In my pursuit of prayer, I have found it helpful to keep a Prayer Journal. One of the reasons is that I can look back and see what prayer concerns and issues I prayed for weeks, months, or even years ago. I also save space in my journal to go back and fill in how God answered those requests, or what progress has been made in those areas of concern. see also: Proactive Prayer Points
The Bible warns us to be very careful about looking back…the most famous example is the tragedy of Lot’s wife (Genesis 19). In looking back, she lost her chance to rebuild a life after the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, and was turned into a pillar of salt. In the book of Exodus, the newly freed Israelites grumbled about their circumstances and looked back with fondness on their lives in Egypt, forgetting their oppression in their homesickness for certain foods (Exodus 16). Spending too much time and energy on the past leaves us with little motivation and energy for the present or future. The past should never become more important to us than moving forward. If we long for the past, if we romanticize it or cling to it, fearing the changes and opportunities to come, we can stagnate, and miss the blessings playing out right before our eyes.
But we should take some time periodically to look back in order to gain perspective. The same Children of Israel who grumbled about leaving Egypt, once they arrived in the Promised Land, were commanded to remember their wandering in the wilderness, and told to teach their children about the past (Deuteronomy 8). Holidays and religious rites were instituted as reminders of the past. But this kind of looking back gives us renewed encouragement, incentive, and momentum to keep going by showing us how far we’ve come, and reminding us of God’s faithfulness.
One of the great benefits of reading through the Bible is that we are reminded of all the times God acted on behalf of His people– from providing for the Israelites in their 40-year desert odyssey, to protecting Christ’s early disciples as they spread the Gospel. God’s faithfulness is demonstrated time and again– for His Glory, and for Our benefit. God was at work then, and He is still at work in our own time! One great old hymn challenges us to “Count (our) blessings– name them one by one. Count (our) many blessings; see what God has done!” It is encouraging and inspiring to call to mind all the times that God has “shown up” in difficult circumstances or protected us from other dire events or losses that we don’t even know about.
I am especially encouraged when I see how God has answered prayer–so often, I’ve forgotten about trials and struggles that have come my way–issues that seemed huge in the moment, but in hindsight look insignificant. Sometimes, God’s answers were immediate and breath-taking. Sometimes, they were subtle and were revealed in several stages. Sometimes, the answers revealed how God was working beyond anything I imagined! Often, the requests reveal how I have grown (or not!) to trust him more or to listen better to those around me.
And, just like that, I also have material to add to today’s prayers– gratitude for prayers answered, hope for new growth, praise for God’s faithfulness, and confession for times I have doubted or looked back in envy or regret.
I love puns– friends from all over the world send me the craziest puns, “punny” images, silly videos, and awful jokes. Except for those that are patently offensive and find their humor at someone else’s expense, I really enjoy them all.
Someone has said that puns are the lowest form of humor, but I disagree. In fact, I often find that puns, like humor in general, can cause us to explore a serious topic in ways we would otherwise avoid. The image above tickled my funny bone, but it also caused me to think. Where is my Joy? Do I bottle it up and hide it down in my cart, or does it bubble up, iridescent and smelling of sunshine (and possibly lemons) from deep down in my heart?
I especially find myself looking for joy in the ordinary tasks of life. I really do not enjoy doing dishes, for example. But I can find joy– not the brand of dish soap, but the real thing!– even in such an ordinary chore. I can find joy as I clean the toilet, as I sort clothes for the wash, as I drive around town to do errands, and as I set aside time to pray for family and friends who are hurting and discouraged.
Prayer is a serious topic, but it shouldn’t be joyless. Even in our troubles, we can be confident that we are loved, cherished, and precious. In our grief and sorrow, we are not overwhelmed (though it often feels as if we are) when we have this kind of joy. It will wash away despair, anger, doubt, and weariness, as it rises up. We pray for so many other things– health, wisdom, forgiveness– we should also pray for Joy. Not the false and fleeting joy of a silly pun, or the veneer of joy that lies and says that “everything is great.” We need the kind of joy that sings through tears, laughs at storms, defies despair, and shakes the rafters!
Many people read about Jesus and conclude that He was a great teacher, but very sober and serious. And the Bible describes Him as a “man of sorrows” and one “acquainted with grief.” (Isaiah 53:3). Yet the Gospels also show Jesus as a man who welcomed children, shared meals with His friends, entered into wedding celebrations, and told His disciples to rejoice in the midst of persecution. Jesus was not a man who took life lightly, but He was a man who felt joy in simple things. He was able to relax in the joyful knowledge that even grief and pain are temporary, and our circumstances do not define our life. And joy is also listed as a fruit of the Spirit (see Galatians 5:22-23–“But the Fruit of the Spirit is Love, Joy Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentleness, and Self-Control. Against such things, there is no law.”
We need the quiet, blessed assurance that God is in His Heaven and even if all is not well with the world, God still has everything well in hand. Such joy, lodged deep in our heart and soul can keep us from buckling under the weight of loss, the exhaustion of stress, and the threat of chaos. It can fill us with peace and contentment, even as we go through ordinary or even dreary days. We need a new “Dawn” of “Joy” (yes, I had to include another pun). We need to pray for joy. We need to cherish it. And we need to pass it on.
Wilt thou love God, as He thee? then digest,
My soul, this wholesome meditation,
How God the Spirit, by angels waited on
In Heaven, doth make His Temple in thy breast.
The Father, having begot a Son most blest,
And still begetting (for he ne’er begun),
Hath deigned to choose thee, by adoption,
Coheir to His glory and sabbath’s endless rest;
As a robbed man which by search doth find
His stol’n stuff sold must lose or buy again,
The Son of glory came down, and was slain,
Us whom He had made, and Satan stol’n, to unbind.
‘Twas much that man was made like God before,
But that God should be made like man, much more.
John Donne, Holy Sonnets 1633, No. 11
In the Garden
1 I come to the garden alone,
While the dew is still on the roses;
And the voice I hear, falling on my ear,
The Son of God discloses.
Refrain:
And He walks with me, and He talks with me,
And He tells me I am His own,
And the joy we share as we tarry there,
None other has ever known.
2 He speaks, and the sound of His voice
Is so sweet the birds hush their singing;
And the melody that He gave to me
Within my heart is ringing. [Refrain]
3 I’d stay in the garden with Him
Tho’ the night around me be falling;
But He bids me go; thro’ the voice of woe,
His voice to me is calling. [Refrain]
God does not have a Facebook or X account; he’s not in Pinterest or Snapchat. He doesn’t post selfies or have a blog. But he is the same God that Adam and Eve walked with in the Garden of Eden; the same God who spoke to Moses as a man speaks to his friend. He is the same God who listened to the impassioned Psalms of King David, and the lamentations of Jeremiah. He is the same God who has inspired awe and fear in the hearts of apostles, poets, philosophers, songwriters, and evangelists over the centuries.
When we come before God, it is tempting to see him through the lens of our own times– we want him to be one of our “peeps”, accessible, someone who will answer a text or voice mail, “like” our post or “follow” us as we babble about our hours and days and show pictures of what we had for dinner or what we looked like heading out to the concert. We want him to be about US, instead of us laying down our lives for HIM.
Media– especially social media, can help or hinder our prayer life. We can access all kinds of helpful tools to focus our prayers, link up with prayer partners and groups, listen to inspiring music or peaceful slide shows for meditation… But more often than not, media becomes a distraction or even a substitution for real, serious, personal communication with God.
God is not our virtual friend; he’s not our “Bruh” or “the man upstairs.” He is the Sovereign Ruler of the Universe– every galaxy created at his command, every particle obedient to his whim. And he has given us the privilege to come before him as his adopted and beloved children to lay our hearts before him and receive his wisdom, forgiveness, strength, and joy. “Liking” your friends’ posts with Bible verses, sending a thumbs up or an emoji when someone puts up a picture of Jesus on their wall–if that’s the sum total of what you call worship, God has another name for it– Idolatry.
That may seem really harsh, but Idolatry is ANYTHING that we are worshiping in place of God himself. There’s a reason we don’t have statues of God the Father in temples and churches, synagogues, and chapels around the world. God warned us thousands of years ago about the dangers of creating substitutes. Even things that are meant to remind us of him can become substitutes for worship. That doesn’t mean that the crucifix necklace or the picture of Jesus knocking at the door are automatically evil– but when we stop reaching out to the real God, and focus on a false image, no matter how lovely or touching, we can fall into idolatry. And the distractions of the digital age have been shown to create isolation and depression, and become impediments among our human relationships.. We don’t have meaningful meditation or intimate conversations online with people at the other end– what makes us think that wireless devices will bring us closer to God?
That doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t use technology to enhance our worship–just don’t make it an entertaining substitute for the real thing. You wouldn’t (or at least I hope you don’t) text and catch up on Twitter while having a face-to-face and heart-to-heart talk with your spouse or child. Give God the honor, the time, and the respect he deserves. You don’t have to live like a stone age hunter to get some alone time with God, but it is a great idea to set aside some time to unplug from media and the noise of this world, and plug into the wonder of meeting with God in the Garden.
Trust and obey,
For there’s no other way
To be happy in Jesus,
But to trust and obey.
It bothered me as a child, the part about “No other way.” It seemed narrow-minded and harsh. Surely, I could be happy in Jesus just doing my own good things and singing his praises. Besides, I did trust him, I followed the Ten Commandments, and the Golden Rule, and I was a nice person. So why did I feel that I was missing something?
In all the years I’ve been a follower of Christ, I have learned the importance of trust and obedience. I can’t truly follow someone I don’t trust. I can learn from them, admire them, even try to act like them, but eventually, I will try to take the lead, or let go and walk down a different path. Similarly, I can’t say that I trust someone if I won’t obey them. If they ask me to do something, and I ignore their request, or re-interpret it, or come up with excuses why I won’t do it, it really boils down to one thing: I don’t trust that their request has any merit.
In a broken world, filled with sin and pride and selfishness, there are many reasons NOT to trust or obey certain people. Abusers, users, sadists and sociopaths abound. Such people may suggest that there is “no other way to be happy..” than to trust them and obey them implicitly. So when God asks us to put our trust in an invisible Godhead, it seems terrible, final, and harsh. Is God demanding abject humiliation and mindless adherence to his law? Will we lose ourselves in drudgery and joyless obedience to a harsh taskmaster on the whimsical hope of a happy afterlife?
That is a view that is often peddled, and ridiculed. But I think a closer look at the Bible gives us a different picture. Yes, God is harsh and wrathful against sin and sinners–but so am I! I find myself getting furious over injustices and pain caused by sin in the world–I can only imagine how angry God must be to see the way we lie and cheat and abuse each other, and the untold painful consequences he has witnessed through the years. The only thing holding him back is the power of his Mercy. His anger is swallowed up in patient and unfathomable love that is ready to forgive even the worst offenders. And God’s wrath is pure, unlike mine, which is selective against those who have hurt me, but wants to smooth over my own sins. His love is even more pure– he loves even the worst sinner, and even the most unloveable people (in my flawed estimation). He is unwilling that ANYONE stay lost and enslaved by their sinful past.
Think about it– Jesus, who knew God best (being part of the Godhead himself) never painted his Father as a brute who demanded people to become “useful idiots” just to stroke his ego. He didn’t talk about a harsh and unforgiving God who “hated” sinners. Instead, Jesus healed the sick, raised the dead, gave sight to the blind, and spoke to sinners and outcasts as though they were more important than the religious elite…because that was his heart! But more than that, Jesus showed us what it meant to “Trust and Obey”–he didn’t seek fame or fortune for himself, he never owned a home, or sought public office, and he never ran arouns worrying and fretting that God would leave him in the lurch. Even under the worst circumstances leading up to his arrest and crucifixion, Jesus only spent one hour worrying about what was to come, and in that hour of prayer, he found the peace and strength to say, “not my will, but yours be done (Luke 22:42). In his ministry, he humbly walked the byways and taught those who willingly followed him. He healed and encouraged and saved those who came to him; those who trusted him as he trusted his Father. He did not pat on the back those who claimed to follow his Father, but wouldn’t trust him. Nor did he reward those who claimed to obey God, but hated their neighbors, justified their own self-righteousness, and changed God’s laws to feather their own lifestyles.
Does “Trust and Obey” mean that we might lose our status, our wealth, our comfort, and our lives? Not necessarily, but there is no promise that we will be richer, or healthier, or more popular for following Jesus. He didn’t come to make us comfortable or “better than” someone else. In fact, he warned us that while we are in this world, we will have troubles and sorrows (with or without our faith!) So how can we be “happy in Jesus” if we end up homeless, hated, or sick? How can we talk about being happy in Jesus under awful circumstances? Is this just some brainwashing tactic to make us forget how miserable we are? What’s the “payoff” of Trust and Obey?
The answer involves a choice–Do I trust Jesus when he says that he came to give us, not just life, not even just eternal life, but abundant life? If Jesus isn’t trustworthy; if I am not sure that he can or will make my life MORE than I ever dreamed, MORE than I imagine–even in the midst of otherwise difficult circumstances–then I will never be happy in Jesus. But if I DO trust Jesus, then I can be happy, not because of my circumstances, but because I can trust all that he says about them, and that his grace is more than sufficient to see me through. And I know that whatever trials I may be going through can be turned to good because I trust his power and his goodness.
And true obedience can only follow true trust. If I say that God’s rules aren’t important, or don’t apply to me, then I’m really saying I don’t trust him to know what’s best, or that I don’t trust that He is really Good. The temporary happiness that comes from following my way (even if I think I’m doing it for the right reasons) will give way to resentment against God. How dare he stop me from that one thing that brings me joy– how dare he question my “needs” or call my actions “wrong”. How dare he suggest that His way could be better or more abundant than what I know–even if I suspect that what I know and experience isn’t always the best it could be.
No– the longer I follow Jesus, the more that old song rings true, and not harsh or condemning, but full of wisdom and promise. It is with the faith of a child (not stupid or simplistic, but hopeful and eager), and humble (not abject or reluctant) obedience that we find happiness in Jesus, peace for our souls, and strength to face the trying circumstances of this life.
I Thessalonians 5:16-17: “Be joyful always; pray continually”(NIV)
“Rejoice evermore; pray without ceasing” (KJV)
Two verses; five simple words, but they are among the most misunderstood and misused phrases in the New Testament. Critics of the faith use these verses to paint Christianity as a religion of unrealistic fanatics– “shiny-happy,” posturing adherents who do nothing but offer empty words to a deaf and apathetic deity from sunup to sundown. Christians use them to bash or shame others. Feeling depressed or worried? “Tsk, tsk– we’re supposed to be joyful always!” Struggling with circumstances or doubts? “You’re not praying enough (or not praying the right way, or with the right motive, or not really praying at all).” I’m not sure how saints like this actually live when they’re not busy judging others, but I think these verses are important enough for a closer look and more careful treatment.
Both convey the idea of constant engagement, but common sense tells us that they don’t mean 24/7/365…you cannot express joy or recite prayers in your sleep, and God isn’t asking Christians to go without sleep, or to give up all other normal activities. Nor does he ask us to be false or insincere in either pursuit. We are called to rejoice with those who rejoice, but also to weep (or mourn) with those who weep. We are allowed to be mournful, to be remorseful, to be angry, even. We are called to pray, but not to the exclusion of other activities– eating, talking, working– prayer is no excuse to stop engaging with other people, or to skip out on work that needs to be done. There is a similar idea in the Boy Scout motto– “Always be prepared.” This doesn’t mean staying awake every night, or waiting on edge throughout each day, always expecting an imminent crisis. But it does mean that one should be vigilant, attentive to events and circumstances, and have an attitude of preparedness. I would suggest that we do the same with prayer and joyfulness.
These reminders come at the end of a letter that the Apostle Paul wrote to the Thessalonians, who were mostly new converts–very eager to learn all about Christ and how to follow him. They were hard-working (mostly), and generous, and conscientious. But they were falling into two bad habits–worry, and comparison. In this context, the reminders take on a different shade of meaning. If we are prone to worry, it robs us of all joy. It saps our strength, our enthusiasm, our purpose; it leaves us exhausted and unable to lift our faces, let alone lift up others around us. Similarly, if we are comparing our performance with others, we are wasting energy, losing our focus, and we become disillusioned and ineffective.
Always be joyful–joyful–not giddy or silly or amused, but filled with joy– ready to celebrate small victories, cherish small moments, laugh off small defeats and set-backs, and ready to grit your teeth against the suffering and the darkness, because you know how the story ends. We don’t need to be simplistic or naive to be optimistic and joyful– we just need to plug into the source of joy. And that joy becomes our strength in the midst of trouble and our anchor in the midst of chaos.
Pray without ceasing–be perpetually prepared to turn worry into prayer, triumph into praise, pain into petition, doubt into dialogue, heartbreak into heart-cry, gladness into gratitude, and remorse into restoration. Practice making time for prayer, but don’t limit your time with God to a penciled-in appointment with an agenda and a timer.
Don’t skim these short verses; don’t miss out on the blessings they bring. The practice of “always” in this life is but a shadow of what we will experience of Joy and Communion with God throughout eternity.
Rejoice! Enter His presence with gladness– come early, come often. Sit and stay awhile! Make yourself at home! Now– arise, go forth, and conquer!
My mother was fond of using quotes and pithy sayings–“Pretty is as pretty does”, “You’re never fully dressed without a smile”, “Don’t judge a person until you’ve walked a mile in their shoes.” But one of the sayings that always bothered me was, “Laugh, and the world laughs with you; cry, and you cry alone.”
As a child and a young adult, I dreamed of a family— laughing with my husband and children around the dinner table; tucking in sweet-smelling, freshly bathed toddlers– I knew it wouldn’t always be dreamy like that, but I knew those precious moments would be worth the pains and frustrations that came with them.
Except they didn’t. The years passed. I worked hard, I dated occasionally, and I waited. I loved my work as a teacher, and later as a youth services librarian. Many of my friends married; my siblings married and had children. I was surrounded most days with amazing, talented, infuriating, inspiring, adorable, mostly happy, and sometimes moody teens and children. Other people’s children. And I felt guilty, frustrated, and angry. I wanted marriage. I wanted my own children. Well-meaning people kept setting me up on dates or suggesting pen pals, dating services, other churches to visit (“they have such a great program for singles…”), moving to a different town or bigger city. Some even suggested that I wasn’t trying hard enough–I needed a make-over, a new wardrobe, a new strategy. I needed to be more assertive with men, or less independent, or more feminine. I needed to be less picky. Other suggestions were even harsher–I wasn’t mature enough; God needed to “grow me up” before I would be ready for marriage.
In my mid-thirties, just as my “clock” was ticking louder and more insistent, I received an awful blow. “Polycystic ovary syndrome” meant that I had certain symptoms (underactive thyroid, facial hair, a greater risk of ovarian cysts, ovarian cancer, and heart disease) and certain irregularities, mood swings, etc. associated with my monthly cycle. But it also meant that my dream of having children was unlikely ever to be anything but a dream. Even if I had married young; even if I married within a week and started hormone therapy or invitro, my chances of conceiving and carrying to full term were essentially nil. I was stunned. I was numb for several hours, and then I cried.
And I cried alone. I wasn’t always crying; I read a lot, and watched a lot of TV and movies, sang along with my favorite CDs, danced around my living room like no one was watching (after all, no one was watching!), and, sometimes, I prayed. But I cried a lot, too. And I prayed through the tears. My prayers were sometimes prayers of anger, or confusion, questioning God’s love, his timing, his purpose. All those years of praying, asking God for a husband and children– had he been laughing at my pain? He knew I couldn’t have children– why had he allowed me to hope for so many years?
But long before I knew that I was barren; long before I had fully formulated my dream of the family I would never have, God had a plan for my good. For every tear I shed, he was right there with me– even when I couldn’t feel him there; even when I raged at him. I had a dream– it was a good dream, but it was a dream. And God’s plans are better than my dreams. ALWAYS. His plans are for our good–but not always for our pleasure.
Sometimes I still cry at night for the children I never had. But when I finish crying, I thank God. Not because of those missing children, but because out of that pain has come compassion– for other women who cry similar tears. Tears for children lost or never born; tears for children they chose to give up, or children who were taken. I thank God because of the many experiences I ended up gaining as a single woman– opportunities to travel, to pursue interests and develop skills. How many more opportunities might I have taken had I trusted God more than my dreams earlier and more fully?
And I thank God because of what he has given–nieces and nephews, grand-nieces and grand-nephews, former students and patrons who are still in touch and who still enrich my life. Most of all, I thank God for the privilege of leaving my tears to join my husband (a man who pursued me even as I was ready to give up on my dream of being a wife–I became a bride at 46!), my step-children, and our grandchildren; as well as a new set of wonderful siblings, nieces, nephews, and great-nephews (we’re still waiting for great-nieces on that side of the family).
Even if I never had the “happy ending” of a husband and family, I would still be grateful to my very good Father. And I will continue to pray through the tears when they come.
I like to know things–I like to solve puzzles, figure out mysteries, learn trivial facts. I want answers. So when I go before God in prayer, I often ask questions. Why is this person suffering? When will their suffering end, and how? Where were you in this disaster (as though God had stepped out for a minute and wasn’t aware of what happened)?
God stays silent.
I can grow frustrated in the silence or I can learn to trust. That doesn’t mean that I no longer want answers; just that I am willing to wait on God’s sovereign timing. It also means that I am need to more about God’s nature–God doesn’t keep secrets or withhold knowledge because He wants to torment me, or frustrate me, or play some cosmic mind game (though some people accuse Him of doing just that). God withholds full disclosure of His plans, His reasoning, and His nature out of love and compassion. Suppose I could see into the future, even give out warnings, but had no power to stop disaster from coming. Not only would I be haunted by the disaster itself, but by the full knowledge of its coming. Suppose I could see a miracle in advance; know when and how it would unfold. There would still be joy, but it would be muted by the foreknowledge– of course there would be a happy ending; of course there would be a miracle– I saw it all from afar off.
The Apostle Paul touches on this in 1 Corinthians, chapter 13. This is commonly known as the “Love Chapter”, and the first half is frequently quoted at weddings and church sermons. But the end of the chapter is a wonderful message of hope and faith, ending with Paul’s triumphant statement about all three:
1 Corinthians 13:8-13English Standard Version (ESV)
8 Love never ends. As for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away.9 For we know in part and we prophesy in part,10 but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away.11 When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways.12 For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known.
13 So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.
God loves us with a perfect love. Because of that, I can trust Him, and have hope in the midst of my questioning. So when I pray with questions, I can know that God has “filed them away”– He is fully aware of my situation, questions and all, and He is fully faithful to answer them all in His perfect wisdom and timing. Someday, I will know– not only all that I don’t know now, but why I had to wait.
God will provide full disclosure. with compassion, love, and wisdom that only He can give.
November 10th marks the 50th anniversary of the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, an iron freighter that sank in Lake Superior. The gale-force winds tossed the ship (carrying over 26,000 tons of iron) in waves of over 35 feet. All 29 sailors aboard the ship were lost. The event has been memorialized in song and stories, and in at least one museum display at Whitefish Point Michigan, near where the wreck occurred. The bell tolled 29 times, once for every life lost in the storm. Fifty years later, families are still haunted by the tragedy– a continuing reminder of the fragility of life, and the power and destructive force of winds and waves.
Some days, the hits just keep coming– an unexpected expense, a misunderstanding at work, a fender-bender during the commute, a plumbing nightmare, a migraine, the phone call with bad news. Each new pain rolls over us, throwing us off balance, and trying to drag us under like a storm-tossed ship.
“Even so, it is well with my soul.” The story of this favorite hymn has been told many times, but it bears repeating. ( It Is Will With My Soul. wikipedia.org ) The author of these words had lost everything– his only son had died; shortly afterward, he lost almost all his money and property in the Great Chicago Fire of 1871. A friend, knowing of his troubles invited him to bring his family to England for an evangelistic campaign. Mr. Spafford (the above-mentioned author of the hymn) had to stay behind and sent his wife and four daughters ahead. Their ship, the Ville du Havre, was struck by another vessel and sank. All four of the daughters were drowned, and only his wife survived to send him news of the tragedy. As he made the heartbreaking voyage to rejoin his wife, he passed the place where his daughters had most likely gone down. At that moment, Mr. Spafford felt a welling of peace and hope beyond human understanding, which led him to pen the words that have given comfort to so many in the years since:
When peace, like a river, attendeth my way, When sorrows like sea billows roll; Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say, It is well, it is well with my soul.
Nothing can prepare us for the sorrows that sweep over us at unexpected moments. Nothing can stop them, and though we know they will come, no one knows how high they will rise, or when they will crest and break around us. No one except the one who set the boundaries of the sea, the one who has walked on its waters, and the one who can calm the storm.
God doesn’t remove the sorrows or tragedies from our life or prevent them from washing around and over us. But for those who trust in him, there is a promise that we will not be consumed. We may be in a storm-tossed boat in the middle of a raging sea, but at our faintest cry, Jesus will walk on choppy waves to be by our side and bring comfort. He will teach us to be in awe of him as he commands the winds and waves to obey him. He will teach us to trust him in the good times and the bad. He will teach us to say, “It is well with my soul!”
35 Who can separate us from the love of Christ? Can affliction or anguish or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? 36 As it is written: Because of You we are being put to death all day long; we are counted as sheep to be slaughtered.[a] 37 No, in all these things we are more than victorious through Him who loved us. 38 For I am persuaded that not even death or life, angels or rulers, things present or things to come, hostile powers, 39 height or depth, or any other created thing will have the power to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord! Romans 8:35-39 (HCSB)
So often when I pray, I do so in isolation, and I think of it as a solitary activity. I am communicating with God– often silently–it is a private conversation. Or is it?
At any given moment on any given day, millions of prayers are ascending to Heaven. Consider the arithmetic of prayer– millions of prayers, millions of pray-ers, and God is part of each one–twice the number of participants. But God is triune– so now there are four participants in every “personal” prayer, and four participants for every one in a group prayer! It’s mind-blowing to think of all the spiritual investment that is happening through prayer at this very instant around the world. And in heaven? Our prayers ascend; God likens our prayers to incense– a pleasing aroma. If I light a scented candle, or burn incense, the aroma is not personal– it permeates the air, penetrates my clothing, clings to my hair, lingers and touches on all who are nearby. This doesn’t diminish the intimacy of prayer, but transcends it, and transforms it. God is relational– from the intimacy of private prayer to the glory of his kingdom– he wants us to belong, to share, and to love. Love doesn’t happen in a vacuum. It is not a solitary activity, nor one in which anyone is “just a number.”
I think we are often deceived and intimidated by numbers and statistics. We sometimes feel very small and powerless and alone. We measure our prayers by their duration or the number of our words, or how small our perceived influence. We pray alone or in a tiny group, or seem to get swallowed in a crowd, and we think our prayers travel a linear path to God’s ears and they are ended. May our eyes be opened to the reality that we are never alone, never helpless, and never unimportant to God–that our prayers, like incense, linger, radiate, and echo as they ascend.
God uses the small and humble things in life to confound those who think they are wise and powerful and important. He is the God who changes our suffering into sufficiency, and our abiding into abundance. He multiplies our faith, and increases our joy; he divides our sorrows and cancels out our sin. He hears our every sigh. He dries our every tear. He knows our every thought. He inhabits the praises of his people– let that sink in as we pray today.
Several years ago, it became incredibly fashionable (literally) to wear t-shirts, necklaces, and especially bracelets with the four letters, WWJD– which stood for “What Would Jesus Do?” This was supposed to serve as a reminder that the wearer was an ambassador of the Kingdom of God, and was supposed to be a follower of Jesus, and thus should act in accordance with what Jesus would do in any given situation. Stuck in traffic–What would Jesus do? Presumably, we would not lose his temper, honk and scream obscenities, or rudely try to cut or push others off the road. Tempted by the scantily clad actors and actresses in a new R-rated movie– What would Jesus do? Presumably, he would not attend R-rated movies filled with sexual situations in the first place, or, finding himself tempted, he would leave the movie.
I think the intention was good in the beginning– even scriptural in a sense. The Children of Israel were commanded, in Deuteronomy 6: 8 to “tie them (God’s commandments, laws, and decrees) as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them on the door frames of your houses and on your gates.” Throughout the Bible, the patriarchs, prophets, Jesus, and the apostles, often spoke of keeping God’s Word in our hearts and on our minds as we go through our daily routines. This short reminder should help us do just that– redirect our thoughts to the One we are to follow. As far as it achieved that goal, it was a good thing.
The problem is that it didn’t work that way for most people. The jewelry or the t-shirt didn’t serve as a reminder to the wearer, but as a symbol to everyone else. “Hey, look at me! I’m wearing a fashionable accessory with a cryptic message that lets you know that my thoughts and actions represent Jesus here on earth!” Ironically, Jesus would have been the last person to wear such an item– not only because he wouldn’t have to ask the question (BEING Jesus, and all), but because his focus was on others–Jesus didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, or his wrist, and he didn’t call attention to his own righteousness. Instead, he spoke to outcasts, and touched lepers. He acted in accordance with God’s wishes, not because he had decided what he thought God would want him to do, but because he knew who God wanted him to become.
One of the worst casualties of the WWJD craze is that many people substituted their own wisdom for a study of God’s word– in other words, they imagined what Jesus would (or might) have done, instead of learning and following what he DID. Of course, Jesus was never stuck in a traffic jam. But he did face demands on his time, and stressful situations. He was never tempted by movies or internet porn, but he was surrounded by a culture that had “religious” “temple” prostitutes, along with sexual immorality not that different from what we see today. The Bible doesn’t give us a picture of Jesus planning and executing a strategy for specific temptations– it DOES give us specific examples of people over a long period of time who failed or triumphed over temptations, big and small, and of people who turned to God for strength to overcome temptation and grace when they had fallen. It also gives us a picture of Jesus living a life that was perfectly pleasing to God– including a life of prayer.
What would Jesus pray? Look at John 17. Look at Luke 11:1-4 or Luke 22: 39-48. Look at Mark 14: 32-42. There are many examples of Jesus’ prayers– prayers that pour out his heart to his Father– in faith, in pain, in grief, and in hope. In fact, it would be appropriate to say in answer to the question, “What would Jesus do?”– Jesus would take it to God in Prayer! Look at the way He taught His disciples to pray:
“And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you. And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him. “This, then, is how you should pray:
“‘Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name, your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us today our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one. For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins. (Matthew 6:5-15 NIV)
Jesus did not ask the Father to give His disciples a blueprint of “Holy” activities or attitudes. He asked for fundamentals– that God’s Kingdom would come; that God would meet our daily needs; that God would forgive us as we forgive others; and that God would steer us away from temptations and evil. For everything else, Jesus directed His disciples to DO what He did, not ask what He would do. Reach out to those who are needy and hurting with love and practical help. Forgive. Tell the Truth. Worship God above all else, and go to Him in prayer.
Jesus didn’t come to earth and live his life to make us great, or successful, powerful or popular by the world’s standards. He came to seek and to save those who were lost. He asks us to do the same– not in our own strength or success, but in the overflow of the grace and power he has poured into us. T-shirts and jewelry are nice, but Jesus used his life–his time, his love, his talents, his words and his actions in accordance with God’s will and God’s wise commands to bring people to himself. Then he did what none of us could do– he fulfilled God’s law, becoming the perfect sacrifice for our sins, and conquering Sin and death. What would Jesus do? He DID IT! It is FINISHED! Our part is not to do what only God can do, but to what he has asked of us and trust him to do the rest.
This is also true in our pursuit of prayer. I often get side-tracked in wondering if my prayers match up to what Jesus might have prayed in the same situation– and that shouldn’t be my immediate focus. Prayer is, as I have to keep reminding myself, a pursuit. It is a process and a journey, and an ongoing, deepening conversation with the one who loves me best. And it is not a one-sided conversation– God answers my prayers, not just by meeting immediate needs or changing circumstances. He speaks through his law, through the Psalms and prophets, through the Gospels and the Epistles, and through the godly wisdom of friends and counselors and ministers of his Grace. And in doing so, he teaches me to pray.
May I stop worrying so much about the length or the style or the “worthiness” of my prayers. May I instead listen, and learn, and continue the pursuit.
Pursuing Prayer 