No Restrictions. No Expiration Date.

 

During the years of World War 2, Corrie ten Boom and her family hid about 800 Jewish people in their home. They were imprisoned for their resistance activities. Only Corrie survived.  After the war, this elderly Dutch watchmaker faithfully testified about God and her experience as a concentration camp survivor.

In an old wobbly broadcast I found on YouTube, Corrie then in her 80s spoke about meeting an older gentleman who came to one of her talks, three decades after the war, having recognized the name ten Boom. 

 “I had a teacher named ten Boom when I was seven.  Was that you?”  he asked her.

“No,” she replied.  “That was my older sister.”   

“Well, I was in her class,” the white-haired man said.

And suddenly Corrie remembered when she was about twelve or thirteen, her older sister Betsie taught school in their hometown of Haarlem in the Netherlands.  Betsie came home at night, and asked her family to pray for her class of seven and eight year old boys and girls, not for better behavior or doing their schoolwork, but for their spiritual well-being.  And now, seventy years later, here was one of those little boys with all those prayers from so long ago still sticking to him.  God was still drawing that seven-year-old boy to Himself.

We all-too-often shortchange the act of praying.  Prayer is not limited to immediate requests nor to what we consider timely answers. Once committed to prayer, God’s responses continue to pour in.

Praying creates a space, not just for God to work, but for us to understand that He is unfolding His purposes.  And when we come before Him to pray, we cannot even number His wonders in unlikely places and unexpected ways, even in matters we cannot yet see -- maybe especially in what we cannot yet see. We have no idea what sticks – or to whom. 

My husband often uses a product called tenacious tape to repair damaged outdoor gear.  That strong adhesive sticks and adheres to basically about anything, grasping tightly, holding the rips and wounds together, avoiding further damage, and not readily relinquishing its grip.  What if we prayed like that?

Tenacious prayer does not stubbornly insist on its own way -- telling God how and when to answer -- adhering not to circumstances but aligning our hearts to His.  Sticky prayers change us in the very process of praying.  Our hearts are not stuck on a certain outcome or answer.  But realizing  the Almighty has a firm hold on us, far beyond our lifetimes, impacting even those yet unborn who come after us.  God is not about to let go.  Our prayers are not tenacious.  But God is.

Tenacity is an outward form of God's faithfulness.

Seventy years had passed, prayers long forgotten, but in that very moment, Corrie remembered holding hands with her family, praying nightly for children they mostly didn't know.  And now, an answer to her family's prayers was standing in front of her, in flesh and blood.  On the surface, it appeared that it took a long time for him to get there.  But not really. Prayer comes with no restrictions and no expiration date.  God is right on time.  He always is, even when we don't realize it.  He is not the one who forgets.

Would we pray differently if we knew our prayers would be yet reverberating seventy years from now, or even lingering long after we have forgotten what we prayed about?   It is not that those prayers have gone unanswered, but are not yet completed.

The other day while running in the woods, I was visually captured by the fresh green of spring all around me.  Many bushes along the path were covered in tightly-wrapped buds, standing straight and upright at attention, as if waiting for a signal to bloom.  It was not time yet.  Like so many prayers, their beauty and fragrance were ready and waiting to burst forth.  But not just yet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Almighty unfolds His wonders, unrestricted by our meager vocabulary, not limited by time, but set into motion for all eternity, backwards and forwards, upside down and right-side up, immensely beyond our understanding, vision, or lifetimes.   

In prayer, God invites us into His marvelous, creative and sovereign work.  We adhere our prayers to His will --that which we comprehend and that which we cannot.  He does the heavy-lifting.  God completes our prayers in unexpected ways.  God glues together the prayers of the saints – even yours and mine—over the scope of all eternity.

With what are we coming before Him today-- seventy years in the making?

But for You, O LORD, do I wait;  

it is You, O Lord my God, who will answer.  

                               Psalm 38. 15

When Being Comfortable Is Not The Point

 

The big state testing starts today at the elementary school.  For most kids, it is no big deal.  For teachers, mostly just an annoyance and disruption in actually getting to teach these kids. 

But for this little grandson missing his two front teeth, it is like facing Goliath empty-handed and alone.  He is overwhelmed before he even enters the room.  So many pages of questions stare him in the face.  So little time.  Hurry, hurry.

What if I don’t know the answer?  What if I don’t finish in time?  For him, it is not about being the best.  He always does his best.  But what if that is not enough?  The big what-ifs cast huge scary shadows.  What if he’s last?  What if he’s the only one left?  Hurry, hurry.  And that absolutely paralyzes him, like the Israelites staring the hordes of Assyrians rushing towards them in full battle gear.  Run for your life, and you discover your shoe laces are tied together.

I want to tell him that this test does not define him.  Someday, he won’t even remember this.  But for him to know that God loves him and has amazing plans for his life to bring Him glory.  And nothing will stop that.

I want him to hear the Almighty’s words:

Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the LORD your God is with you wherever you go.  Joshua 1. 9

 “Do not fear.  I am with you.”  God is faithful.  Even today.  Even in this.

All I can do is pray for him today.  And to let him know-- no matter what --that nothing can separate him from the love of Jesus.  God does not just show up.  God is bringing him through.

As a second grader, may he learn that, and know that, and never forget that. 

But what are we facing today?  Even us big kids face dilemmas and hard stuff in all kinds of monster costumes. We cry out in our prayers, “God, I can’t do this.” 

And He replies, “Good.  Because I can.  Lean on Me.”  God pours His strength all over it.  We walk with Him one step at a time.  We are not alone. He has a strong hold on us.

Fear minimizes our eyesight and confuses our hearts.

Recently I was faced with a daunting situation.  I prayed, “God, I am just not comfortable or at peace about this.” 

And instead of a soothing empty answer, I felt like God was saying, “I don’t want you to feel comfortable or competent in this.”  Because if we are comfortable, we don’t rely on Him.  We pray less.  We don’t even acknowledge His presence, and we take the credit.  God did not give me a soothing answer.  He gave me His strength. 

God always wants something more for us than we see at the moment.  And something very different than our feeble ideas we contrive without coming before Him.

When we respond to God, He leads us in ways and in places we have not been before.  Not to the “right answer” but to Him

When we are following the Lord, there will almost always come a point of wondering if we made a wrong turn, or we don’t know the answers, or not finishing in time.  That’s when trusting God comes in.  That’s when we know we are not on our own.  Nor ever meant to be. 

For we are powerless

against this great horde

     that is coming against us.

We do not know what to do,

but our eyes are on You.

            2 Chronicles 20. 12

Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep

The end of the day has finally come.  Work has ceased or stacked up, waiting for tomorrow.

But then, we wonder why we can't get to sleep -- or wake up in the night as if an incessant alarm arouses us.  Our problem is getting into bed without closing out the day.  

Our thoughts still racing down the interstate highway.  And we realize that we have come to bed fully clothed, hiking boots tied on tight, carrying our cares in an enormous backpack with us.  And there is not any space in bed or for our hearts to rest at all.   Like loud preschoolers, Anxiety and her annoying brother Worry clamor around the edges of our mattress, looking for us to stir. "She's awake!" they shout, and climb into bed with us.

We obviously haven't gotten ready for bed.  We've brought everything with us.  Not much room for sleep.

We need to lay all these things down first. And of course, no better place than at the feet of Jesus.

At night, as a little girl, I remember saying nightly prayers.  Yes, it was a habit, often accompanied by a little Sunday School song.  But praying that way established a pattern for sleep and verbally recognized the Almighty with me, as if He were sitting silently by my little bed.  My grandmother and I knelt on the floor, prayed our little prayers, and I slipped into bed as she slipped out of the room, covered by His protection and peace.  It then was so easy to trust Him when I could hear mom and dad and my grandmother still moving around downstairs.  And is it not still easy to trust Him, knowing that He is still moving and working and singing over us?

We can sleep because God does not.  He is on watch.  Behold, He who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.  Psalm 121. 4

Do we slip off to bed without even saying goodnight to God?  Have we left Him waiting, after seeking His help all the day?  Did we even say thank You?  It was a hard day, or a great day, but He was with us.  And at night, He still is.

As a very little girl, I was terrified by a very real lion crouching under my bed, a furry epitome of fear.  That ferocious beast was ready to pounce at my slightest movement.  

But what if I had thought instead of another powerful lion -- the Lion of Judah-- right there awake and protecting me?  And that would be Jesus, strong and kind.

In its nightly compline, first published in 1549, The Book of Common Prayer gives us a refreshing vocabulary to recite and repeat:  Lighten our darkness, we beseech thee, O Lord; and by thy great mercy defend us from all perils and dangers of this night; for the love of thy only Son, our Saviour, Jesus Christ. Amen.

And God says to us, "All you have to do is ask. I'm already here." 

When I wake in the night, it is often the things undone that hover over me.  Not that I haven't done enough, but perhaps instead, not come before God with this chaos, or awkward burdens, or --gasp-- wrongdoing.  

Things I needed to talk out with God in the daylight often come knocking at night.

In peace I will both lie down and sleep;

for You alone, O LORD,

make me dwell in safety.  

                             Psalm 4.8

It is a peace that only God can provide, both within and without.

So it is not just that I will rest and sleep, not just be blessed physically, but refreshed and strengthened spiritually to be a blessing to others, bring something different into the new day, even in an old familiar situation, no matter what God unfolds in the course of the day.

I lay down and slept.  I woke again,

       for the LORD sustained me.

I will not be afraid of many thousands of people

    who have set themselves against me all around.

                              Psalm 3. 5-6

And sometimes it takes us praying it through, talking it out with God, to realize our fears are just imagined -- really big shadows that dissolve in the light.  Or how to approach and navigate them, even if they are real. "Do not be afraid.  I am with you."

This blog Nightlytea was originally named after the time when our two younger daughters were in high school.  After cross country practice, showers, supper, and homework, a little pocket of time would emerge, a gap between school subjects, or a need for a break.  We would wander into the kitchen, and over a cup of nightly tea, we would discuss the day, what was hard, what was good, and how we saw God redeem what often appeared as a series of unfortunate events.

What if we said good night to God?  What if we let Him tuck us in?  What would we say to Him at the closing of the day? How would praying impact our rest?  And how would that change how we approach tomorrow? 

Then Jacob awoke from his sleep and said,
"Surely the LORD is in this place, and I did not know it."

                       Genesis 28. 16