmen God had selected to build the Ark and all the items needed for the Tabernacle, and names of those who rebelled. I am not lost in the crowd; I am not forgotten among the many. God knows me intimately– just as He knows you!

Even when my prayers seem like whining, bleating, plaintive “baa-ing”, I know my Shepherd hears. And He delights to hear from me. He delights in leading me through the wilderness and providing for my every need. And His promises sustain me when I don’t know what’s coming next, or I fear what I see on the horizon.

So I will pray today, and tomorrow, and every day, knowing that even my– especially my– “sheepish” prayers are not in vain.

Journaling Prayer

Full disclosure– I’m not any type of expert on either prayer or journal writing.  But I do keep a prayer log of sorts, and I want to share how that works for me, and why I think it is helpful.

My prayer “journal” is actually a set of four standard notebooks I picked up on sale about two and a half years ago at an office supply store.  Each notebook has 100 pages.  I have labeled each page with a day (February 12, for example) at the top– three months to each notebook.  Below the date, I list people I know who are celebrating birthdays or anniversaries that day, as well as people who died on that day.  Below that, I save space for urgent prayer requests as I become aware of them.  To the side, I list a place (a country, city, or community) to pray for that day.  In the front cover or each notebook, I have a list of focus areas to pray for each day of the week, as well– things like family, leaders and authority figures, cultural issues, missions, etc.  The back side of each page is left to record answers, results, and updates.

The journal/notebook approach is not meant to lock my prayer life into a fixed routine; it is not a checklist of what I must pray for each day (and nothing else or added to everything else).  I don’t take the notebook with me everywhere– instead, I have a small notepad in my purse to jot down thoughts or requests. Sometimes, I record these in the larger notebook later, but not always.  I review the journal once a day, but I pray throughout the day– sometimes raising the names and places in the journal, other times people or situations as they come to my heart or mind.  The point is not to make an unnecessary burden of prayer.  The point is to remind me that prayer is a pursuit–an ongoing discipline as well as an intimate pouring out of my heart to God.

I’ve come to delight in turning the pages to see:

  • who is having a birthday/anniversary today– who might be encouraged with a FB post, a call or card or e-mail message
  • where in the world can I lift up people I may or may not know?  There are enough days in the year to pray for every country in the world, every U.S. state, and several major world cities or local communities–and while my list is in alphabetical order, I could have organized by geographic location, or simply listed random places for each day.  Some days, the places are familiar; other days I am inspired to look up information on places like Burkina Faso or find out more about West Virginia…
  • what was I praying about a year ago? Often, I find that my prayers have fallen into a particular pattern– and maybe I need to redirect my focus. Have I been mostly coming to God with burdens, or do my prayers reflect a heart of worship? Humility? Dependence on Him?
  • how faithful God has been over the years! Maybe there’s a burden that I’ve been praying about over many months or years, but far more often, I have forgotten the “urgent” need I was praying about just a few months ago–God answered in ways I did not anticipate. And those requests that are still “unanswered?” God HAS an answer. I just don’t know it yet.

 

Does the journal make me a better person or a better pray-er?  Well, prayer isn’t a competition, so while I would hope that it helps me develop perseverance, compassion, faithfulness, hope, trust, and wisdom in the practice and pursuit of prayer, it doesn’t make me or my prayer life “better” than someone else’s.  It is, however, a tool that is helping me chart the progress in this pursuit, and so I recommend it based on that experience.

If you feel (like I did for so many years) that your prayer life is haphazard and you want to grow in prayer, I encourage you to start with a simple journal– you don’t have to write out every thought or every request.  You don’t have to have a plan for every day.  But keep a remembrance of your prayer life –even a single item each day for a week, or a month–to look back on, and to move you forward.

For more detailed information, see my page about prayer journaling. Or do a search for “prayer journals.” You may find a system that works better for you– not because prayer needs to be systematic, but because prayer is a journey, and every journey can benefit from a journal!

 

When God says, “Wait!”

I hate waiting. Most people do. I hate waiting rooms at the doctor’s office or the waiting area at the garage or the DMV. They try to make it a bit more pleasant with music, or a TV, or magazines lying around to keep you occupied. But usually, I spend the whole time thinking of “useful” things I could be doing if I wasn’t sitting around waiting. Recently, I published my first book, and I had to wait for freshly printed copies to be sent to my door. Every day, I waited for the delivery van to pull up– and every day, I missed it. Finally, I had to pick them up at the post office. Those few days seemed to take forever.

But I have learned over the years that waiting is necessary, and even good sometimes.

I was thinking about my first “real” teaching job–not student teaching or getting called in as a substitute, but a permanent position. I applied for a teaching job in my hometown. They needed an English teacher for middle and high school– perfect! I felt the interview went well, and I was a “known quantity”– many of the staff knew me from my time as a student just a few years before. Nevertheless, I waited and waited and finally got bad news. The job had gone to another applicant with more teaching experience. I was disappointed. I had prayed so hard, and it seemed like the perfect “fit.” I knew I should trust that God knew about my situation, and had everything in hand, but I just felt the outcome wasn’t “right.” What would I do now? I looked for other teaching positions, but could find nothing. I ended up doing substitute teaching. It was sporadic and unpredictable. I wasn’t really teaching as much as babysitting– especially in classes like elementary music!

Still, I learned a lot about classroom discipline; something I hadn’t really experienced much of before. My student teaching had been done with master teachers who were amazing examples of quiet but stern management. Even when they “turned their class over” to me in the final weeks, the students knew that their other teachers would back me up in a classroom situation.

Not so with substitute teaching! Not only was I “on my own” in the classroom, I frequently traveled to schools where I knew no one on staff and no one knew me. I had no idea what kind of discipline was practiced by either the teacher or the administration at some of the schools. Most were ok, and staff were friendly and supportive. Most of the students were typically a bit naughty, but not out of reason. But not all! There was one class of over thirty-five fourth- and fifth-graders whose teacher had left no lesson plans, and another day at a high school where the entire staff was intimidated by the football team– most of whom were in the same third hour class. The lesson plan called for them to do research in the library– the librarian hid– and I was trying to stop them from literally throwing the pumpkins that were meant to be decorations at each other!

All this to say that after several months, I got a phone call. It was my old school, wanting to know if I would be interested in finishing out the school year in the position I had applied for the previous fall. It turns out the teacher they had hired had serious health issues and had missed over 60 days! They had been trying to fill in with substitutes, but wanted someone who could bring stability and order to the classes for the last marking periods of the year.

My first week in the new position was a nightmare. Every class had fallen behind. The succession of substitutes had given up. The classes lacked discipline and focus. In fact, the other regular teacher had written off all the students as irredeemable hooligans, and she was glad to give up the position. My first day, one of the high school students attempted to sneak out of the window at the back of the classroom, while another classmate tried to sneak out the door! And I found out that my last hour class was to be held in the middle school band room– it was a computer class! I had to commute from the high school to the middle school, which took up part of my preparation period, so I had little time for planning or grading paperwork.

In spite of all the challenges, that first “trial by fire” proved that I really was a “fit” for the position after all. I spent another seven years teaching in my hometown. Eventually, my schedule was changed and I no longer had to commute. I loved my students (most of them), and I am still in touch with some of them to this day! Even the ones from that first disastrous partial year.

God did not answer those first eager prayers that I should get the teaching position right away. And even when I finally “got” it, it was filled with challenges and obstacles. But in the waiting, God was there. Even in the difficult substitute assignments, and the adjustments, and the questions about why I didn’t get the job when I first interviewed.

God may not tell us audibly why He wants us to wait. He won’t tell us how long we must wait. And He generally doesn’t put us in a “waiting room”, filled with soothing music or distracting TV ads or old magazines. But we can trust that God has good reasons for us to wait– whether it’s for a job, or a spouse, a chronic illness, loss of income, or change in circumstances. What He asks is that we trust Him, and that we continue walking a praying in faith. Because I will be worth the wait.

“…Lose All Their Guilty Stains!”

“There is a fountain filled with blood
Drawn from Immanuel’s veins;
And sinners plunged beneath that flood
Lose all their guilty stains.”
William Cowper

I love old hymns. So often, they express Biblical truths in simple purity, or in soaring poetry, that captures both the imagination and the memory.

Recently, I was listening to a radio broadcast of a sermon about mercy. It was a wonderful sermon, and the pastor talked about the richness and wideness of God’s mercy and lovingkindness in various situations– when we face injustice, pain, loss and grieving, guilt, and even when we are unaware of it throughout our life (Psalm 139:16-17) From the womb to the tomb, we live in the Mercy of God– God extends His Mercy and Grace for as long as we are alive to call out for it, accept it, and receive it. More than that, His Mercy and Lovingkindness endures forever (Psalm 136).

Later that day, I was doing housework– I had dirty dishes to wash and laundry to do. And there were stains! I have plastic dishes that I used to heat up leftovers in the microwave, and some of those leftovers had tomato-based sauce or cinnamon or turmeric. The dishes have a film of red or brown or yellow that didn’t come out, even when I washed and soaked them. A few of the stains will eventually fade away, but some of them will never come out. I also have clothes that are stained. David and I still wear them around the house, but there are paint stains, ink stains, oily stains, and mustard stains that didn’t come out the first time I washed (or the second or third time!)

As humans, we all have stains of one type or another. We try to hide them; we try to scrub them; we try to cover them up. Some of our stains are external and visible– scars or blemishes, imperfections and disabilities, worn or tattered “second-hand” clothes, missing teeth, poor posture, obesity, being “too” short or tall–things that people notice right away. Other stains are deep inside– guilt, shame, fear, anger, hatred, bigotry, envy, arrogance, hopelessness, depression, broken-heartedness, loneliness– we try to hide them by isolating, covering up, pretending that all is well, or denying the extent of our brokenness.

I was touched by the sermon about how God’s Mercy reaches us in all of these circumstances. The Bible is full of examples of God’s Mercy and its transforming power. But the words of this old hymn came to my mind, and a deeper realization swelled as I sang them quietly in my own heart: “And sinners plunged beneath that flood LOSE ALL THEIR GUILTY STAINS!”

I spend time washing and scrubbing at stains– silly mistakes, accidents, upsets– and even if I am successful, I can often point out where the stains were or find the last vestiges of them on an old shirt or a white plastic bowl. But I don’t “LOSE” stains. I don’t have the power to make stains totally disappear– especially stubborn ones like ink and oil. But the stains I worry about most– guilt, pain from my past, worry about how others might judge me– these stains are all in my doubting mind. In God’s Mercy, THEY DON’T EXIST! That doesn’t mean that others WON’T still judge me, or that I won’t still remember old hurts. But God WON’T! Their power is broken. God has removed them as far as the east is from the west (Psalm 103:12-14)

Sin leaves stains in our lives– even if the sin wasn’t ours to begin with. That person who bullied me in third grade– that left a stain. The way I reacted– that probably left a stain, too. When I nearly died as an infant– that wasn’t my sin, or even my parent’ sin. But it left a stain because I was born into a world where we have disease, defects, and disasters. I have Diabetes. Part of that “stain” can be blamed on things I ate, and lifestyle choices I made. Part of that is genetic. There are people who live with abuse, injustice, chronic pain, and lasting heartaches. And God’s Mercy didn’t stop any of that from staining their lives.

But the “fountain…drawn from Immanuel’s veins” is powerful enough, and God’s Mercy is amazing enough to make those stains disappear. In this life, I still have to deal with diabetes, fatigue, misunderstandings, and my own sinful lapses. People still struggle with cancer, poverty, war, and doubt. But the stains won’t follow Christians into eternity. There won’t be any vestiges of uncleanness; there won’t be any memory of the hurts and losses we suffered during this lifetime. Christ’s blood is powerful enough, and His Mercy vast enough to make the effects of sin DISAPPEAR!

Prayer Requests

As someone who pursues prayer passionately, you might suspect that I hear a lot of prayer requests. And I do. And even so, it’s not enough. I always look for more! I admit to trolling on Facebook for prayer requests; following the church newsletter for prayer requests; and even asking friends if they have any requests when we chat. But what about prayer requests that aren’t exactly requests–

“Oh. It’s really nothing. I’m not worried about it or anything…”
“We’re just going through a rough patch. Nothing to be really concerned about…”
“It’s just something I have to deal with..”
“The doctor says it’s a chronic condition, so it’s just something I have to get used to…”
“I know so many other people who are hurting worse than we are…”

Sometimes, prayers are shortened or even missed because we are looking for prayer requests instead of prayer opportunities. Prayer is an opportunity to talk to God about anything that is on MY mind or in MY heart. Often, it comes in the wisp of a stray thought about someone else. Maybe I haven’t heard from them in weeks (or even years!), but suddenly, they are on my mind. Suddenly, I have an opportunity to pray for them. Do I know what is on their heart or mind? Probably not. But God knows! That schoolmate from fifth grade? Pray for them. So what if I only remember their first name– or their maiden name or their childhood nickname–God knows! That former co-worker who was having a rough time with her teenage son ten years ago? Ten years have passed! I know the son is now an adult. I don’t know if the relationship is better or worse now than it was a decade ago. I don’t even know for sure that the co-worker or her son are still alive. But God knows! My neighbor who seems to be doing fine, but I keep thinking about them, and I don’t know why– God knows! Each one is an opportunity to pray– nothing elaborate or specific– just to lovingly lift them up before God’s throne!

And what about the “actual” requests that I hear or see on-line? Sometimes, there are no details or specifics about “what” I am praying for. But it doesn’t matter. Because God already knows. Even more, He knows the end from the beginning, even if it isn’t exactly what is being requested. I can lift up in prayer situations about which I know very little– because God knows. And for those situations that seem dire or impossible– God knows those, too. And I can lift them up with confidence, even when I have no answers and the problems seem overwhelming.

This sounds easy, but it’s not. It forces me to step away from each request, each situation in which I might try to stake my own “claim.” Yes, I want my friend’s cancer to disappear, or my co-worker and her daughter to have a repaired and healthy relationship. But I don’t have the first clue how to make that happen. I don’t have any answers. I don’t know what GOD has planned in those situations. And while I know what sounds or feels good in the moment, I don’t know what is best in the grand scheme of things. But God knows! He doesn’t want me to solve each problem; He doesn’t need me to offer my “best” suggestion of how He should solve it. All He wants is for me to trust HIM to care for each need. In HIS way, in HIS time, and in the fulness of HIS love!

During Jesus’ ministry here on earth, He prayed many times, but His prayers rarely dwelt on details about specific situations. In fact, in teaching His disciples how to pray, He included the phrase, “THY kingdom come, THY Will be done in earth as it is in Heaven.” (Matthew 6:10) And that is a perfect phrase to exercise, whether I have a specific request, or a flash of memory, or a nagging worry about someone or something.

The same is true when it is my turn to request prayer. There are many times I find myself like the people I quoted above– trying to make light of a situation or avoid actually requesting prayer. It may sound humble and self-deprecating, but there is an element of arrogance in saying “I don’t need prayer for …”(whatever situation). We ALL need prayer. We ALL need to live in the assurance that we can “cast all our cares upon Him, for He cares for us” (1 Peter 5:7 paraphrased). And we need to acknowledge that we should share our cares with others as they share their cares with us. And that we need to allow for God to involve others in the way He cares for us. Asking for prayer is a way of allowing others to share our concerns– and share in our joy of receiving answers to prayer! Requesting others to pray for us is not a weakness. We are not being a burden on others when we allow them to pray for us.

That is not to say that I need to publish every problem and concern on Facebook or in the Church Newsletter! Nor should I try to dictate how or when or what others should pray for me. But it does mean that I must be open to sharing the very real struggles I have with trusted friends, especially if they ask how they can pray for me. Even the “chronic” ones; even the “silly” ones. Because I don’t know how God may use that opportunity in THEIR life; nor do I know how God may use their prayers to bless my life.

But GOD knows!

The Lost Art of Saying Grace

“God is great, God is Good…”
“Come, Lord Jesus, be our guest…”
“For what we are about to receive…”
“Bless us, O Lord, and these, Thy gifts…”

Saying grace at the family dinner table used to be a tradition.  So much so, that it has been made fun of several times in the movies and on television.  Some families recited a favorite prayer; others selected a family member to do the honors.  Some families held hands; some closed their eyes; some stood.  But NOBODY touched their plate until the Amen.

Grace has fallen out of favor in recent years.  Some families still practice it for the holidays or special occasions, but many of us have lost the art of saying grace.  In fact, many of us no longer have a family dinner table.  Some of us eat, sleep, and live alone; others share a house, but rarely a meal, and never a grace.  I would like to think that many of us WOULD say grace more often if  we made time and effort for it, but many others actually hold grace in contempt, calling it old-fashioned; a senseless ritual, or a meaningless tradition.

I want to look a little more closely at grace– how and why we say it, and what it means (or should mean) as part of our daily walk with God.  Calling grace a meaningless tradition may sound harsh, but it may also be a valid criticism.  If “Come, Lord Jesus…” could be replaced with “Gentlemen, start your engines…”, then it might be time to rethink the entire practice.  Similarly, if we dust off grace, only to say it for company, or to show that we still acknowledge tradition and have “good manners”, we’re missing the point.  Grace should be more than just a moment to bow our heads, say a few familiar words, and dig in…grace has become laughable and spoof-able precisely because it has become senseless, formulaic, awkward, and grudging.

I am a big fan of Jimmy Stewart. And this short clip from the beginning of the movie Shenandoah is a prayer said sarcastically by a bitter man who lost his wife and promised her that he would continue to raise their children in a “Christian” home, in spite of his own anger against God. (He later has a change of heart in the movie.) There are many other film and TV scenes that make fun of saying grace without any remorse, repentance, but with a heavy dose of disdain.

I read a tragic statement by someone who claimed that saying grace is actually “graceless”– tactless and inane.  The writer suggested that when we thank God for food, we are really thanking him for feeding us, and choosing to bless us, as he allows others to starve– that saying grace makes us feel more special/less guilty in light of social and economic inequities, which he blithely allows.  In other words, saying grace, in this person’s opinion, makes us arrogant and apathetic to the condition of others, while giving an unjust God undeserved thanks.

I would posit that it should be just the opposite.  I suppose there are many who pray with the arrogant mindset suggested above, but their mindsets and their hearts are not mine to judge.  True grace is not about the recipient of the grace, or the other potential recipients of grace, but about the giver–God– and his worthiness to receive our sincere thanks.  If I believe that God is indeed unjust, then it makes little sense to feel “blessed” or “special” at all– an unjust God is also capricious and unreasonable is not likely to be impressed or swayed by my smug “thank you,” anyway.  So not praying doesn’t make me any less arrogant or apathetic toward others, nor does it move me to be more grateful or more generous than one who prays.  It merely passes the blame for all injustice to God, leaving me off the hook, and making me feel more just than God.

tablegrace

However, if God is loving and gracious, promising perfect justice in his time, and forgiveness to those who seek him; a God who promises to be close to the poor in spirit, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, and who are broken and contrite; I am not thanking him for who I am, for what I have, or for what I think he should do.  I am thanking him for who he is and for what he has chosen to give.  Some days, I may NOT have a lot to eat, or pleasant surroundings. I may be the victim of injustice done by evil people. But I can still thank God for what I DO have and for who HE is. And on those other days, in thanking him for the very things I would take for granted, I am reminded that blessings are not given for me to boast about or hoard, but to share with others.  That’s what saying grace SHOULD do–cause us to reflect on God’s goodness, our true neediness, and our call to share God’s blessings with a needy world.

Grace is also an invitation– asking God to be part of every moment of our day.  According to his Word, he’s always present, anyway.  But grace is a way of acknowledging and welcoming that presence.  And that invitation isn’t limited to Thanksgiving or Sunday dinner with the whole gang.  That invitation can be made anywhere, by anyone, at any meal (or snack, or midnight raid on the fridge!)

Is God welcome at our dinner table?  Does he share in our drive-thru breakfast, or our trip to the deli?  Do we allow him to join us at the restaurant, where others might overhear and find us quaint and old-fashioned?  Does he sit with us in front of the TV or computer as we absent-mindedly munch on a sandwich?  Grace isn’t about our goodness, our riches, or worthiness to enjoy God’s blessings.  Grace is about a gracious God who has poured out blessings on a graceless and fallen world; a God who loves us all equally and offers to give us something more precious than food– freedom, forgiveness, and family–forevermore.

gracelady

“God IS great; God IS good; Now we thank him for our food.”
“Come, Lord Jesus, be our Guest; let this food to us be BLESSED”
“For what we are about to receive, may the Lord make us TRULY grateful.”
“Bless us, O Lord, and these, THY gifts, which we are about to receive from THY bounty. Through Christ, our Lord. Amen.”
“Dear Heavenly Father, thank you for this day and this food. Bless it to our good and to your glory. May all we say and do bring honor to Your Name. Amen.”

 

The Saints’ and Angels’ Song

In an earlier post, I wrote about an old hymn, “I Love to Tell the Story.” I called it “Mr. Teeter’s Song” as it was a favorite of one of the men in the church where I spent my childhood.

Today, I want to talk about another great old hymn, “The Love of God…(Is Greater Far).” I love the lyrics of the third verse:

Could we with ink the ocean fill,
and were the skies of parchment made;
were ev’ry stalk on earth a quill,
and ev’ryone a scribe by trade;
to write the love of God above
would drain the ocean dry;
nor could the scroll contain the whole,
though stretched from sky to sky

As Christians, we speak often of the Love of God. We talk about it, we sing about it, we hype it, and we brag about it. But sometimes, it’s good to be still and meditate on it for a bit. God’s Love is greater than even our best imagination can comprehend. God’s Love is more powerful, more enduring, richer, and more wonderful than all the greatest writers and poets can express; than all the mathematicians could ever sum up. It is more beautiful than all the artists together could ever attempt to capture. The human heart cannot hold the full reality of God’s Love! God loves EVERYONE. Everywhere. ALL the Time and FOR all time!

When we pray, we are talking to the ONE who loves us utterly, perfectly, and completely. He knows all or our secret shame, all our unfulfilled longings, and all our deepest hurts. And He LOVES US!

I focused on my favorite verse from this hymn above, but today, I also want to take a closer look at the second verse– the one we often skip over:

When ancient time shall pass away,
and human thrones and kingdoms fall;
when those who here refuse to pray
on rocks and hills and mountains call;
God’s love so sure, shall still endure,
all measureless and strong;
grace will resound the whole earth round—
the saints’ and angels’ song.

The Love of God– Frederick M. Lehman

We live in a world that is obsessed with human endeavor and the natural world, without giving much thought to the God who created both humans and the world in which we live. Many people will go out of their way to ignore the spiritual– and others who pervert spirituality– and it results in a cheapening of what Love is really all about. God’s love is not like human love–temporary, imperfect, and often self-centered. God’s love is selfless and pure. And it is this love we are to grow into.

Two hymns. One tells the “story” of Jesus and His Love. Another echoes the “song” of angels and saints– those who live in and trust in the glory of Jesus and His Love.

The Love of God– this is the Good News. Christ is the embodiment of that Love– a love that lived and died for others; a love that embraced sinners, healed the sick, and restored the dead to life. The Love of God– eternal, rich, and perfect! May our prayers, our songs, and our lives reflect the “Saints’ and Angels’ Song” today!

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑