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.

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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
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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
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  • 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….
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  • 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.
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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!

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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.

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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?”

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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.

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  • 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

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  • 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.

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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.

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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.

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!

 

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.

tablegrace

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.

gracelady

“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.”

 

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.

 

 

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