The Power of a Praying Mother

Mother’s Day is coming, and I wanted to say a few words about the mothers in my life and their legacy of prayer. My Mom is a prayer warrior. I blog about prayer, and I pursue a better prayer life, but my Mom is a seasoned soldier, and the daughter of another mighty woman of prayer. Most of what I know about prayer, I learned through the examples of my Mom and Gram, but I have also been blessed by the godly examples of my mother-in-law, sister and sisters-in-law, aunts, cousins, and many more.

From my Mother, I learned to pray from the depths of my heart. I have seen and heard her pray through pain, grief, and despair– not just her own, but more often that of someone else. I have caught her holding back sobs over relatives and neighbors who don’t know or aren’t following Christ. I’ve seen her pause in silent prayer over the plight of a person who is facing a lost job, or chemotherapy, or a migraine. She very seldom offers to pray aloud,”in the moment”, but she prays fervently, nonetheless.

From my Grandmother, I learned to be patient and consistent in prayer. Gram was quiet and unassuming, but she had an unshakable faith. She prayed for years over situations that looked hopeless; often for people who or situations which never changed. I asked her once how she kept from getting angry and frustrated. She looked me straight in the eye and said, “We can’t change somebody else, and we can’t make them do what’s right. That’s not our job. Our job is to love each other, pray for each another, and let God deal with the rest.” She died never seeing answers to some of what she prayed for, but that didn’t stop others from taking up the banner, and it never stopped her from earnestly and joyfully “taking it to the Lord in Prayer.” She never gave up, never lost hope, and never stopped showing compassion.

There have been many other prayer warriors in my life– women (and men) of great faith who sought the Lord, and whose lives and words have had an unimaginable impact. My family, members of my church family, classmates and friends from school or college, neighbors through the years…some of them have held my hand and prayed with me face-to-face; others have prayed on their knees in private; some have prayed for special needs and circumstances; others have prayed at the Holy Spirit’s prompting, never knowing why, but bowing in obedience.

Praying mothers are a treasure. If you have one, or had one, don’t underestimate the value of her example. And don’t just say, “Thank you”…Pay it forward. Pray for family, neighbors and friends. Pray early, pray often, pray without ceasing. We all need more praying mothers, fathers, cousins, neighbors, co-workers, etc. If you did not have a praying mother, you have a golden opportunity to become that good example to someone else. You also have the opportunity to adopt a prayer partner– a surrogate praying mother–to pray with you and for you.

May 10, 2018 0

Great Expectations

Earlier this week, the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge (otherwise known as Prince William and Kate Middleton), welcomed their third child. As with most royal births, there was a lot of fanfare and speculation well in advance of the actual delivery. Early tabloid reports hinted at twins; bookmakers were figuring odds for delivery dates, names– even what the Duchess would be wearing as she brought the newborn outside for his first “sighting”. As of the writing of this blog, the name has yet to be announced, which is cause for more speculation and anticipation.

Preparing for a newborn is exciting, and filled with certain expectations. We imagine what the baby will look like, what kind of personality s/he will have, all the wonderful discoveries to be made. But we need to be careful not to let our expectations become idols. There’s nothing wrong with hoping for good outcomes, but it can be dangerous to get locked into a particular expected outcome. Children surprise us (in good ways and other ways) be being themselves, and not who or what we expect them to be.

When we pray, we sometimes come with certain expectations–that God will answer in a certain way or on a certain timeline. This is not the same as having faith. Faith says that God will hear our prayer; that he knows best, and that he will act in accordance with his own love and mercy. It doesn’t mean that he will give us what we want when we want it, or that he will give us what makes us comfortable and happy. His answers may seem difficult or even painful to accept– certainly not what we were expecting. When he chooses to answer in ways that don’t meet our expectations, we wonder why. When he chooses to say “wait,” or even, “no,” we may feel cheated and even resentful, instead of thankful that our prayers are heard by a loving God. Often, we have built up such expectations of what “the best” should look like that we miss the real miracle God is giving us instead.

Worse, there are times when our expectations reveal a lack of faith or a lack of understanding of God’s ways. We pray for peace, but what we really want is ease and comfort. Peace– real peace– is often revealed in times of stress, hardship and loss! We don’t want stress; we don’t pray for stress, but stress and hardship are going to come into our lives at some point. Praying for peace won’t bring stress, any more than not praying will keep it away! We expect the peace to come without the battle; we expect the growth to come without the growth pains; we expect to win the race without having to run!

Sometimes we won’t even pray for what we really want or need because we expect that God will “test” us or give us difficult circumstances if we ask for certain things (like patience or peace). We see God as some sort of cosmic con artist, who teases us with the promise of good things, only to laugh as we suffer. But this is a wrong view of God. God doesn’t play games or “trick” us by giving us hardship when we ask for healing, though it may feel like it at the time. Suffering and hardship are not the gifts of God– his amazing gift is the ability to redeem even the worst of circumstances and bring joy and rest and peace that passes any expectation, any dread, or any understanding we have. Often, our very desire for extra patience, peace, and joy are opportunities for us to learn more about God’s grace–and more about ourselves.

Life seldom meets our expectations–God is waiting to exceed even our wildest dreams! Don’t just pray expecting something good might happen. Pray expecting God to SHOW UP!

April 27, 2018 0

The Empty Cross

The most common symbol of the Christian religion is the cross. And, while many statues and necklaces and artistic renderings include a dying Christ figure , the kind you most often see is the empty cross. On this day between the crucifixion and the resurrection, I want to consider the significance of the empty cross.

First, the empty cross reminds us that Christ lived. In spite of those who continue to challenge the historical evidence, there was a man named Jesus of Nazareth. He lived in a particular time and place, and he was tried and sentenced to death by crucifixion. His existence caused the modern Western Calendar to be split into two distinctive parts based on the estimated year of his birth, and his life, death, and resurrection gave rise to a movement that has never been stamped out, equaled, or eclipsed.

Second, it reminds us that Christ died. He was fully human in his capacity to feel pain, rejection, betrayal, hunger, thirst, and grief. Yet he also experienced joy, companionship, hope, love, compassion, laughter, and growth. He didn’t just grow old or fade into obscurity. He didn’t leave his life’s work unfinished, he didn’t compromise or change his message; he didn’t give up or start over with a different “crew.” Though he never staged a coup, or built up an arsenal, or rose to a seat of power or influence, this homeless, itinerant, soft-spoken rabbi was seen as enough of a threat to the leaders of his time that he was framed, tried and convicted, and sentenced to death.
The empty cross also reminds us how he died. Modern crosses often look imposing and even triumphant, as they tower over a mega church parking lot, or hang on a chain of elegant silver, or stand in rows of chiseled rock in a military cemetery. “O death, where is your sting? O grave, where is your victory?” (I Cor. 15:55) But the torture before and during the crucifixion were brutal– bones were not broken, but they were pulled out of joint and then forced to bear the full weight of a bloody, swollen and bruised body of ripped muscles and exposed flesh. Heat caused the salty sweat mixed with blood to drip into his eyes, his open wounds, and around his nose and mouth, but he was unable to wipe any of it away. Flies gathered; he couldn’t keep them from buzzing or biting. Each breath was a torturous push and pull of the arms and body upon the nails holding him at an unnatural angle against a wooden bar that rubbed against his already raw back. And all of this was public; entertainment for the masses of hecklers, and those who were rejoicing in his humiliation and failure. There was nothing pretty or majestic about the cross on that day.

The empty cross reminds us that Jesus was buried and put under Roman guard. His emaciated, bloody, barely recognizable remains were wrapped up and prepared with spices. Guards, whose lives depended on this body remaining in the tomb and undisturbed, were posted, and a huge boulder rolled into place to block entry to and exit from the tomb. Jesus didn’t spontaneously climb down off the cross, or waltz out of an air-conditioned cave.
Finally, the empty cross reminds us that Jesus was the Christ–death could not stop him; the grave could not hold him. His victory was complete. He didn’t claw his way out of that tomb; he didn’t sneak out in the dead of night; he didn’t hobble into hiding for several weeks because he was only “mostly dead” of his torturous injuries. He arose, victorious, recognizable to those who knew him best; healed and full of power.

There are hundreds of reasons why we “cherish the Old Rugged Cross.” And, though the cross stands empty, our reasons are not. Hallelujah! Tomorrow, hundreds of millions of Christians will be celebrating the empty tomb. But for today, I want to celebrate the empty cross.

March 31, 2018 1

Why “Good” Friday Matters

Good Friday is a stumbling block for many people who would be Christians. Some get angered at the mere mention of “Good” Friday. They see nothing good in it, and no reason to celebrate. They mock Christian celebrations and practices throughout Holy Week. They ask, “What could be good about being arrested, beaten, tried in an unfair court, mocked, and condemned to death?” “What could be good about celebrating someone’s final meal, and following the gruesome details of his humiliating crucifixion?” “Why remember someone being tortured by his enemies and abandoned and even betrayed by his friends?” I know someone who uses the crucifixion of Jesus as “proof” that God is neither omnipotent, nor holy.

Yet the Bible chooses to focus time, detailed description, and several varying viewpoints to make this the pivotal event (along with the resurrection) of history. The Crucifixion does not come as a sudden and inexplicable episode in Jesus’ ministry. He predicts it; not just once, and not just in one account–he doesn’t hint vaguely at some “future trouble,” or potential danger–he gives a detailed description of what will happen to him:

Mark 10:33-34 New American Standard Bible (NASB)

³³saying, “Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be ^[a]delivered to the chief priests and the scribes; and they will condemn Him to death and will ^[b]hand Him over to the Gentiles. ³⁴They will mock Him and spit on Him, and scourge Him and kill Him, and three days later He will rise again.”

Luke 24:6-7 New American Standard Bible (NASB)

⁶He is not here, but He has ^[a]risen. Remember how He spoke to you while He was still in Galilee, ⁷saying that the Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, and be crucified, and the third day rise again.”

Why do we need Good Friday? Why, my acquaintance posits, does a loving God make salvation contingent upon the death of himself in human form? Is it that God is incapable, or unwilling to offer “unconditional” grace? After all, does he not offer “unconditional” love? Why must salvation be achieved only by the unjust death of a perfect being? Why must reconciliation and new life be forged in suffering and death?

These are not unreasonable questions, but I think they miss the broader picture. Before the cross, before the scourging and the betrayal, let’s look at the life of Christ. Jesus, the second person of the Trinity, the author of creation, could have stepped out of Heaven at any moment, and arrived in all his glory, surrounded by angels, to walk in pomp and dignity through the world he created. He could have swept the entire Roman Empire off the face of the planet, healed every disease with a whisper, and lived in the Temple in Jerusalem as the Ruler he is. Instead, he came as a helpless child, born to a teenage mom and her fiance during a grueling tax season. He grew up in relative obscurity, never attended college, and is lost to history until he begins his second career as an itinerant rabbi at age 30. He never held political office, never owned a home of his own, never wrote a book, or produced a piece of art work, never led an army into battle, never married or had children, never became wealthy, never did anything to make himself famous by worldly standards. He was not crucified because he posed an actual threat to the Roman occupation of Jerusalem, but because he was accused of blasphemy by not denying claims that he was the promised Messiah of Israel. His only “claim to fame” was that he was a dynamic teacher and had performed miraculous healings. By almost every worldly standard, his life was a failure and a lesson in wasted potential.

His death is in keeping with his humble life. It strikes us as a failure– humiliating, unjust, anti-climactic. A life of servitude, poverty, being misunderstood, and making all the “wrong” friends and enemies. Why would God live such a ridiculous and unfulfilling life? Except he didn’t– it wasn’t a failure; his life and death stand as examples of how to live at peace, and how to change the world! Hundreds of people flocked to hear him teach; hundreds more to see him heal the sick and raise the dead. But he never charged a single coin, never demanded accolades or even thanks.

This is the paradox of the Gospels. God’s ways are not our ways. His humiliating death on the cross was necessary for the ultimate triumph of the resurrection, but it was more than that– it was a vindication of justice over injustice and service over selfishness. Good doesn’t always triumph over evil in a power play. God has the power to obliterate every one of his enemies, but more often than not, he causes them to fall by their own arrogance and blind ambition. The Chief Priests, the Roman Soldiers, the agony and torture of death– they were no match for God’s love.

Good Friday showed us that God can ALWAYS make even our most difficult circumstances, even the worst situations, into something VICTORIOUS. Jesus still had to suffer and die, because we will still have to face betrayal, hatred, injustice, unanswered questions, and even taste death. An Easter without Good Friday is a happy ending without the story. Only an omnipotent God could have given us the triumph; only a loving God would have walked the Via Dolorosa to fight in the trenches with us.

March 30, 2018 0

Praying for Peace

A few years ago, I was introduced to a man from South Sudan, who had come to the U.S. for a missions conference. Earlier in the evening, he had shared a report on conditions in his region– all the horrible details you dread hearing–displaced families, homeless refugees, orphaned children, shortages of food, clothing, shelter, blankets, and medicine, constant fear of being attacked by one side or another in the ongoing conflict. Throughout his report, he emphasized the sovereignty of God, and his hope that he and his team could continue to help those most in need. As I got a chance to speak directly to “Robert” *, I told him that I would pray for peace to come to his region. I was shocked when he stopped me. “Please don’t pray for peace,” he told me. “Pray instead that God would give us the resources and the strength to be faithful and to keep helping.”

Then he explained. It wasn’t that he didn’t want peace to come, but he wanted me to pray for whatever God willed for his region. The Kingdom of God, not earthly peace, was his highest priority and his greatest urgency. Because of the circumstances of war, people were desperate. Their world had been turned upside-down, and they were in great need. But war had also opened up opportunities– not only opportunities to help those in need, but opportunities to show the Love of Christ as it had never been known to the people there. The people who were coming to refugee camps were meeting, sometimes for the very first time, people from other villages, other cultures, and other faiths– people they had considered enemies. Suddenly, they were seeing these enemies as fellow sufferers, fellow human beings with the same injuries and losses, needs and longings as themselves. They were also “seeing through” some of the lies they had believed about “the others” in their midst. Their circumstances were desperate, but their biggest need was for hope and help. Help was coming from around the world– United Nations’ agencies, The Red Cross, Doctors Without Borders, and several Christian relief and medical organizations. These groups had been kept out during peacetime and even in the early stages of fighting. Not only were they able to help with immediate relief; they were able to provide medical care for victims of AIDS, and childhood diseases, care that had long been denied. Along with practical help, though, these groups were providing hope– hope to rebuild, hope in the midst of despair and chaos, hope of eternal life and a relationship with God.

“Robert” was not saying that he didn’t long for peace, or that peace would be a bad thing for the people of South Sudan. Of course not. But the greatest need was not for an immediate end to fighting– it was for the kind of peace that only God can bring. As far as I know “Robert” is still working with refugees and displaced families in South Sudan. The work is difficult and often heartbreaking. Resources are stretched, and chaos still haunts the land. But progress is coming– slowly, but surely. Lives are being changed, reclaimed, and renewed. And I pray that he and his team are being strengthened and encouraged even as their circumstances continue to be desperate.

I share this story because I am still learning that Prayer isn’t about what I want or think is best; it isn’t about getting my way, or asking for the easy “fix” or the happy ending. It’s about seeking God’s will, His way, His answer, His timing, and His grace. Suffering, whether we are experiencing it or hearing about it, reminds us that we live in a fallen and dying world. We long for peace. We long for healing. We long for rest and comfort and happiness. But in this world, there will be trouble and injustice, death and disease, pain, suffering, betrayal, and unanswered questions. We don’t understand God’s timing, his plan in allowing innocent people to suffer the cruelties of war or poverty. And if we are living in peace and comfort, it makes us feel guilty and even fearful– why them and not us? When might we face unexpected hardship? So we ask God to remove all the discomforts, the struggles, the pain. It is not wrong to want healing and peace and all the other good things– we should seek justice and mercy and peace and joy. But we also need to recognize that God may choose to bless us in unexpected ways through our hardships and agonies. And he may be calling some of us to take action– to be His hands and feet– to reach out with the resources he has given us to help others. He doesn’t love those others less; he doesn’t love us more– he loves to see us love each other in His name!

God’s ways are not my ways; his timing isn’t the same as mine– it is better. It is perfect. In the end, there will be peace in South Sudan. There will be Peace on Earth. There will be healing and justice, and peace and joy. There will be answers for all the questions, and happy endings. But in the meantime, may God give all of us the strength and resources to help those in need, the faith and discipline to keep going in the midst of chaos, and the wisdom to make peace and spread love wherever and whenever we can.

*Because “Robert” is a Christian worker in an area of intense persecution, his true identity is being protected. Please pray for all those who are risking their lives and livelihoods to live, work, and worship as Christians throughout the world. And be thankful if you live in an area where you risk little or nothing to proclaim the name of Jesus Christ.

March 9, 2018 0

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?

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.

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.

March 7, 2018 0

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.

February 19, 2018 0

Tag: gratitude