Learning how to pray
This was originally written on 27 March somewhere around midnight, but the computer I was on refused to let me log into Blogger, so here it is. All you Pictures for Perspective people out there--don't lynch me, my computer isn't up, therefore I have no pictures to post. I am, as of the moment, unable to do anything with pictures and photos. Except shoot, which I am doing at an alarming rate any chance I get. :)
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On learning how to pray...
I’ve thought a lot about prayer this week. My prayer life is pretty…ADD. No, seriously. I start praying, and it goes something like this:
“Hey God, it’s me. I’m sorry I haven’t made spending time with you a real priority this past couple of days, help me to stay focused…and God, I just…hmm, I need to remember to call Ronnie about training her dog, I meant to do that earlier…um, God, sorry, um, I ask that you help me with…did I turn the alarm on for in the morning? Did Andy turn it off? [Get up, check alarm.] Okay, God, sorry about that, um, so yeah, help me stay focused on reading your word and…what is the dumb dog barking at?”
You get the point. It reminds me of the puppies I train. They are soooo focused, and then a leaf blows by. Or they sneeze. Or the dog next to them twitches. And just like that, poof…they forget you’re even there.
I have friends who, when they pray, it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard. I know others who can pray beautifully and never say a thing. Like “Oh gracious and wonderful Lord Jesus Christ, we come before you today and ask that you pour your blessings upon us, your faithful and humble servants…” Me? It’s more like, “Hey God, what’s up?” When I pray, it’s not eloquent, or pretty, and it rarely flows together. I can remember ‘praying’ things like, “WHAT is your PROBLEM, God?” and “Are you HAPPY now?” and “Well, I’m screwed. Any ideas?” You get the idea. Lately, though, I’ve been challenged to learn how to pray.
For instance, when you have the friend who is diagnosed with terminal cancer, how do you pray for that person? Do you ask that she be healed? Or do you do that prettier version of “God, be with her and make it not so horrific, because we all know she’s going to die anyway.” I know, this is very politically incorrect, but haven’t you been there? Haven’t you faced that situation when you are torn between praying boldly for a miracle or praying to ease the suffering in the outcome we “all know” is coming? I’ll bet you’ve been there. I know I have.
Suppose you choose to believe in a God that can work miracles. Suppose you believe in a God that can do anything. Do you dare to pray that He will work the miracle? Do you dare to pray that he will do the impossible?
See, I’ll say it. I’m brave enough to be the one. I don’t know that I have the faith for my God to work miracles.
How often did I pray, tears streaming from my eyes, sobbing to my God, save him, please, don’t take him. Save him. Save her. Don’t take him. Don’t take another person that I love. Don’t. Don’t make her suffer. Just protect her from this one thing. Anything but that. But it didn’t happen that way. All the faith and praying in the world couldn’t stop my loved ones from dying, hurting. They died, over and over and over, they died. They suffered. And that ‘one thing’? It happened. Again, and again, and again.
So back to the original question. Do you pray boldly, as in Joshua 10? Joshua sees the task ahead and sees that only the impossible will allow him to succeed. So, with an obscene amount of faith, Joshua looks up and yells, “Sun, stand still!” He tells the sun to stay put, and it does.
But what would have happened if the sun hadn’t stood still? What would have happened if God didn’t choose to do what Joshua asked? The truth is, God would’ve had a good reason and every right to do just that. What if Joshua had yelled at the sun and God went, “Nope, we’re gonna do it this way.” Would Joshua have ever dared to pray so boldly again?
I hope so.
I can accept now that God won’t always give us what we want, and that what we think is best isn’t always his plan.
My challenge isn’t to figure out God. My challenge is to have faith. We’re told that with the faith of a mustard seed, we can tell a mountain to ‘scooch over’, and it’ll do it. But the ‘faith of a mustard seed’ is the hard part. How do you believe with everything that you are that the impossible can happen? No, that the impossible WILL happen? That’s the part my mind can’t seem to wrap around. I want to believe with all that I am that the impossible will happen. But I’m Thomas, through and through. That doubt still lingers there, in the back of my mind.
I think people give Thomas too much crap, too. Everyone wants to think they are the "Peter"s, that when the time comes, they will blindly leap out of the boat to walk on water. I think there are a lot more Thomas’s out there than we’d like to think. Thomas wanted to believe that his friend was alive. He wanted so desperately to believe that. But Thomas also understood the cost if his friends were wrong, if Jesus really was dead after all. Thomas was doing the best he could to survive the most crushing, senseless sorrow he’d ever felt, and I think he knew just how dangerous that hope would be to his sanity if it proved to be wrong. See, Thomas wasn’t a bad guy. He just knew that he would break under the weight of yet another blow to his already battered heart. Hope is a great and wonderful thing, but it can be dangerous when it is false. Thomas loved Jesus, but I think he was too afraid to lose him twice to believe. Thomas’s lack of faith was, quite simply, self-preservation.
But, in the end, Thomas was wrong. In the end, Jesus really was alive. This time, the sun stood still.
I still don’t know. I don’t know how I’m supposed to pray all the time. I don’t always know what the right thing is. The "Lord’s Prayer" gives us a place to start, but it doesn’t cover everything. It doesn’t cover the dying, the loss of innocence, the injustices that are beyond my control. I’ve got a lot to learn.
For those of you who have the faith of a mountain, pray for me, and everyone like me, who is still working on the mustard seed.
For instance, when you have the friend who is diagnosed with terminal cancer, how do you pray for that person? Do you ask that she be healed? Or do you do that prettier version of “God, be with her and make it not so horrific, because we all know she’s going to die anyway.” I know, this is very politically incorrect, but haven’t you been there? Haven’t you faced that situation when you are torn between praying boldly for a miracle or praying to ease the suffering in the outcome we “all know” is coming? I’ll bet you’ve been there. I know I have.
Suppose you choose to believe in a God that can work miracles. Suppose you believe in a God that can do anything. Do you dare to pray that He will work the miracle? Do you dare to pray that he will do the impossible?
See, I’ll say it. I’m brave enough to be the one. I don’t know that I have the faith for my God to work miracles.
How often did I pray, tears streaming from my eyes, sobbing to my God, save him, please, don’t take him. Save him. Save her. Don’t take him. Don’t take another person that I love. Don’t. Don’t make her suffer. Just protect her from this one thing. Anything but that. But it didn’t happen that way. All the faith and praying in the world couldn’t stop my loved ones from dying, hurting. They died, over and over and over, they died. They suffered. And that ‘one thing’? It happened. Again, and again, and again.
So back to the original question. Do you pray boldly, as in Joshua 10? Joshua sees the task ahead and sees that only the impossible will allow him to succeed. So, with an obscene amount of faith, Joshua looks up and yells, “Sun, stand still!” He tells the sun to stay put, and it does.
But what would have happened if the sun hadn’t stood still? What would have happened if God didn’t choose to do what Joshua asked? The truth is, God would’ve had a good reason and every right to do just that. What if Joshua had yelled at the sun and God went, “Nope, we’re gonna do it this way.” Would Joshua have ever dared to pray so boldly again?
I hope so.
I can accept now that God won’t always give us what we want, and that what we think is best isn’t always his plan.
My challenge isn’t to figure out God. My challenge is to have faith. We’re told that with the faith of a mustard seed, we can tell a mountain to ‘scooch over’, and it’ll do it. But the ‘faith of a mustard seed’ is the hard part. How do you believe with everything that you are that the impossible can happen? No, that the impossible WILL happen? That’s the part my mind can’t seem to wrap around. I want to believe with all that I am that the impossible will happen. But I’m Thomas, through and through. That doubt still lingers there, in the back of my mind.
I think people give Thomas too much crap, too. Everyone wants to think they are the "Peter"s, that when the time comes, they will blindly leap out of the boat to walk on water. I think there are a lot more Thomas’s out there than we’d like to think. Thomas wanted to believe that his friend was alive. He wanted so desperately to believe that. But Thomas also understood the cost if his friends were wrong, if Jesus really was dead after all. Thomas was doing the best he could to survive the most crushing, senseless sorrow he’d ever felt, and I think he knew just how dangerous that hope would be to his sanity if it proved to be wrong. See, Thomas wasn’t a bad guy. He just knew that he would break under the weight of yet another blow to his already battered heart. Hope is a great and wonderful thing, but it can be dangerous when it is false. Thomas loved Jesus, but I think he was too afraid to lose him twice to believe. Thomas’s lack of faith was, quite simply, self-preservation.
But, in the end, Thomas was wrong. In the end, Jesus really was alive. This time, the sun stood still.
I still don’t know. I don’t know how I’m supposed to pray all the time. I don’t always know what the right thing is. The "Lord’s Prayer" gives us a place to start, but it doesn’t cover everything. It doesn’t cover the dying, the loss of innocence, the injustices that are beyond my control. I’ve got a lot to learn.
For those of you who have the faith of a mountain, pray for me, and everyone like me, who is still working on the mustard seed.
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