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.

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

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.

March 5, 2025 0

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.

February 26, 2025 0

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.

February 24, 2025 0

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.

February 17, 2025 0

Journaling Prayer

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

February 12, 2025 1

The Lost Art of Saying Grace

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

February 3, 2025 0

In Everything Give Thanks

So many times my prayers do not reflect a grateful heart, but a needy one. Giving thanks is easy in those miraculous moments, and those special times of reflection and rejoicing. It is not so easy during times of stress, suffering, and waiting.

God blesses those who are “poor in spirit”; he is close to the broken-hearted, the weary, and the afflicted. Yet he asks us to give thanks always and in all circumstances. Many people see this as unreasonable, egotistical, and tyrannical on the part of God– that somehow, he needs our constant and abject praise. But what if this command is for OUR benefit? Let’s break this down:

IN everything– Not for everything. We don’t thank God FOR the death of a loved one, or the loss of a home, or an injustice done to us. But we can and should thank God for being sovereign throughout all the circumstances of life; for conquering death, for providing help and hope in our times of need; for promising both justice when we have been wronged, and grace when we have been unjust in our turn. There is never a time when we CANNOT be thankful–though there are many times when it is difficult, or when we choose not look beyond our pain.

EVERYTHING–Not just the “big” things– everything. We can be thankful for teeth, for dishes to wash, for traffic, for the way the moon hangs in the misty darkness, for a puppy’s eager greeting, for finally understanding our math homework, for the memory of a loved one, for the song that keeps playing in our head. Sometimes it’s not the actual thing, but what it represents that causes gratitude to well up and turn our hearts back to God. If we wait for “something to be thankful for”, we’ll often miss those things right in front of us.
GIVE– Giving thanks is an action, not just a reaction. It is a choice; a mindset. We learn to say “Thank you” as children. Our parents pound it into our training as “etiquette” or “manners”, but everyone can tell when a thank you is genuine. Saying “Thanks” is not the same as giving Thanks. Actions speak much louder than mere words, and our choices in the moment are a reflection of our true character and not just “good training.”

THANKS– not just the word, but the concept. Even in my neediest moments, as I pour out a suffering, exhausted, wounded, and broken heart, I do so because I have a God who is THERE– a God who listens, who cares, who never leaves me alone and hopeless. I may feel overwhelmed, abandoned, even battered in those moments. But those awful moments do not define my life, nor do they characterize my walk with God.

This morning, I woke up–a small and underappreciated miracle– I am alive! I opened my eyes– I can see! I looked up and saw a roof over my head–I have shelter! I turned over and got out of bed– I can move! I have a bed, mattress, pillows, sheets…a bedroom! I brushed my teeth and washed my face– running water! Teeth! A toothbrush! A wash cloth! Skin! A bathroom–indoor plumbing! I saw a stack of bills on the table– I have electricity! Heat and air conditioning! A table! Money to pay bills!…I’m writing this on a computer with wireless internet in my apartment! All these things are precious gifts from God. I can be grateful, and give Him the thanks He deserves, or I can choose to ignore the blessings, or take the credit myself.

And what if I wake up tomorrow and I can’t see? What if my blessings all disappear– no house, no running water, no food or internet; no money, no family? Giving thanks is still a choice. I can choose to be thankful for who God is, and for what he has chosen to give me– or I can choose to be angry and envious and bitter. Some of the most grateful people I have ever met are those who have struggled with difficult circumstances– poverty, pain, loss, injustice–and yet they have chosen to look beyond those circumstances to give praise to God. Some of the most miserable people I’ve met are those who choose to look at their blessings with contempt; those who deny God’s goodness and choose to see only what they want but don’t have.

David and I recently closed our store. We had been open for 12 years, and we enjoyed having a business. But times change; our circumstances have changed; the economy has changed, including shopping patterns. After 12 years, this feels like a great loss. Yet, God is faithful. We met a lot of wonderful people, and we were able to provide goods and services to many within our community.

What happens next is uncertain– to us. But God knows exactly what options we have, and we trust that He will give us wisdom as we move forward.

And in everything, we will give thanks. And I’m so grateful that we can offer prayers of praise, of petition, of pain; prayers for people and places and priorities; prayers in the uncertainty, and in the unfolding of what is to come.

January 27, 2025 0

“Your Mission, Should You Choose to Accept It…”

Anyone old enough to remember the old TV show, or anyone who has seen the movies with Tom Cruise, will recognize the title quote from Mission Impossible. A message, containing details of a top secret mission, would be sent to an agent of the CIA. After the message had been delivered, it would self-destruct, and the agent would set out to save the world from terrorists or other worldwide threats. It made for exciting entertainment– speeding trains, double agents, close calls with assassins, death-defying stunts, and lots of explosions– all happening in exotic locations around the world.

Prayer doesn’t usually involve death-defying stunts or explosions, but in can involve a mission, and exotic locations. As I started keeping a prayer journal, I wanted to pray for people around the world– except I’m not a world traveler. I’ve never been to Fiji or Burundi, Greenland or the Gobi Desert. I know some missionaries who have lived or are living overseas, and their newsletters are helpful and personal– I can pray for them, for their fellow workers, and for their neighbors and friends and circumstances across the globe. But I wondered, couldn’t I do more? What if I set aside one day for every country on earth– to pray for that country and its people even once a year? That might seem like an impossible mission. How can I pray effectively for a country if I don’t even know where it is or how to pronounce its name? Thankfully, I have a lot of help. The internet is a great resource for finding out about countries, especially those in the news. But one of my favorite resources is the CIA!

The Central Intelligence Agency of the United States of America is not just in the spy business. They collect “intelligence”– facts about our world and every country in it–maps, statistics, flags, forms of government, populations, literacy and mortality rates, and so much more. https://www.cia.gov/the-world-factbook/
By visiting their site, you can find out more about any country in the world, and use that information to pray for very specific needs–countries that have been ravaged by war, disease, faltering economies; those countries facing turmoil from burgeoning immigration or sectarian violence. You can find out the official language(s) of any country, the approximate breakdown of religious affiliation, the percentage of the population that suffers from obesity, illiteracy, or poverty– even some of the history and social structure. Are there major rivers or mountain ranges in that country? What natural resources do they have (or not have).

As I put together a yearly prayer journal, I realized that there are actually more days than countries. But that’s ok. In a single year, I can pray for every nation, but I can also lift up each state in the U.S., every Canadian province, and several major world cities! I can even pray for continents and oceans and focue on one geographic area every day!

I don’t spend hours poring over each country, city, state or continent each day– sometimes, I just lift up that area by name, knowing that God already knows the needs and situations in each place better than I ever could (even with the help of drones and spies). But when I have the time, I like to learn more about the amazing diversity of peoples, languages, cultures, and circumstances around the world. It reminds me that God has all of them in his hand, on his mind, and in his heart at all times. It’s a big world out there, though it often seems to be shrinking. God is Bigger! There are a lot of tragic circumstances and heartbreaking issues around the world. God is still Sovereign! There are millions of people in remote and forgotten corners of the world– God sees and cherishes all of them!

I still have my “first world” problems, and personal issues to bring to the throne of Grace, but what a privilege to be able to lift up others– people I have never met in places I will never be able to visit–knowing that I can have a tiny part in the work God wants to do in their lives, as well as in mine.

January 22, 2025 2

The Weight of Words

Words have weight– I’m not talking about thousand-page novels or multi-syllable legalese terms– some words simply weigh heavier on the mind and heart than others. Some everyday words spill out like dust motes carried on a light breeze. They hang suspended in midair, without any set purpose or destination, and finally settle, forgotten, until someone sweeps them away. Other words explode, sending shards and pellets at unwary targets. Some words thunder like falling rocks in an avalanche of guilt or anger or hatred. And some rare and precious words have the weight of a quilt or a hug, or an arm lifting you up when you are falling.

One of the amazing things about prayer is that as we pour out our words before the Savior, the weight of our words is lifted off our hearts and minds and given to him to carry– the weight of the guilt, the weight of worry, the weight of grief, the weight of anger, the weight of hurt. Not only does God take on the weight of our words (and our pain and guilt), but he makes sense of it all– maybe not instantly, or in the way we imagine– but he brings order and goodness out of our chaos and burden.

And those everyday words swirling around like dust fall into the light, where they shine like gold dust in His presence. When we bring everything to God, he transforms it; he transforms us.

Our words have weight in prayer. And our words to others have weight, as well. Today, I want to weigh my words carefully. Are my words burdening others, or helping them lift a load of care? If I had to carry the weight of my words– my criticisms and clever put-downs, my accusations and angry tantrums, my bragging and comparisons– would I be dragging them behind me with joy and pride? What if, instead, my words were filled with the weight of shared laughter, encouragement, hope, and compassion? What if my words held the weight of truth and kindness and peace?

Would it change the weight of my prayers?

May 3, 2024 0

An Encouraging Word

It can be a dog-eat-dog kind of world out there. Every day, I hear of people who are facing difficult and trying circumstances– health issues, loss of a job or home, loss of a family member or close friend, depression, oppression, harassment, rebellious or estranged children, abuse, academic failures, exhaustion from being provider, caregiver, etc.– even just daily stress. It can really take a toll. But it becomes even more difficult when we isolate ourselves.

When I get stressed, I tend to withdraw. I don’t want others to think of me as a failure, or to think less of me in my struggles. But this is one of the worst things I can do. First, it means more worry and stress because I’m bearing the burden alone! Second, it forces me to cover up my level of anxiety or depression be pretending that things are fine when they aren’t. That would all be bad enough, but it gets worse. Isolating means my focus turns inward– my problems become bigger, not smaller; I’m so close to the problem, I’m not able to “look outside the box” for solutions, because my box keeps closing in on me. I can’t see beyond my circumstances to understand if they are temporary, or if they necessitate some life changes on the other side of whatever crisis I’m dealing with. And, worst of all, the only voice I listen to is my own, rehearsing and reminding me of the difficulties or failures I’m facing. What opportunities do I miss, not only to hear an encouraging word, but to share one with someone else?!

We all need an encouraging word now and then; a voice telling us that we are not alone; that all is not lost; that there is hope. I have been blessed with wonderful family, friends, and neighbors who are great about encouraging me, even when I try to shut them out or pretend that everything is grand. Sometimes that encouragement comes through conversation; sometimes a card or text message or a shared piece of scripture; sometimes it comes through prayer. I may not even know who prayed, or what words they used until days or weeks later, but their faithfulness in praying has become a lifeline when I feel isolated and overwhelmed.

This does not negate my need to pray and ask God for wisdom, healing, or strength for myself, nor does it suggest that God doesn’t answer my prayers. Instead, it shows a pattern– God often answers our prayers by incorporating and using those around us. God’s goodness and his love are shown best in teamwork. We run the race to win, but we race together as teammates, not competitors. We share sorrows, struggles, and joys. We come alongside; we lift others up, and they lift us up in return.

Encouragement does so much, we sometimes underestimate its power. In a world of sniping, criticism, name-calling, and finger-pointing, encouragement does the following:

It lets someone know that they are seen and heard– that they are being noticed, thought of, and valued. This shouldn’t be uncommon, but in a world where we are connected to so many be technology, and to so few face-to-face, it is HUGE!
It give us perspective to realize that we are not alone in our problems and not unique in facing difficulties.
It reminds us that hope and help are gifts to be shared, not something we must earn.
It gives us a purpose and a mission to be part of God’s redemptive work– Jesus gave encouragement and hope to those who needed it most, not to those who “deserved” it.

It can be a dog-eat-dog world out there, but we are not dogs. We are children of the King. Let’s send out some encouraging words today!

A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in a setting of silver. (Proverbs 25:11 (ESV)

Also see James 5:13-16 on praying for one another.

August 11, 2023 0

Tag: Spirituality