Can You Hear Me Now?

We experienced some storms last week, and while we didn’t have a lot of damage from the winds and rain, my husband and I lost our internet connection over the weekend.  No wireless internet meant no Facebook, no WordPress, no e-mail, and no cash register at our little shop downstairs.  We had to do every transaction by hand until we could rig up something so our smart phone could accept cards; no new chip cards, no Apple Pay or PayPal.  And while our phone could begin to accept limited credit payments, it could not provide any printed receipts, nor could it do double duty– we either had a phone or a point-of-sale device, but not both!

It was an inconvenience, but not a disaster.  I thought about thousands of people who are stuck in the aftermath of hurricanes, tornadoes, floods, earthquakes, and blizzards who have no electricity, no phone lines, no cell service, no roads, no water or sewer lines–cut off from common necessities and basic communication.  Suddenly, an emergency becomes even more tragic because of the isolation, and the inability to ask for help or to hear any message of hope.  (Of course, my husband would like me to put in a short plug here about the advantages of amateur radio– the radios can run on battery power and still connect over hundreds of miles!)

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Isolation is an earthly concept.  God is eternally Triune.  He created us for relationship; from the very beginning, he declared that it is not good for “man” to be alone (Genesis 2:18)  God instituted marriage, and families, and communities so that we would stay connected, and he himself came to walk and talk with mankind in the Garden of Eden before the Fall.  It is mankind who hid from God and broke off communication– one of the effects of Sin is the desire to run away, to separate, to isolate and cut off relationships and break off contact.

That is one reason that prayer is so basic; so essential.  It is a lifeline to the one who loves us best, who knows what we need, and has the power to hear us, to help us, to lift us up wherever we may be, whatever our circumstances.

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But sometimes, even when we want to talk to God, it seems impossible to speak or feel like he hears us.  Sometimes, we are the ones who can’t come up with words, or can’t settle our minds to seek his face.  Sometimes, we pour out our hearts and wait in silence for an answer.   Why should it be that just when we need it most, prayer seems the hardest?

I wish I had a pithy, perfect answer.  I don’t know.  I have a few incomplete thoughts, though:

  • what comes easily has less value to us.  Cheap and pointless conversation doesn’t make us work hard, but it also leaves us empty and unsatisfied.  Crying out to God is hard–it humbles us, it strips us bare and uncovers all our pretenses and subterfuge.  The true depth of our need is ripped out of us like a tumor, and it hurts, but it is a healing hurt.  Waiting in silence can cause us to become restless and to doubt, but it also can cause us to listen more attentively– we strain to hear the answer; we stop the white noise of busyness and half-hearted hand-wringing, and listen with our whole being.  And the smallest whisper– that still, small voice– has the power of the first rain after a long drought.  We are revitalized and our strength renewed as never before.

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  • sometimes, though not always, we find prayer difficult because we have not really prayed for a long time (if ever)– we have developed a habit of saying words to the empty air and thinking that the words themselves hold some power of hope or magic or self-fulfilling prophecy.  When life’s realities cannot be wished away with simple words, we search for distractions, for other types of words, for other “realities”, when we should be searching for our maker and the lover of our souls.
  • sometimes, it is a matter of unacknowledged or unconfessed sin that keeps us from breaking through in prayer.  However, there are many people who will use this as a default position, and that, too, is wrong.  Jesus had such difficulty in praying at Gethsemane that he sweat drops of blood— NOT because of unconfessed sin, but because his heart was that overwhelmed.  Still, we should examine ourselves to see if we have started to move away from God– better to turn back than to go father afield.
  • sometimes, as with Christ in the Garden, our hearts are just overwhelmed in the moment– it’s hard to breathe!  It’s hard to go on; it’s hard to ask for help; it’s hard to keep the faith.  Just because it’s difficult, don’t give up– even if all you can do is groan or whimper–even if it feels like God has closed up the heavens and left you alone–don’t give up.  God DOES hear, he DOES care.  Sometimes, we are inches from victory– don’t give up!

And what can we do during those times?  Again, I wish I had better answers, but what I have, I want to share– some from my own experience, some wisdom from others, some of both:

  • Learn to “pray outside the box”–
    • Sing–sing the blues, sing an old hymn, sing along with the radio, sing like nobody else is listening
    • Write it out– write a letter, write an angry letter if you have to– write a rant, write a poem, write out all your questions
    • Move– dance, pace, run, punch a pillow, do some sit-ups, mop the floor, scrub the sink– as you get a rhythm going, add your thoughts or questions to your movements
    • Cry it out– it’s ok to cry, moan, sob, weep, or just stare into space and rock yourself to sleep after all the tears have dried up.  Jesus wept (John 11:35)– what makes us think that we can’t?

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  • Count your blessings
    • Make a list of what you have; what you have to be grateful for; what you have experienced and enjoyed now or in the past
    • Make a list of your questions, concerns, needs, wants, wishes–Now think back ten years and make a list of what you wanted then, and how many of those concerns have been answered, altered, or forgotten.
    • Put yourself in another time or place– what do you have here and now that others lack?  How do your present troubles compare to what others have had to deal with?
  • Ramp up your pursuit of God in other areas–
    • Search for answers in His word
    • Seek the companionship of someone you trust who will help you keep on going
    • Seek out counselors, web sites, and/or a church group or family who can keep you from becoming isolated

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The single most important thing is to continue the pursuit– seek God with all your heart–and you will find him sufficient through the silent times, as well as through the roaring of the fiercest storms.

 

Presumptuous Prayer

The Christian life is often one of paradox–We are “in” the world, but not “of” the world; we “die to the flesh”, even as we continue to breathe and walk and eat in our fleshly bodies.  Prayer is part of that paradox– we dare to present ourselves before the throne of Almighty God, yet we are told to call him “Our Father”, and to come boldly.  We call on one who is unseen, unknowable, and sovereign, and we’re told to ask for anything in Jesus’ name, and it will be done.

This can lead to problems, as we try to resolve the paradox– sometimes we dare too much; other times, we ask too little.  I want to take a peek at how this works, especially as I have a problem with the latter.

Why do I feel it is a presumption to ask God for help?  Why do I ask God to do the least that I might expect from Him, when He offers miracles for the asking?  Why do I wait to bring my requests to God, hoping that I can solve them myself and not “bother” him?  Do I not trust him?  Do I not trust him enough?  Why do I get discouraged when my prayers are not answered “my way?”  Immediately!  When hardship comes, why do I assume that it is an accident–a miscarriage of justice–and call out to God as though he is unaware of my dilemma?

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I think we come to prayer with a few faulty assumptions about God:

  • we believe that God doesn’t know– that he is unaware of our needs or our circumstances, , our sense of urgency, or the depth of our despair; that he will be embarrassed by our lack of obedience or the simplicity of our request
  • we believe that God doesn’t care– we fear that God will be distant, disapproving, or even disdainful; unwilling to help us until we “clean up our act.”  Or we believe that he delights in testing us, watching us struggle, withholding help until we are properly humbled and abject in our obedience.  Perhaps we believe that “God helps those who help themselves,” and therefore, he is waiting for us to work ourselves to the limit before we bother him with our troubles.  We believe that “if God really cared” he would give us what we want, when we want it, and how we want it
  • we believe that God is unable– that we have messed up so badly, even God can’t fix our mistakes; that what we are asking is stretching God to do what is beyond his plan or purpose; that our request is too broad in its scope for God to attend to it
  • we believe that God isn’t really GOD–we have doubts about his existence, his reality, his presence, and his power over all our circumstances

We also come with assumptions about ourselves:

  • we believe that we are unworthy of God’s love, care, time, power, concern, or attention
  • we believe that we are worthy–worthy of special treatment and privileges denied to others because of who we are or what we’ve done; worthy of a life devoid of pain, stress, hardship, or struggle
  • we believe that we know better than God how to meet our needs; we believe that we have all the answers, and God’s job is to do our bidding
  • we believe that coming to God in prayer is a sign of weakness, laziness, or neediness that brands us as “less” than others who live life on “their terms”
  • we believe that our wants and needs are not important; that our dreams and desires must be squashed in order to serve God

If we assume any (or all) of these things, our prayers will swing wildly from wimpy hand-wringing and grudging worship to impatient demands and selfish complaints.

God knows– he sees everything; he knows your very thoughts before you think them!  God cares– he loves each of us with an eternal, limitless love– a perfect love that casts out fear and bids us to draw near to him, but doesn’t spoil us, indulge our selfishness, or set us up for failure.
God is able–just because we don’t see the answer we want in our current situation doesn’t mean that answer isn’t on its way.  Look back at the ways God has been faithful in the past–Can’t He Do It!

We are unworthy–in our own power–but we are also cherished by God, who makes us worthy through faith in the finished work of Jesus Christ.  Our privilege of coming to and communing with Almighty God is not a presumption in itself– it is a gift given by him in the moment that the veil was torn from top to bottom in the temple– the very moment Christ fulfilled the law, the barriers were removed, and God made it possible to come into his very presence.
We know only in part, and we see only in part– God sees the whole; the end from the beginning.  He knows what is best, not only for us, but for all of creation.
When we come to God, it is a sign of submission– not weakness.  It is a sign that we recognize God’s right to be God, and our privilege to live and work and commune with him, instead of acting and living in rebellion against him.
Because he knows our every thought, and he loves us completely, he cares about our every need.  When we trust in him– in his goodness, his faithfulness, his timing, and his sovereignty, he doesn’t promise us a life without hardship; but he does promise peace that passes all understanding as we go through those hardships.

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In the end, our faulty assumptions come from making ourselves too big– taking pride in our own worthiness, strength, and intelligence; or exaggerating our faults, mistakes, and unmet expectations– and making God too small to meet our needs or understand our hearts.

God wants us to presume on his Goodness and Might– not on our own wisdom and worthiness.

 

Positioning for Prayer

Bow, kneel, stand; hands folded, hands raised, hands clasped–there are many positions we assume when praying.  And different types of prayer seem to have different positions.  We tend to say grace seated or standing behind our chair at the table.  Some families hold hands; others bow their heads and fold their hands.  Some corporate prayers call for kneeling; others are said standing.  Some people bow, some kneel on the floor with arms outstretched; some curl up in their favorite easy chair; some face east or toward a certain focal point; some touch or hold an object, like a rosary or a Bible, or the wall or surface of a sacred place.  Some pray with eyes closed; others with eyes raised toward Heaven.

Does any of this posturing and positioning really matter?  Does God have a preference?  A requirement?  Does He get offended if I stand, or keep my eyes open or neglect to hold my hands a certain way?

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The answer is not as easy as one might think–The Bible has many specific accounts of prayer, as well as many commands and guidelines.  Hebrew priests stood with hands raised to pronounce blessing and to seek God’s favor.  King David’s psalms are poetic prayers.  They don’t often describe a position of standing or kneeling, but many of them imply a position of lying down, pacing, clapping, shouting, climbing, etc.  Jesus often prayed alone, and spoke of praying privately– in corners and closets away from prying eyes and listening ears.  On the night of the Last Supper and in the Garden of Gethsemane, the Bible describes Jesus as praying while “looking toward Heaven” (John 17:1), and later, “he fell with his face to the ground and prayed.” (Matthew 26: 39)

All this indicates that positions matter in relation to the function or the nature of the prayer.  And that’s where I want to focus my thoughts today.

God isn’t displeased if I stand to pray, rather than kneel–unless I am standing in pride and arrogance.  He is pleased if I kneel in humble and contrite spirit, but not if I kneel out of false humility or to impress others with my self-righteous posturing.  If I bow my head at the table out of habit, and forget who I am supposed to be talking to, or “pretend” to kneel instead of leaving the comfort of my chair– then I may need to take a new position; a new attitude of prayer.

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God isn’t impressed with our physical position in prayer– but I believe he wants our whole self, our undivided attention and our physical and emotional expression and attitude.  Sometimes, the physical position comes as a natural extension of our grief, our joy, our reverence, and our stillness before His throne.  Other times, our physical position brings us out of our pride, our busyness, and prepares our heart attitude.

I have had moments–even days– when I was not naturally motivated to quiet my spirit, bow my head or my heart, and kneel before my Maker.  But in kneeling, and bowing my head, and closing my eyes, I was positioning more than just my body.  I was coming in obedience to the one– the only one– who can transform my mind, renew my spirit, and soothe my restless heart.  Other times, I could not kneel for the joy and exuberance of the moment.  Standing on tiptoe, hands raised, head raised, and heart raised, I sang out to my Father in gratitude and awe.

So the answer to the question– Does our position in prayer matter?– would seem to be, “no.”  What matters is our attitude. God is not impressed or fooled by an outward show–he is concerned with our heart’s desire to be close to him. There is, however, one position that is pivotal in the pursuit of prayer.  That is the position of Faith.  In Hebrews, we are told that “without Faith, it is impossible to please God, for whoever comes to him must believe that he exists, and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him..”(Hebrews 11:6)  Jesus spoke of faith that can move mountains, even if it is the size of a mustard seed.  Whether kneeling or standing, grieving or rejoicing, our prayers must be accompanied by faith– faith that God exists; that he is loving and gracious and all-powerful to save; faith that our “position” in him is one of reconciliation and renewed life through his grace and the finished work of Jesus Christ; faith that he will hear our prayers and answer according to his will; faith that his will is altogether good and perfect– even when we don’t understand it in the here and now.

One final thought–though the Bible does not specifically require that we kneel to pray as we pursue a relationship with him, it does declare that one day, “at the name of Jesus, every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth, and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord…” (Philippians 10-11a).  I can practice kneeling in this life, knowing that it won’t go to waste!

Prayer Brings Peace

“When peace, like a river, attendeth my soul;
When sorrows, like sea-billows roll–
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
‘It is well–it is well– with my soul.'”

As I write this, all is not well with my life.  I have bills looming, a car that keeps breaking down, a leaky roof, and I’m fighting to stay healthy.  I worry about unhappy customers at work, my husband as he travels and faces danger on the job, about our aging and widowed mothers, and our kids and grandkids.  All is not well with our nation– we have anger, division, violence, and strife; a breakdown of families, moral decay, and corruption.  All is not well with our world–nations are at war, we are destroying our environment, and all the progress that was supposed to make our lives easier seems to have made life more complicated and frantic, instead.

But all is well with my soul–not because of anything I have done or anything I do– peace and assurance are mine solely through the grace of God, which he gives in abundance.

Prayer does not bring peace automatically, nor does its haphazard and occasional practice guarantee instant or lasting peace.  Meditation, solitude, and other prayer-like exercises may bring a temporary calm, a respite, and a relief.  Closing our eyes and laying our burdens at his feet can bring the same feeling.  But prayer is more than just an exercise in making us feel better.  It isn’t meant to take us away from our circumstances, or to hand them off to God while we waltz away from our burdens.  Jesus said in Matthew 11:28-30, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”  Coming to God in prayer doesn’t make burdens disappear.  But it does mean that we no longer carry them alone, and that gives us rest for our souls.  God is not in the business of making our lives easy, carefree, and comfortable.  But he promises that as we share our lives with him, trusting that his ways are good and righteous, he will not only come alongside and share our burden, he will teach us and give us rest.

This is why the pursuit of prayer is so important.  The discipline of daily and personal prayer teaches us how and where to find peace that lasts– peace that “passes all understanding” (Philippians 4:6-7).  Like the cool, refreshing water of a river soothes and gives life, so God’s grace flows into our lives as we walk and talk with him every day.

What? A Privilege?!

“What a Friend we have in Jesus,  all our sins and griefs to bear!  What a privilege to carry everything to God in Prayer!”

The word “privilege” has taken a beating lately.  A privilege used to be considered a good thing.  Merriam-Webster defines it as, “a right or immunity granted as a particular benefit, advantage, or favor.”  A privilege is granted–given as the prerogative of someone in power or authority– to someone else.  It may be given as a reward, or granted for a limited time and under certain conditions.  But a true privilege is a gift–you can’t make your own privilege, and you cannot own or control a privilege– the terms are set by the giver, not the receiver.

In the past generation, the word “privilege” has become charged with political and societal connotations.  Those connotations, and the issues surrounding them, are worthy of discussion and could fill volumes, but I want to talk about a privilege that should be free of undertones and dubious meanings.

Prayer is a pursuit, and a practice.  It is personal, practical, and powerful.  But it is also a privilege.  Often one that we take for granted.

In pursuing prayer, we are not just developing a personal routine or discipline.  We are not just approaching a powerful supernatural entity.  We are fallen creation entering the presence of a Holy Creator; we are rebels entering the throne room of the King of Kings.

We have the right to approach God; to talk to, converse with, ask favors of, plead with, confess to, and expect answers from the One who creates galaxies with a single spoken word, and designs every unique flake of snow.  This same God grants us the right to draw breath, to experience both beauty and wonder, to question and to create.

Prayer in ancient times was almost universally accompanied by sacrifices, and surrounded with ritual– incense, bowing and prostrating oneself, covering or uncovering the head–in recognition of the horrible chasm, the great separation between God and mankind.  Many traditions still use ritual for prayer, and there is nothing wrong in this reminder of God’s Holiness and Sovereignty.  Yet God talks of prayer in intimate terms.  He didn’t impose ritual and sacrifice for his benefit, but for ours.  Several times throughout the Bible, he makes clear that he does not require the blood of bulls and goats–what he wants most is a humble and pure heart.  At the moment Jesus died, the great veil in the Temple was ripped in half from top to bottom–the most holy place laid open to all who might come into God’s presence.  Christ’s death and resurrection were not just means of saving us from Hell, but the means of bringing restoration of the intimacy God designed from the beginning.  God– Almighty, Omnipotent, and completely Holy–wants to give us the privilege to enter his presence and pour out our thoughts, feelings, burdens, and triumphs; to share intimacy with HIM.  We are not just objects of his care (or his wrath), not just creatures in whom he has a certain fond but distant interest.  We are recipients of lavish love and priceless privileges– forgiveness, power over sin, power to become more Christlike, restoration and renewal, and yes,  the pursuit of  prayer.

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