Pray What You Mean. Mean What You Pray.

We start meetings with prayer.  We end meetings with prayer.  Because that is what we do. And the middle, well, that is where the substance is supposed to be.  The meat.  The main course.  Until it isn’t. 

It was the most ordinary of ordinary chapel talks in the middle of an ordinary week.  Yes, probably, some students scrolled on their phones or snoozed in their seats, waiting for the Amen and lunch to follow. 

Even the speaker thought he had bombed his talk. Nothing witty or monumental.  He was, after all, just the assistant coach of the men’s soccer team.  Few positions rank lower than that.

He finished with prayer, as all such chapel services must end.  The worship team didn’t really even listen to his concluding words, getting their instruments and mikes ready for a final song…and then go out for lunch together as was their custom.

He prayed something like this:  “Holy Spirit, if You spoke to anyone…would you produce fruit in this room, in these souls, in these minds and these hearts?  Do a new thing in our midst.  Revive us by Your love. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”

Words from his heart.

A final song.  The platform emptied, the crowds dispersed ….except for about 18 students who stayed behind to pray.  One young man told his story of repentance and coming to faith.  And then, as one young woman who was there said, the atmosphere suddenly shifted and things began to change. 

Other students drifted back into the chapel.  And then a few more.  The worship band, now back from lunch, began to play again. Worship broke out.  And lasted for weeks.

The extraordinary came through the door, occupied every pew, and flowed down the aisles.

It started with a prayer.  It always does.  And God delights to surprise us.  Again.

The young speaker had no idea when he prayed those words “revive us” what God was up to, and how God would grab that request and run with it. 

The revival of Asbury College 2023 did not just happen.  Not just an emotional response to a powerful sermon, but a spiritual awakening from the Holy Spirit, after what the speaker considered a rather mediocre talk. No one saw it coming.

But this week, I met and spoke to a young woman, freshly graduated from Asbury only a few years ago.  The outbreak did not surprise her.  “We had always heard about the revival at Asbury way back in 1970.  The whole time I was a student there, we prayed for it to come again.”

The chapel speaker simply tied up the service with prayer.  Are we even aware of what we pray?  Of the power of the LORD that wraps itself around our prayers?  Are we sensitive to the seriousness of praying to the Almighty? Do we have any idea what God does with fervent prayer?

The prayer of the righteous has great power as it is working.  James 5. 16

So then why are we amazed when God unfolds something like this?

Pray what you mean.  Mean what you pray.

We should not be surprised that God “answers” prayer, but how He responds, in ways far beyond our expectations and never in singular outcomes.  It is not that our prayers are more powerful than we know, but God is.  It is not that we make things happen by praying, but God who responds.

Through prayer, God invites us into His mighty work and the wonders of the universe.

“Where there is such prevailing prayer, something is bound to happen,” wrote Corrie ten Boom in her little book Amazing Love in 1953.

And amazement seized them all,

    and they glorified God

    and were filled with awe, saying,

“We have seen extraordinary things today.”

                                   Luke 5. 26

And all God’s people said, “Wow!”

Pray that way.

 

Sliced Kiwi, Two Plastic Bags of Bagels, and a Six-Pack of Glazed Donuts

Last Saturday, the women at the church held a potluck brunch, designed hand-in-hand with a service project.  A long banqueting table of rough wood stood in the center of the room, set up to gather the food as women arrived one by one, bearing edible gifts.  Soon another table had to be set up to accommodate even more contributions to the abundant feast.

I was amazed at the variety of platters and bowls, the creativity in how the food was artistically arranged, and even in the vastness of what was brought to the table:  big bowls of colorful fruit, a large green salad, and a parade of egg casseroles of every imaginable flavor including one topped with tater tots.  Some women brought plastic bags of bagels and store-bought donuts, crackers and hummus.  One woman grasped the opportunity to try a new recipe, a made-from-scratch blueberry buckle, slices of which disappeared even before the blessing.  Aromatic muffins, sausage roll-ups, cinnamon rolls, and even cute little heart-shaped pink pancakes filled in the gaps.

Every woman contributed in one form or another.  And in her own little way.  Somehow, as potlucks mysteriously do, the meal melded together with each added dish.  Once again God’s fundamental law of leftovers was manifested with the proverbial twelve baskets to take home. 

Each woman saw the opportunity a little differently.  And that completed the meal.

We all came together, filling and fulfilling different needs, desires and hungers.  Some arrived with more artistic touches, some with the practical, others with a healthy intent, and those who spread icing until it dripped over the sides.

That is what community looks like, nurturing each other through our own unique giftedness.

And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.    Hebrews 10. 24-25

We stir up one another, not just to do and pursue, but to bring something different to the table, encouraging each other in ways beyond our comprehension.

We all also bring something different to prayer. When there is a need or opportunity to pray, we each pray with a little different perspective, vision, passion and compassion.  We approach prayer with hearts that have been healed, tweaked and transformed through many wounds and wonders.   And that brings a multi-faceted completion to how we come to the Father.  With tears and rejoicing, praying the practical, or words too deeply felt to be spoken, seeing every dimension of the need with eyes of different colors and mended hearts, we pray in our places in awe of who the Almighty is and what He can do.

God aligns our hearts in ways so we can respond personally.  I’ll pray differently than the person next to me.  We see a lot more of God’s glory that way.  And it enlarges the scope of our prayers.  When it comes down to it, there will be not a singular voice of praise, but a chorus. We all get to rejoice and share in what God unfolds before us, and always in that which extends far beyond our lifetimes.   

When we choose not to pray, we all miss out. 

Praying together, we encompass a need from all sides, every angle and square inch covered, each one of us carrying a pound or two of someone else’s burden, each one seeing how God is working, and each one sharing in His glory. 

May we bring our prayers to the storehouse and the altar.  May we pull up our chairs and come together to the table.  May we join in what is now and what is to come. No matter how the situation takes shape, His grace is deeply embedded in the feast.  We ultimately love others by praying for them.  And His glory overflows to embrace us as well.

 And who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this?   Esther 4. 14

That’s why God put us here.

Here to pray.  Here to be faithful in our own little ways.

And God brings His triumph to it, not just in a few visible crumbs, but a feast in extraordinary proportions.

Happy Valentine's Day

The other day, one of our six-year-old grandsons was so excited to show me his paper lunchbag sack of valentines -- not ones that he had received, but those that were ready to hand out to his first-grade classmates.  He had been working hard, not just signing his name on each one, but addressing and personalizing each one by name.

And today, as he distributes each one at the class party, not forgetting or bypassing anyone in his class, he will have a smile on his face and joy in his heart.  That is just the kind of kid he is.

I don't think he cares --or maybe even expects-- getting valentines from anyone else.  His delight is in the giving.

I treasure his generous heart.  I cherish his reminder about loving others.  

God did not invent Valentine's Day.  But He created love.  And showed us what love looks like through the life of Jesus.  

We love because

      He first loved us.

          1 John 4. 19

And that love for one another extends far beyond a holiday in February.

Beloved,  if God so loved us,

we also ought to love one another.

                  1 John 4. 11

What does that look like livestreamed today? In all that we do and all we pursue. Personalized for others.

                  Just because we can.

Lifting Things Up

Pre-covid, I began taking a light weight lifting class a couple of times a week at our YMCA.  I was reluctant to even try at first, indeed arriving early to the class to stake out a mat in the farthest back row.  I was intimidated by the weights I observed others lifting in time to the music.  My grace was that I realized no one was watching me.

I was skeptical, but I tried.  I kept coming back.

Session after session, I struggled to keep up with the pace and the movements choreographed to upbeat music, far beyond my own out-of-sync coordination.  Other members of the class continually added weights to their bars in the course of the hour.  I could barely lift what little I had. It appeared I was not doing anything productive at all.  But one elderly woman next to me just moved her arms without any weights at all.  She gave me hope.

One session as we were putting away our equipment, I had decided to quit.  This was not doing anything for me.  I was done. No more classes for me.  And as the group began streaming out of the room, the instructor called out loud to us: 

You are stronger now than when you came.

Her words replayed over and over in my head. They still do.  Those consistent exercises were not a waste after all.  We were building strength, even if we didn’t realize it, day by day, a little stronger.  We could not remain unchanged by it.

Nor can we remain the same when we pray.  We are conversing with the Almighty, seeking Him, asking Him to align our hearts with His.  The more we pray, the more we are changed by it.  God builds His strength in us. The experience even begins to change what we pray, how we pray, and when we pray. 

Do not despise these small beginnings, for the LORD rejoices to see the work begin.  Zechariah 4. 10

By praying, we begin approaching situations differently.  Did it even occur to us to pray about that before?  We see both joys and difficulties with a new heart.  We lift up others, a little more weight at a time. And find God does the heavy lifting. We come more freely before the Lord.  We are no longer bound by “getting answers,” or finding solutions, or seeing His hand.  We more quickly and deeply pray, because God is why we pray.  We pray right here in this appointed place, on this sacred ground, and in His sovereign territory.  And we go into our day, changed, catching perhaps a glimpse of what we haven’t before.  Not focused on “a reason” for this.  But His glory. 

You are stronger now than before you prayed.

Prayer can’t help but change us.  He is guiding us to Himself.

“The only way to pray is to pray, and the way to pray well is to pray much.”

                              --Dom John Chapman, as quoted by Henri Nouwen in The Road To Daybreak

 

View from the Other Side

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The heron just suddenly appeared on the edge of the water, right next to the crumbling concrete boat ramp by the dam, obviously looking for fish, I surmised.  

He stood on the gravel, as if anticipating the feel of bone-chilling cold water, deep in winter.  He just stood there like a beautiful molded bronze sculpture in this section of the river.  Not moving at all.  But his eyes were roving, not missing a thing.  He knew I was there.  He saw those men who were fishing away off, up to their waists in their voluminous waders.  Nothing went unnoticed.

He maintained his strategic position for a very long time.  And then, slowly and silently, he entered into the shallows.  He was neither reluctant nor shy.  He knew exactly what he was doing.

Once again, he just stood there, motionless.  He was certainly not in a rush.  He didn't seem to care if he caught anything at all.  Or, at least, that is how it appeared.

I sat a little further back, alongside the boat ramp, my small camp chair nestled in the gravel, the sky so blue, the radiance of the sun warming my legs, bathed in the music of the spheres, watching my husband not catching fish on this incredibly mild February afternoon.  I'm not sure he cared.  Nor did I.

We were caught up in the awe of the Creation as if we had front-row seats.  It only appeared on the outside of things that we were not doing anything productive at all.  But time is not measured by what is accomplished -- but, of course, all kinds of other making are constantly going on, mostly profound, mostly of which we are unaware.  "Nothing is for naught," my grandmother always noted.  I used to wonder where she got so much joy in the every day stuff of life, even as she shuffled around on her arthritic legs.  Nothing went unnoticed.

The late afternoon sun filtered through the bare trees.  The heron stood in the silent shallow waters, fully cognizant of the awe around him.  

I had a backpack with me, full of work to be done. There was so much I needed to do yesterday.  But this scene before me unfolded into the most needful of all.

Be still.  Whether I am waiting in line, or in a waiting room, or waiting for the water to boil, to not waste that precious time, but to sit, stand, breathe a little deeper, and be still.  The Lord our God has woven His glory even into familiar moments and His greatness into our days.  Waiting is not always about a gap when something is about to happen.   Not a pause, but a continual revealing.

Being still and knowing His Presence, even in the unexpected, even in what only appears as ordinary, sitting on a boat ramp by the dam, not a fish in sight, a magnificent bird waiting with me. 

He makes me lie down in green pastures.  

He leads me beside still waters.  

                                     Psalm 23. 2

There is a deep purpose in that.  Watch for Me.  Watch with Me.

"So what did you do today?" someone asked me.

Far more than I expected.  

                       God multiplies.

If It's Going To Be Different, Something Has To Change

If we realized how profoundly significant prayer was to our relationship with God, our well-being, and our response to the world, would we forget to pray?

In a live interview with pastor and author Tim Keller in December 2022, Keller was asked what he wished he had done differently in his fifty years of being in ministry.  Keller didn’t hesitate for a moment and replied, “Pray more.”

Not to make him more successful or help him through the midst of crises – of which there were many – but because Keller realized prayer nurtures his relationship with God.  God may change the situation, but through prayer, God changes us.

“I would have been a different pastor.”

In the midst of heavy ministry demands, Tim realized that he desired a deeper, stronger prayer life, but he knew if prayer was going to be different, something had to change. 

Tim and his wife Kathy began to pray together, every night, with no exceptions, in person or by phone, even when Tim traveled to other time zones around the globe.  They prayed.  But they also prayed together.

Prayer is not a magic pill to take every night.  Nor a “have to” obligation.  Nor a mindless habit like setting an alarm for morning. Nor the childlike repetition Now I lay me down to sleep… But prayer is coming before the Almighty with praises, thanks and concerns, rooted in love for God. The Kellers’ daily practice points out the vital importance of regular and consistent prayer, not just in crisis, but every day without exception.

That kind of prayer radically alters our hearts by enlarging what we see, what we know, and our relationship with the Almighty.  It goes far beyond what pastor and author Jack Miller calls “maintenance prayer,” sharing prayer requests among believers for physical well-being.  And breaks forth into “frontline prayer,” which “confesses sin, seeks humility, pursues the lost, and yearns to know God face-to-face, to encounter His glory.”

If our praying is going to be different, something has to change. Not just reacting to perceived crisis, nor responding to what we consider just an ordinary day, but coming before the Almighty as eternity unfolds in all His glory.

What if?  What if we prayed like that?

 

You have said, "Seek My face."

My heart says to You,

    "Your face, LORD, do I seek."

                            Psalm 27. 8