Prayer
Morning Prayer for You
It’s a tremendous privilege to pray with you this morning, friend. As I thought about our needs today, I was impressed with God’s faithfulness to us. He surrounds us with confirmation of his trustworthy nature. His attention to detail and generous love is everywhere if we’ll just look for it.
Please do more than listen to my simple words – listen for the love and care your Heavenly Father has for you. Seek him today. Wait for him. And then go out and find him. I’ll be doing the same.
What joy to do the journey with you. BLESS your day!
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Redemption
Redemption: an exchange, reclaiming or rescuing – my new favorite word. I find myself pleading for it as I pray for my friends. This week especially – my heart feels like it’s encased in thick cement.
A young father waits for a bone marrow transplant after flushing his body with poison to interrupt the wicked plan of cancer. Another friend is stalled midstream in treatment, waiting for test results as she battles a rare female cancer.
Still another friend sits with her daughter in ICU hoping she’ll wake up after careening into an asthma-induced coma. Two states away from her, another friend fights her way back to us after trauma to her brain.
Each one of these dear friends knows the love of God and knows Jesus as their Savior. Each one of them confesses unwavering faith in the face of their storm. They wait. They pray. They’re my heroes.
I watch their communities join them in prayer – pleading for healing – waiting for the supernatural rescue line.
Our Heavenly Father holds all lifelines. He also knows the outcome.
What does he think as he watches us bang heaven’s doors telling him – the creator of all we see and all we can’t see – what he must do? Surely, if we cry hard enough, shout loud enough, make wrong things right – somehow, heaven will finally respond the way we want it to. The torrential storm will pass and clear skies of grace and fairness will return. Bad will be redeemed with his good.
But what if redemption comes in the form of death – or through the mystery of suffering?
Redemption scoops up our broken pieces and reconstructs it for his best use. We didn’t redeem ourselves into right standing with him in the first place. And we cannot redeem our difficult circumstances by what we do or say. As believers, we can’t even claim our own life as our own. Hard times remind us of that.
His plans are always best. He knows the tomorrow we can only dream about.
Releasing our will, our plans and even our grip on the tiller is a lifelong journey. Graciously receiving his redemptive plan – whatever it may be, is an even tougher sea to sail.
Sovereign God, help me let go and accept your perfect plan. Chip away the hard surface of my stoney heart. I yearn to reclaim it with complete trust in who you are. I don’t need to know what your plan looks like – I only need to walk in my own completed redemption with full assurance you are bigger, smarter and wiser than me. Heal us, I pray.
Psalms 66:19-20 “Praise God who does not reject our prayers or withhold his love from us.”
Linking up today with #TellHisStory by Jennifer Dukes Lee. Hop on over to read her blog along with the many others invited to participate in sharing their stories. You won’t regret it.
My Prayer for Us
The older I get the more precious my family and friends become to me. I am grateful for each one of you – seriously grateful.
Like the little drummer boy, I don’t have much to offer, but what I bring today comes straight from my heart.
Please allow me to pray for us as you listen to the song, O’ Holy Night. It’s a small gift, but as I labored to put it together – many of your faces came to mind leaving a large and wonderful lump in my throat. I appreciate your kindness to me – your patience with me and your faithful friendship. I pray God’s blessing on each of us as we do life together.
My ordinary life is filled with wonder – thanks to people like you. God bless you.
Merry Christmas!
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When Prayer Aches
My heart aches as I remember people I’ve promised to pray for. Powerlessness stands hand in hand with weakness at the door of my soul. They taunt me and threaten me with paralysis.
I think of several friends sitting on the brink of financial ruin – not the kind of ruin that means eliminating a few luxury items, but ruin that puts them on the street. I’ve given money, encouragement and strategized ways to sidestep the inevitable. I pray. Nothing changes. Days and months pass by while their savings vanish and debt has reached the ceiling. They somehow continue on. I pray more.
For others, it’s the insidious snake of disease that has somehow slithered into their bodies without warning. How did it get past the gate of their faith? They seemed so healthy. I boldly pray for healing, while silently cursing the strength of the foe. I wrestle with my theology, reminding it what I believe. I quote scriptures, I cry. I pray for strength to pray again. I hurt for my friends. Powerlessness and weakness want to stake claim to my soul.
The softness of the ache is tempted to yield to a more comfortable place – to hardness, anger and defeat.
I promised to pray for a place for my friend to live. I promised to pray for a friend’s drug addicted child. I promised to pray for healing and restoration – for deliverance. Instead, I find myself focusing on my own wounded heart that yearns for quick fixes, solutions and the easier road.
I fail at my promises – I don’t dare accuse God of failing at his. I hurt.
Prayer is a mystery to me. There are times I drift into the safe harbor of God’s presence, thinking I’ll never return – and I don’t want to. Nothing seems impossible in those moments. I can taste his goodness and see his strength. So why wouldn’t I use those moments to advocate for my friends? Am I just too selfish? Do I easily forget about my friends?
Or do my own suggestions disintegrate in the light of his sovereignty.
I think the mystery is God himself, not prayer. Praying through our own heaviness of heart and for the needs of others is a gift, not a task. Prayer fulfills the two commandments he left for us – to love him and love others. Praying is the act of loving others by speaking their name and sharing their pain. Ultimately, prayer leads us to the mystery of God’s higher place – his better plans.
I should be free enough to welcome powerlessness and weakness when I pray. For they remind me of my own limitations. They point me to his vast and mysterious capability.
My heart aches when I forget who calls me to the privilege of prayer. When I forget who plans – who listens.
My soul soars when I remember that I’m not remembering alone.
(Please visit the COMMENT BOX and shore your thoughts with us too)
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Swimming With SimpleThoughts
My husband and I swim laps at a local high school pool. I can’t say I’m the exercise enthusiast he is but I always leave the pool glad I went.
When we arrive I quickly scope out the available lanes. I don’t like to share a lane with my husband because our stroke style is very different and quite frankly he’s too splashy for me. If I’m lucky I grab a lane to myself or share with another gentler swimmer. Today I lucked out. I had a lane to myself.
Swimming laps used to be boring to me until I quit counting laps and turned the monotonous experience into a time of worship and contemplation.
It’s amazing how therapeutic it can be. The water creates a barrier between the outside world and me. My body eventually moves in a steady rhythm that seems to invite me into God’s presence. The cleared space welcomes inspirational thoughts and released burdens. I love it.
The solo lane I got today was the last one located next to the free-swim area where children were playing. I figured I could ignore the distractions and swim closer to the other side. Shortly after I started my laps however, the lane on the other side of me added two very splashy swimmers. In a matter of minutes my lane became a cross between a washing machine and tsunami. I found myself drifting from side to side trying to dodge the turbulence. I strategized how to set my pace in front of the annoying swimmers or hug the barrier to miss their wake. I was determined to figure this out and enjoy the swim.
Halfway into my session I reached for the ledge to make a turn and noticed my husband signaling me to trade lanes with him. He had been watching and knew how uncomfortable I was.
It wasn’t until I slipped into the peaceful water of his lane that I realized how bad the other situation had been. The stillness of the water and its quiet calm welcomed me. The change seemed to propel my stroke with renewed energy.
I couldn’t help but draw the correlation between life in general and my swim at the pool today.
Sometimes it takes another person or outside source to recognize our struggle and point out the need for a ‘lane change’ in our life. Perseverance alone isn’t always enough to bring us through our difficult places. Without realizing it – we become battle weary and tired. It’s during the times we need it the most that we can become distracted away from worship and communion with God. The steady small annoyances are more damaging then we give them credit for.
I hope you have places and times you’re able to escape – a place you go to release and refuel.
If you feel like you’re spinning your wheels, expending more energy than you regenerate – you might be ready for a lane change. Look up. Someone just might be inviting you to his peaceful waters.
(Please visit the Comment Box and share your thoughts with us.)
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