:: in.a.mirror.dimly ::

I have a prayer request. It’s kind of a big deal. I can’t get into the details until things get settled, but rest assured, it’s a large burden that only makes other burdens feel heavier.

And so I’m praying about it. I’m asking others to pray about it. What am I asking God to do about it? “Make it go away.”

I want God to deliver us, to settle the situation, and to help us move on with our lives. We’ve worried about this long enough.

A few months ago we received some encouraging words from fellow Christians about this situation: God had it under control. Things are going to work out. God is with us.

It’s kind of been quiet since then.

And really, I shouldn’t complain. I mean, Noah spent a good year locked up in the ark without so much as a peep from God. I’m sure he kept thinking this flood can’t go on yet another day? Can it?

Oh, it can.

And so I was driving home last night and praying about this… this… thing. I’m trying to let go. I’m trying to seek first the Kingdom of God and his righteousness. However, when you have something as big as this staring you in the face, you can’t help but notice it. It’s in the way.

God spoke to me last night. It wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear.

“Do you want me or do you just want me to make this go away?”

To be perfectly honest, I felt like saying, “Make this go away, and then we can talk.”

Agh.

Today I am very humbled by my attitude. I wouldn’t want to waste a perfectly good trial by not drawing near to God in the midst of it.

The following post is part of the series organized by Christine Sine on spiritual practices.

It’s been two weeks since we made the move to Connecticut. Today I cut apart the last of the boxes in our living room, leaving only 3 in our bedroom out of those which still need to be unpacked.

Our futon frame arrived today and we’ll be shopping for a mattress this weekend.

We’ve been kayaking in the Long Island Sound twice, the UConn Dairy Bar once, and Diana’s Pool at least four times. I’ve been to Home Depot and Aldi twice. On our way back from Diana’s Pool there’s a nice guy with a huge garden and a tiny farm stand where we buy corn, cucumbers, and peppers. Just down the road from him is a lady with pick-your-own blueberries.

In short, we’re settling in.

There’s no semblance of a routine yet. And that is where I can run into trouble. For me, my spiritual life thrives on routines. Whether taking a walk in the evening, reading the Bible at breakfast, or praying before bed, the nature of a move into a new place, new lifestyle, and new routine can throw spiritual practices into a dead halt.

I used to hang out in the garden at our last house digging out weeds, cultivating tomatoes, and harvesting batches of lettuce. There were lessons to learn about patience and attentiveness, while mucking around in the dirt freed my mind to roam wherever God may lead. I often took walks in the evening either before or after my time in the garden.

After being uprooted, I’m now working on carving out a walk in the morning, some semblance of a Bible study around breakfast time, and hope to figure out some more time for prayer and reading. I never realized how dramatically my routines are tied to my spiritual condition. It’s as if I didn’t know where to set down my spiritual roots.

I’m working on taking some steps forward now. The sooner I establish some healthy spiritual routines, the better. They serve as anchors for my day, rest stops and recharging times that reorient me to God’s values and desires.

It’s no mistake that many prayer practices are rooted in seeking God at particular times of the day. These carved out blocks of time provide the regular spiritual recharging that one would expect from three meals a day.

On the other end of a move where my routines and regular practices are disrupted, such lessons scream out. While it has been essential to unpack boxes, find farm stands, and seek out local stores, it is just as important for my spiritual life to take root again in a new soil. In the midst of a move there is too much to do, to figure out, and to set up.

A key part of moving is setting up a solid spiritual routine where practices such as prayer, scripture reading, and meditation can find a peaceful place to flourish, even if the to-do list is growing and boxes loom in the next room.

I have a strong sense of late that prayer should be regularly made on behalf of others. So many days it seems like I’m either quieting myself to listen to God or asking for what I need: patience, love, generosity, peace, and faith.

The more I look around, the more I realize that life isn’t about simply making it through another day. I have contact with a wide variety of people in various situations. Some are really hurting right now. Whether family, friends, or people I meet in town, I’ve been realizing that as a Christian, a follower of Jesus, I don’t have the luxury of dropping back into my own little bubble.

As I thought about what I could do to help them, it came to mind that the place to start is prayer. I’ll be doing more than prayer in some cases, but there is no doubt that prayer must play an integral part.

I feel like my prayer radar is now a bit more acute. I’m learning to stop focusing on my own problems, something that will no doubt be a life-long struggle, and to pray for the people around me. Just learning that each day isn’t something to endure has helped. I’m praying for the positive side of that to become true in my life.

I had a pile of Christmas cards, thank you notes, and a literary agreement bundled up for the post office this morning. I forgot to swing by the office in my hometown, so I dropped in at another one in the next town over on my way to the cafe this morning. I ended up receiving a stark reality check.

I’ve been thinking about chapter ideas for my next book and spending a bit of time in worship this morning, but when I arrived at the post office I overheard one clerk say to the other, “He’s on the phone with the hospital because he has chest pains.” I saw the post master walking to the back room with the phone to his ear. The clerk in front of me told me all I needed to know through her eyes that bore the marks of terror, pain, and heart-ache.

I had a really brief transaction, so I got out of her way but then realized I had a moment to pray. In fact, God brought me to that spot at that time to pray. I was so grateful that God wanted to use me to pray for his kingdom to come to this man, asking for safety and healing.

It’s so incredibly easy to ignore these moments when I’m wrapped up in my goals and plans. Just stopping to pray for this man made me realize that while God may have plans for my career, that’s no excuse to ignore the needs I see every day. And just taking that time to pray made me realize I was doing the most important thing in the world at that moment–praying for God’s loving touch on another person. I’m shocked by how stingy I can be with blessings.

On days like today I realize my default orientation is insular and self-serving. God is pushing his people outward, sending us out of our protective inner circles to those who are broken and in need. I pray that we can continue to take these steps each day.

While praying at the local Taize service last night I had a little nudge from God, a small voice saying, “Receive my love.”

My first response?

“But God I’m still such a sinful selfish mess.”

After all these years of reading the Bible and following Jesus, the simple act of receiving God’s love, grace, and forgiveness is still rather hard at times. While God doesn’t just sweep our sins under the carpet, he doesn’t want us wallowing in them, beating ourselves up, alienating ourselves from his love and grace.

I tried to let go. I tried to step away from who I thought I was and tried to hear what God thought of me. It was a relief, a refreshing relief.

In an instant I realized that so much of my life is spent in a futile effort to be good, loving, and kind. And then John 4 came to mind, the part where Jesus tells the woman that those who believe in him will have living water bubbling up within them and overflowing.

I’ve been cranking away at the well of my soul, pumping up drops of water–hardly enough for myself let alone for those around me. But God wants to drill deep in where his Spirit resides and sent his life and love gushing up into and out of me.

If only we could believe how much God loves us.

Technorati Tags: theology – prayer

“Your kingdom come, your will be done…”

“Give us this day our daily bread…”

“And forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us…”

“And Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.”

I’ve been a little selective here, but these lines from the prayer known as the Our Father have been rather significant in my life lately. I find myself praying them at work, driving through town, walking into the book store, and hanging out at home.

Sometimes a set prayer becomes something to parrot and simply get out of the way, having performed a holy obligation. Lately though the Our Father has been a helpful way to redirect my focus, to get myself on the same page with God, and to spark additional prayers.

The Our Father covers quite a bit of ground, including the importance of seeking first the Kingdom of God, combating consumerism by asking God to provide what we need for today, initiating a cycle of repentance and forgiveness, and asking God for protection in our struggle against evil. What a great prayer. It covers so much of what we face every day.

Sometimes the best things are right under our nose, the well-worn, over-used routines that are truly precious, but overlooked in favor of perhaps a cleaner, glittering prayer or method of meditation. Oddly enough, when Jesus’ disciples asked him to teach them how to pray, he delivered.