“Thy Will Be Done”

At the age of 14 months, just after I had learned to walk well, and had learned to say “Mama” and “Da-da”, I became very ill.  Our doctor was baffled– I was tired and weak, I was losing weight, but I wasn’t carrying a fever.  It wasn’t any of the “usual” culprits– we did find out I was allergic to penicillin, but other antibiotics had no effect.  We tried a different doctor– he was also stumped, and all the while, I got weaker.  My desperate parents prayed for healing as the weeks went on.  I was too little to even describe any symptoms– I whimpered and slept; I ate very little, and became too weak to walk.

God was listening to my parents’ prayers, even though the situation seemed impossible and tragic, and God seemed silent and distant.  My mother, in the years since this incident, has shared with me the “breakthrough” moment for her– that moment when her prayers changed from “heal my little girl”, to “thy will be done.”  Not immediately, but shortly after that, the new doctor was inspired to look for another cause.  After some blood tests, he determined that my body wasn’t absorbing and processing protein.  As soon as I began a regimen of protein booster shots, my health began to improve.  I was still sickly as a child; I had immunity issues, and I was small for my age, but I was out of grave danger.  I had to relearn how to walk, and my return to solid foods (especially meat) was a gradual one.  I have no actual memory of these events, but I learned a valuable lesson about prayer.

Praying hands

When we pray “Thy will be done,” we sometimes think it is “our” will vs. “God’s” will… that God’s will is always opposed to ours; that it will lead to us losing whatever it is we are holding on to.  That may be the case, sometimes.  We grapple with God’s will, struggling and wrestling, like Jacob, until we are forced to give in.  Some of us limp our way to the altar of prayer.  But God’s will is not set in relation to ours– His will is His own.  It is higher than ours.  It is perfect and complete.  That doesn’t always make it pleasant, comfortable, or easy.  In my family’s case, it meant months of trips to get shots– every day for the first few weeks; every week for months afterwards, and every month after that until the time I started Kindergarten (a year later than I might have if I had been healthier).  For many, “Thy will be done,” means saying goodbye to a loved one.  Sometimes it means losing a limb, or letting go of a cherished dream.  But what we see; what we experience; these are mere moments in God’s plan for our eternity.  Like the booster shots I had to have as a child, they bring a momentary sting, and the fear of them may loom large, but in God’s plan, they bring us the opportunity for life and health and ultimately, triumph.

Sometimes God’s will means walking through the fire, or walking through the valley of the shadow of death.  Long before my birth and health scare, my mother had lost twins, and been a divorced mother of a young son.  She had already faced death and heartbreak and hardship.  After this incident, she would be hurt by my brother’s teenage rebellion, face depression, and go through health issues with my father before his death; but she would also gain another daughter and live to see grandchildren and great-grandchildren who brought her joy.  In my own life, I have faced the shattered dream of wanting children of my own. I struggled for years with singleness, when I wanted to be married and have a family.  But God’s will was for me to learn patience, compassion, and empathy for others who hurt in these areas.  And he has blessed me with a family I would never have imagined–not only the husband, step-children, and grandkids, but all the students and children I met through my careers in education and public libraries.

It is natural and easy to pray for what our will, our feelings, or our intuition tells us is best– healing for the sick (immediate healing is even better), success for our ventures and those of our families and friends, safety in travels and daily routines, prosperity, and happiness.  It is not wrong to want these things.  But it is better by far to remember that God is sovereign and good.  Giving him complete control over our situations is not weakness; it is not “giving up”.  Instead, it is investing our future– putting it in the hands of the one who holds tomorrow, and all of eternity!  It is trusting the one who is most trustworthy to make the most of our hours and days, our treasures and our dreams.

Even Jesus taught His disciples to pray “thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven” (Matthew 6:10b). But He didn’t just teach that phrase to His disciples– He prayed it Himself in the Garden of Gethsemane. “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done” (Luke 22:42). Jesus knew he would face humiliation, torture, and death. He knew that He would take on the punishment for all the sins of the world– punishment He did not deserve– and that He would be subject to the full wrath of God. In His humanness, He was anguished to the point of sweating drops of blood. Yet He chose to pray, “Thy will be done.”

I have never been in that kind of anguish– even when I was so very sick or depressed about seemingly broken dreams. But I still find it difficult to fully surrender to God’s sovereign will when the future is in doubt, and when the present looks overwhelming. But growth and victory come when I let God take the reins and guide me through the valleys and wilderness walkways of life. His will is mysterious and sometimes scary, but He is always faithful. And I know that from experience.

Praying for Rain

Spring has arrived.  In my part of the world, that means many people are hoping for milder temperatures, gentle spring rains, and new growth after the cold and colorless winter.  Most of us love the idea of spring, and the promise it brings.  Those soft days of baby birds chirping outside our window as the gentle raindrops roll down; of newly budded trees and flowers opening to the warmth of the sun; the smell of freshly turned earth in gardens and fields; the bleating of lambs and the down of chicks and ducklings; children squealing in delight as they leap from puddle to puddle in their colorful boots; the world slowly waking up in a thousand shades of green..

rain-boots-umbrella-wet.jpg

Of course, it never seems to go exactly like that– sometimes the weather this time of year can be volatile– tornadoes, freak ice storms, sudden heat waves, flooding, or a mix of all of the above in a matter of hours!  Chirping birds can’t be heard over the roar of traffic and blaring car radios.  The smell of exhaust chokes out the aroma of rich dirt or fresh flowers.  The same rain that brings puddles also brings mud and run-off and potholes in the road.  And, possibly because we have such expectations of spring, it seems to fly by and disappear almost before it comes.  There is a joke that sort of summarizes the unpredictable nature of spring around here– “I love spring in Michigan (or insert another Midwest state)– last year it was on a Wednesday!”

Like the season of spring, prayer holds promise and expectation.  God promises to hear our prayers, but sometimes our expectations are not in line with God’s answers.  Farmers pray for dry days to plow and plant, and rain to come before and after to soften the earth and water the seeds.  Little League players want the rain to come on Monday, and the diamond to be dry by Saturday.  School children want the rain to come overnight, so the playground will be dry for recess.  Commuters want the rain to fall after they drive to work and before they have to drive home.  All may pray for rain, but not in the same way, for the same reasons, or at the same time.

pexels-photo-890600.jpeg

We all want the promise of easy growth, gentle weather, and comfortable routine.  But God’s plan may involve blustery days and muddy driveways.  God will bring rain, and sunshine, in his time.  He will calm the storms and blow away the clouds.  He will send us flowers and rainbows, and perfect days for flying kites and playing baseball.  And maybe, this year, it will be on Wednesday!  But the stormy days remind us of three things:

  • God is with us through the storm.  He is with us when the rains come; and when the clouds roll back to reveal the rainbow.  He knows the pain you feel when you view the storm damage and assess the loss.  Even as the seasons change, he has promised to be with us always
  • God is stronger than our storms.  His ways are wiser than ours, and his plans are better.  We may be drenched and covered in mud when we expected to be dry and comfortable, but the race isn’t finished yet.  We may fall down, but we’re not out!  He can give us the resources and the power to rebuild, renew, and start over.  No matter how short (or long) our season of storms, it is only a season– it will pass.  Just as winter gave way to spring, spring leads to summer–sometimes overnight; sometimes in fits and starts.
  • God is eternal.  Storms and seasons are local and temporary.  I may be experiencing spring in Michigan, but others are experiencing rainy season in India, or “fall” in New Zealand.  It can be sunny here, and snowing in Minnesota, and raining at my cousin’s house in Alabama.  And when I am praying for rain, someone close by is praying for sunshine.  But someday, and for all eternity, God will be our source of light– there will be no need for storms and seasons, no need to pray for rain.

crocus-flower-spring-buhen-53595.jpeg

Jephthah or Jabez?

There are many great examples of prayer throughout the Bible, but there are two that are often used out of context and applied wrongly.  One is found in the book of the Judges; the other in the Chronicles.

Jephthah was a mighty warrior– the son of a mighty warrior and a prostitute.  He had several half-brothers, but they wanted nothing to do with him.  He was an outcast for much of his life, but when things got tough, the people of the region changed their tune and begged him to be their leader and help deliver them from the oppressive Ammonites.   Before going into battle, Jephthah prayed, and made a tragic vow.  In fact, his vow has become a model of what NOT to do in approaching God.

pexels-photo-415380.jpeg
Judges 11:30-31 New American Standard Bible (NASB)
30 Jephthah made a vow to the Lord and said, “If You will indeed give the sons of Ammon into my hand, 31 then it shall be that whatever comes out of the doors of my house to meet me when I return in peace from the sons of Ammon, it shall be the Lord’s, and I will offer it up as a burnt offering.”

Upon returning from his success in battle, who should come out of the door of his house, but his only daughter, singing and dancing in celebration of her father’s victory!  Having made such a rash vow, Jephthah now has to fulfill it, and sacrifices his only child on the altar.

Many people read this passage of scripture and are shocked– how could God be so cruel?  Why didn’t he stop Jephthah from making such a rash vow?  How could he hold Jephthah to such a vow?  Doesn’t this prove that God is either clueless or deliberately cruel?  Either God knew that the tragedy would happen, and failed to prevent it, or he had no idea  of the outcome.

But I think this is a misreading of events and a misrepresentation of God.  Just before Jephthah makes his vow, the text states that “the Spirit of the Lord came upon Jephthah.  He crossed Gilead and Manasseh, passed through Mizpah of Gilead, and from there he advanced upon the Ammonites.”  People make note of the first part of verse 29, that the Spirit of the Lord came upon Jephthah prior to his making the rash vow.  But we should note that God’s Spirit did not require Jephthah to make ANY vow.   Jephthah’s vow was rash and ill-considered– these are not attributes of God or of His Spirit.  And God’s Spirit came upon Jephthah before he crossed his own native territory– territory he had fled early in life.  In crossing back through lands that now welcomed him after making him feel unwanted and ashamed, Jephthah gets cocky.  His vow is not about saving his nation from harm and oppression, or about bringing God glory.  It is about himself.  He mentions himself five times; his enemies, God, and his sacrifice, each twice; Israel never. 

Jephthah had an incredible opportunity, not only to save his nation, but to redeem his reputation and become a leader of might and integrity.  Instead, he is remembered for his rash vow.  I believe that God could have stopped Jephthah from making such a vow; and God could have kept his daughter from coming out of the house that day of her father’s return.  But I don’t believe it was cruelty that prevented him from acting.  I believe God is both omnipotent and good.  Jephthah learned the hard way that his rash self-promotion had disastrous consequences.  His daughter, who was innocent, could have berated her father, or cursed God– instead, she honored them both in a way that reflected her culture and teaching.  We are given a shocking reminder not to play games with our unknown future.  God does not keep us from our own folly, nor from its consequences, when we fail to seek His wisdom above our own pride.

In contrast, we see another prayer in 1 Chronicles:

1 Chronicles 4:9-10 New American Standard Bible (NASB)
Jabez was more honorable than his brothers, and his mother named him Jabez saying, “Because I bore him with pain.” 10 Now Jabez called on the God of Israel, saying, “Oh that You would bless me indeed and enlarge my border, and that Your hand might be with me, and that You would keep me from harm that it may not pain me!” And God granted him what he requested.

Once again, this prayer is sometimes taken out of context and misused to suggest that God is like a genie in a bottle, and that a pain-free life and expanded riches are ours just for the asking.  If we pray the prayer of Jabez, and we don’t see an immediate change in our circumstances, we sometimes question God’s goodness and His provision– doesn’t He care about our needs?  Doesn’t he hear our prayer?

Jabez, unlike Jephthah above, is described as honorable.  His prayer is more balanced and conscious of God’s sovereignty.  Jabez mentions himself five times, just like Jephthah; but he mentions God three times in supplication– asking God to be with him, help him, and bless him, rather than vowing what he can do for God if God grants him victory.    Notice also the context of the preceding verse.  His prayer is partly asking God to remove the sting and curse of his name, which meant “pain.”  He is not asking for enormous wealth or power, so much as asking for God’s presence and blessing.  There is a subtle, but important difference here.  Jephthah is playing at making a deal with God– If you grant me a victory, I will make it up to you by offering whatever comes out of my house.  Jephthah is asking for God’s help, but he is also vowing to give God “whatever comes out of the doors of MY house” (emphasis added). If a rat had come scurrying out, would Jabez have offered that? If it was a chicken or a lizard, or a lame sheep? And “whatever” came out of Jephthah’s house already belonged to God, and came from the hand of God, didn’t it?

pexels-photo-156151.jpeg

Jabez comes with nothing and asks God to be his portion and protection.  He makes no bargain with God contingent on God’s answer.  There is nothing in this prayer that assumes God’s riches will be his or that God owes him anything; only the faith that God is able to bless him, and that God, in his goodness can keep him from harm.

Jephthah, or Jabez?  Two examples…two very different outcomes.  May we have the wisdom not to confuse the two, or lose the lessons they teach.

Coming Out of the Closet

For anyone who is reading this expecting a big announcement or a shocking confession– please don’t read too much into the title…this is a blog about a lifestyle of prayer, not about gender identity or sexual orientation.  I want to talk about the benefits of communal prayer as opposed to prayer that is deeply personal, and takes place in isolation.

There is a time and place for solitary meditation and prayer, and it should become our habit and practice to meet with God daily.  But we are told that we should also meet with and interact with others– and this includes sharing our prayer life.  For many years, I was one of the “lone rangers.”  I rarely met with others specifically to pray or even share prayer concerns.  I would get notices on FB or e-mail, or in the church’s weekly newsletter, but it wasn’t the same.  Just as God wants to hear our hearts and share communication and communion with us, he wants us to share closeness with others.

gracelady

Why isn’t it enough to just go into the closet (or other quiet space) to pray?  What are the benefits of praying with a small group?  Here are some:

  • We need social interaction– FACE-TO-FACE interaction.  God did not create us to live in isolation. We need to have eye contact, hear inflections and tones of voice from others, and to have others listen to ours.  We need to share more than just stories on a screen– we need to share laughter, tears, and common ground.  We make deeper friendships when we share concerns (not gossip), struggles, and triumphs (not bragging).  And we can share burdens, recipes!, helpful tips, jokes, and more
  • Meeting with others helps us keep our perspective–when we are alone, our problems become bigger; our joys fade, and our talents waste away.  Meeting together helps shrink our worry and pride, ignite our hope, and drive our confidence.  It also opens up our world to the experiences and concerns of others and teaches us about differences and commonalities
  • Our faith is strengthened to hear from others who are “in the same” place in their walk; it encourages us to hear from others who have been “through the fire”; it reminds us to be grateful, and gives us an opportunity to build someone up if we have been in their shoes; and it amazes us to hear again what a mighty God we serve, and how he has been faithful
  • Communal prayer creates a time to break us out of our routine– whether that routine is zooming or “glooming”– we need to mix things up and get out of our rut
  • God commands us to meet together, to live in unity, and to lift each other up

Can you think of other benefits?  Are you in the habit of praying with others?  If not, you may be wondering– how do I find others?  What are the ground rules (if any)?  Are there issues I should be aware of?

Once again, I can list a few that come to mind or that have arisen from experience:

To find others:

  • Join an existing group– a Bible study group that includes prayer time; a weekly or monthly prayer meeting group; a special interest group within a local church– Moms of Pre-schoolers, or a Dorcas group, or a volunteer group that includes prayer
  • Start up a group!  Meet weekly, twice a week, monthly– whenever, wherever, and whatever works for you and a few others.  If you don’t have a space in your home or don’t want to meet at a church, be creative– meet at a park or a local coffee house, or take turns hosting a prayer meeting with others in your group.  Don’t be discouraged if there are only two in your “group”; and don’t feel bad about keeping your group limited– you may find enough interested people to form two or three groups in your neighborhood!
  • Think outside the box– you may stumble on to a group during your commute to work each day; in your child’s play group; at the gym; at a neighborhood church you have never visited (it doesn’t mean you are being “unfaithful” to your church to reach out to fellow brothers or sisters throughout the week!)

Ground rules:

  • Groups should have some structure, leadership, and accountability
  • Participants (including leaders) should be careful not to confuse gossip for “concerns”, or use the group for a sounding board, on-going therapy, or a captive audience for their personal drama or their political or social agenda
  • Group leaders need to create boundaries, so participants feel free to share real burdens and concerns but take responsibility for others’ privacy and vulnerability
  • Groups should be open to visitors, new members, and seekers of all backgrounds
pexels-photo-754769.jpeg

Issues to watch for–Any group that is made up of humans can fall victim to unhealthy and unwholesome practices.  Just because a group meets with good intentions and calls itself a prayer group doesn’t mean that it is a “safe” place to meet.  Keep your eyes and ears open for the following:

  • Groups that make you feel uncomfortable for showing up, or for sharing (or not sharing every one of) your authentic concerns, your questions, or your feedback.  Sometimes, we can feel uncomfortable sharing about ourselves because we feel shame or guilt about our past or about our lack of knowledge or experience; sometimes we’re defensive or hypersensitive because we’re in a new situation.  But if you are being made to feel ashamed or isolated or patronized, especially if you are being labeled or discriminated against, get out.  LEAVE– shake the dust off of your shoes as you go  (One caveat here– there are groups that meet for specific issues (see below)…if the group is meeting to pray as parents of toddlers, and you aren’t a parent or grandparent or aunt or uncle of a toddler– not only will you feel uncomfortable, but so will the rest of the group.  You should still leave this group, but you can forego the shoe shaking…)
  • Groups that have one or two members who dominate and intimidate the other members.  Leaders need to provide boundaries and structure, but they should not squash authentic dialogue or force everyone to listen to someone else’s “true confessions” (especially if it’s a repeat of the last meeting!)  This is more a “comfort zone” issue than the first one– some groups just have a couple of “talkers” and a couple of “listeners”–the point here is that there needs to be a balance so that all members have a chance to contribute
  • .
    arrogant
  • Groups that get “taken over” or sidetracked by a single issue– unless that is what you signed up for.  If you are a group whose purpose is prayer, it’s not safe to assume that everyone in your group will also want to go on a protest march or volunteer an entire Saturday at the soup kitchen.  There’s nothing wrong with other activities, but it shouldn’t be a requirement of your prayer group (see above)
  • Groups that are only “token” prayer groups–they may “share” what’s going on in their families as “requests” but they don’t actually take time to pray about them in the group setting.  They talk and eat, and maybe even say “spiritual” things.  There’s nothing wrong with friends getting together, whether they pray or not, but if you’re going to call it a prayer group or a prayer meeting….
  • pexels-photo-618544.jpeg
  • That brings me to the group that uses “prayer” as a cover for gossip or grumbling.  Prayer should be constructive and God-centered.  If it isn’t either, it isn’t really prayer.  Even if it sounds positive and holy, if it is centered on how “blessed” you are, or what you know God needs to do in someone else’s life– it isn’t really prayer unless His name is magnified and ours is minimized.
  • Any group that does not honor God’s word, God’s sovereignty, or God’s goodness–Not every group that prays is praying to Almighty God, in the name of Jesus Christ, or for His will to be accomplished.  While prayer groups should be open to all people, and there are wonderful opportunities for ecumenical and all-faith prayer in the public forum, a weekly or monthly prayer group is probably not the best venue.  That being said, I recommend exposure to various Christian prayer styles and practices– formal and ritual prayer, spirit-filled worship prayer, gospel-infused crying out, simple “popcorn” utterances, and eloquent prayers that roll off righteous tongues in an engaging crescendo, punctuated with holy hushes.
pexels-photo-267559.jpeg

Treetop Prayers

There is a zoo, about an hour from my house, where you can climb up on a platform at certain times of the day, and feed giraffes.  Since giraffes are not native to the American Midwest, this is probably the closest I ever have come, or ever will come, to a live giraffe, and I have enjoyed the opportunity to interact with this unique member of God’s creation.

Giraffes are grazers, but their unique bodies are not best designed for munching on grass or other low-lying plants.  Instead, their focus is on the tops of trees and tall bushes.  For me to feed a giraffe, I need to be at the level of the tree branches.  And it changes my perspective.  I’m no longer paying attention to ants and blades of grass.  I can see landscapes and clouds for miles stretching out around me.  Not a bad view at all!

pexels-photo-772662.jpeg

Yet giraffes are still grounded–they do not soar like eagles, above all the clouds and unattached to the earth.  Giraffes must still be on guard and prepared to flee danger from predators or grass fires.  But their unique height and perspective give them a better view to see the danger from far off, and act accordingly.

Sometimes, I think we are called to pray with a giraffe’s perspective–to look up and out and pray from the treetops–a little closer to God and leaving behind the small things of the world.  Lofty prayers of gratitude and praise; prayers that recognize that there is a big world of wonder all around us.  Prayers that look ahead and can see trouble on the horizon; to seek God’s face early and prepare for hard times ahead.

pexels-photo-235734.jpeg

This doesn’t mean that we will always be in a place to pray treetop prayers. Sometimes, we need to pray from the depths. There are days when we cannot lift our eyes without help from the very God to whom we pray. But we are called to walk THROUGH the valleys, not to stay in them! We should feel confident that God will still hear us, no matter where we may be.  But the Bible reminds us often that we should look up, ascend, raise our eyes, and change our perspective.

  •  I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth. Psalm 121: 1-2 (ESV)
  • Lift up your eyes and look to the heavens: Who created all these? He who brings out the starry host one by one and calls forth each of them by name. Isaiah 40:26
  • Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is… Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. Colossians 3: 1-2
  • But as for me, I watch in hope for the Lord, I wait for God my Savior; my God will hear me. Micah 7:7
  • So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. 2 Corinthians 4:18
  • “Surely then you will find delight in the Almighty and will lift up your face to God.” Job 22:26
  • “But you, Lord, are a shield around me, my glory, the One who lifts my head high.” Psalm 3:3

I plan to take some time today for treetop prayer.  Will you?

Who Do You Say That I Am?

During Jesus’ ministry on earth, there were many discussions about who he was, who he said he was, and who others said he was.  The Bible is full of the names of God, of Jesus, and of the Holy Spirit– there are descriptive names, prophetic names, genealogical references, allegorical names, sacred names…but one of the pivotal questions Jesus asked of his followers was this: “Who do YOU say that I am”? (Luke 9:18-27; Matt. 16: 13-18)

We can ask ourselves why Jesus might pose this question to the disciples– was it some Socratic technique, or a trick question?  The disciples had heard several theories, descriptions, and names tossed about.  Was Jesus trying to determine how effectively he had presented himself to the Jewish people– and to his closest followers?   I don’t think so.  If that were his motivation, he could have asked, “Who to you THINK I am?”, or “Who WOULD you say that I am?”  Instead, he asked “Who DO YOU SAY  that I am?”

This is still a very relevant question today, and not just as a matter of recognizing him as Messiah.  Even when Peter gave an answer, Jesus did not say, “Good job, Peter.  You nailed it in one!  That’s the right answer, and your prize is that you will become “The Rock” on which I build my church.”  That’s how some people might read it, but that’s not the true story– Peter gave a correct answer, an inspired answer, but it was not a definitive answer.  Peter recognized who Jesus was supposed to be, but he had not experienced, and did not know, the fullness of who Jesus was.  Peter would later go on to deny this same Jesus, and say that he did not even know him at all!  Only after Jesus’ resurrection and ascension did Peter fully recognize and live out the answer he gave earlier.  His last years were spent demonstrating  in words and deeds that he had truly encountered “the Christ, the Son of the Living God!”

How does this relate to a pursuit of prayer in our own time?  What we say about Jesus involves more than just a pat answer.  To say, “He is the Christ, the Son of the Living God” is a correct answer, but what does that really mean to us?  What does it mean as we live as a witness before others?  Is he Christ and Savior, and Messiah to me? When I say he is the “Son of God,” is that just another of his many names to me, or do I understand all the richness of that title?  When I review the many names of God, do they resonate with personal meaning?  Do I pray to the “God who Sees,” to the “God who Provides,” the “God of my Salvation,” the “Almighty”, and the “God who Hears?”  Or am I praying to a “God I studied and know a lot about,”  a “God I heard about at Church,” or a “God I hope will hear me?”  If I pray “in Jesus’ name,” is that just an affectation?  Is it just a formality, or does that name, that person, inhabit my prayers and my life?  Am I praying in the name of the “Lion of Judah,” “Emmanuel”, “the Risen Lamb,” or just “a great teacher who talked a lot about love?”

pexels-photo-217114.jpeg

These are not questions meant to trigger doubt about my salvation, but questions designed to challenge my commitment and my faithfulness.  I bear the name of Christ–what I think I say about him; what I think I believe about him; what I think others see of him in me– it matters.  It is of supreme importance.  I need to be sure that I’m not taking for granted that what I know about my savior is the same as Knowing Him, and that what I think I’m saying about him is clear, consistent, and true.

What do my prayers say about Jesus?  What do my actions say about him?  What does my life say about him?  Hopefully, like Peter, the end of my story will bring honor and bear truthful witness to the Great “I AM” of scripture, the God of MY salvation, and the God who has heard me, loved me, corrected me, redeemed me, sanctified me, and welcomed me home to be with Him eternally!

Talk is Cheap

We are entering the season of Lent.  It is supposed to be a season of reflection, repentance, confession, and preparation.  Some people refer to it as a spring cleaning of the soul.  It is a time when many give things up or abstain from things– certain habits or routines, certain foods or activities.  This can be a good practice for many reasons– it teaches us discipline and patience; it reminds us of all that Christ gave up for us; it turns our focus from common earthly things to spiritual matters; and it frees us from habits and routines that have not only pulled us away from God, but away from each other.

I grew up with very mixed, and mostly negative, feelings about Lent. Neither my family nor my church celebrated Lent.  Many of my friends did, and their stories did very little to change my views.  I saw the season as drudgery, self-imposed punishment, dreary and legalistic, a cheerless, fruitless, and (mostly) meatless way of counting down to Easter.  No one seemed to “celebrate” it– it was more like they endured it.  My views have since changed, but I don’t think they were all that uncommon, and I think I was missing something of great value, something I would like to explore.

There are three important elements of Lent that I have struggled with, and I would like to share what I’ve learned.

  • There is great value in sober, somber reflection.  Our world is constantly calling us to revelry, happiness, entertainment, activity, and superficial comfort.  We see weakness in mourning for, and admitting to, our sins. We judge those who are serious and sober as “stodgy”, “boring”, and “prosy”.  We feel awkward in stillness and silent self-examination.  But the Bible paints a very different picture.  And the practices of fasting, confession, and meditation, practiced across a spectrum of religions, have been shown to promote better physical, mental, and emotional health, as well as spiritual well-being.

godlysorrow

  • Because we don’t value Godly sorrow– we sometimes substitute other practices that make a mockery of what Lent should be about.  I know I am not perfect, but I don’t want to feel that emptiness, that bankruptcy of spirit, that comes with honest confession and repentance.  In fact, I sometimes “glamorize” what is really petty.  I justify my bitterness, I excuse my selfishness, I “confide” my dislikes and judgmental thoughts about others.  And I bring these sins before God, not in sorrow and humility, but in scandal, as though he will be shocked or even entertained by my wayward behavior

trueconfessions

  • Which brings me to the third thing–cheap grace.  I spend a lot of time talking about Christian living– about the value of prayer, and confession being good for the soul.  I talk about being forgiven, and loving God, and wanting to serve him better.  But I have fallen into the very bad habit of seeing God as Ward Cleaver, or Ozzie Nelson– lovable and authoritative, but not Sovereign or supremely Holy –“There, there, child.  That’s all right.  You’ve confessed, and you’ve learned your lesson.  We’ll just forget that ever happened.”   Lent should lead us to dependence on God’s amazing grace.  It is the work of Christ in us– and only that– that saves, renews, and empowers us.  There is a danger in our culture that we cheapen grace by making the focus on what we know, or say about Christianity, rather than what God does through us.  Cheap grace leads to cheap talk–in my daily life, and in my prayer life.

This year for Lent, I’m not going to talk about giving up fast food, or Facebook, or shopping at my favorite store.  I’m not going to set a checklist or a target for random acts of kindness or giving alms.  I’m not even going to set a schedule for extra prayers or a list of special prayers just for this season.  There’s nothing wrong with any of those; in fact, if you’re thinking of doing any of the above (or all of the above), I encourage you to do it with all my heart.  My prayer for the next forty days will be to invite God to clean out the pretense and hand-wringing, sweep away the cobwebs of analyzing and making excuses, and empty my heart of pride, self-sufficiency, and false guilt, so that he can fill it again with love for him and for others.  Love that is more than cheap talk.  Love that pours out life and renewal– just as Christ poured out his blood on Good Friday, poured out glory on Easter morning, and poured out power at Pentecost.  Not because it was part of a 40-day program of renewal, but because it could not be contained.

But it starts with ashes and repentance.

psalm139

Sowing the Wind

“They sow the wind, and reap the whirlwind…”  Hosea 8:7

Hosea was a prophet who foretold the destruction (and eventual restoration) of his people.  God was pouring out his judgment against an unfaithful nation, and he used the tragic family life of Hosea as a living example of his dealings with Israel.  Hosea married a prostitute; an unfaithful and unloving spouse who chased after men with ready money and cheap gifts.  But when her activities resulted in slavery, shame, and despair, Hosea redeemed her and restored her as his wife.  In the same way, God had made a promise to the people of Israel, but they had broken their covenant and followed their own rules, chasing after the surrounding cultures, with their foreign gods and their hedonistic rituals, including human sacrifice, temple prostitutes, and divination.  There are many metaphors used throughout this book, but one that often stands out is the short phrase found in chapter eight.  In it, God is talking about the unfaithful priests and leaders of Israel, who have not only betrayed God in their rebellion and idolatry, but have led others astray.  God says of them that they have sown the wind, and are reaping/will reap the whirlwind.

How does this relate to us today in our pursuit of prayer?

I believe that many of us are sowing the wind– we do it in our careless words, gossip, rumor-mongering, complaining, babbling, prattling, and yes, in our half-hearted obedience, and our tepid prayers.  We often come to God, not eager to commune with him, or to hear his voice, not in humble adoration and open confession, but to complain, wheedle, and boast.  We pay lip service to his Holiness, while refusing to give up that bad habit that “isn’t really all that bad.”  We thank him for his Grace, but harbor resentment against a neighbor or family member who slighted us.  We ask for him to bring us success in our plans and ventures without really making sure if they line up with his will.  We excuse our lack of attendance at church, and our failure to spend time in God’s word.  We make rash promises to do “better” if God just gets us through this week.  We ask for his blessing, and thank him for the riches he has bestowed on us, but we turn our noses at those in our backyard who are in need.  We are bold about posting “Christian” sayings on Facebook, X, Pinterest, and Instagram–almost as bold as posting about our favorite new Brew Pub or Spa trip or “almost inappropriate” joke, or latest political rant.  Except that our “Christian” posts are less entertaining and more critical of others.  (They’re usually really pretty, though– pictures of flowers or mountain streams or desert sunsets–it’s really easy to “like” and “share” a sunset!.)  We cheapen the Gospel, we cheapen the Christian walk, we cheapen prayer, when we pursue it as a hobby or a social habit. Bur prayer is not something we do only because (or only when)  it makes us feel “good” or “better”– it is something we pursue because it brings us life and peace for eternity, and it brings glory and joy to the King of Kings.

“They sow the wind, and reap the whirlwind…”  There is a price for this shallow, careless pursuit of something that looks and feels vaguely like Godliness.  It is the whirlwind…being tossed about by “every wind of doctrine” as Paul warns against in Ephesians 4.  It is being caught up in doubts and half-truths, compromises, hypocrisy, division, scandal, and shame.  It is having to face the onslaught of detractors and persecution that come as a result of so many of us abusing and misrepresenting the very Gospel of the one whose name we carry.   “Oh, what peace we often forfeit; Oh, what needless pain we bear; All because we do not carry everything to God in prayer.”  The words of that old hymn are no less true today– when we trifle with prayer, carrying only our selfish needs, our petty complaints, and our flimsy agendas to God in prayer, we pay a huge price.

There is another metaphor, this one in the Gospel of John, that I think helps us combat this tendency to “sow the wind”–  Jesus says of himself in John 15 that he is the vine, and we are the branches.  If we are faithful, we remain in him– we draw our life and strength from him– and we are fruitful.  Remaining in him, we are grounded– he provides the roots that keep us from blowing every which way.  And he provides the nourishment, and strength to grow and produce more fruit.

I say “we” because I too am guilty of having sown the wind.  The great news, in Hosea and in the Gospel of John, is that God is eager to restore us– to graft us in–to welcome us home after our storm-tossed wanderings.  Let’s get serious about abiding in God, instead of scattering the latest “feel-good” religious spam.  God, forgive me for the times I have cheapened your precious gift of prayer.  Help me to abide in you, and refrain from careless words to you, about you, and about others.

Transformative Prayer

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

pexels-photo-415380.jpeg

Prayer Bullies

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑