:: in.a.mirror.dimly ::

Standing on top of a mountain looking down on the Northumberland Straight at Cape Breton Nova Scotia did something to me. When you’re a tiny bug of a person on a wild mountain with moose roaming about, clouds shrouding the sun, and waves rippling the vast sea below, you notice something about yourself.

I could do nothing to change the mountain, sea, or sky on my own from the little speck of dirt beneath my feet. I was helpless and at the mercy of my surroundings. Everything was large and powerful except for me.

Walking down the wooden steps to the various lookout points I felt dizzy at times, while other moments I felt the crushing power of my surroundings.

It was the perfect experience for the first few days of our vacation. In a sense, this holy moment on the mountain drove home the insignificance of my own worries, ambitions, and desires. They have their place, but they had been consuming me to the point of idolatry of some sort.

Perhaps this sense of awe and power is why God often met with his prophets up on mountains. The perspective is enlightening in and of itself. Hidden away in a cave or a snug valley, the effect on pondering one’s limitations is quite blunted.

On my way down the mountain I began praying the most important prayer I know that is also the easiest to forget: “Lord, what do you desire?” Throughout my vacation, as I’m sure I shall be for the rest of my life, I moved between this prayer of submission and my petitions.

I need to bring my petitions to God, but nothing quite puts them into perspective like a trip to a mountain top. From that mountain top I can see my plans and worries as mere specs in God’s creation, and once I receive the blow to my own ego, there is a comfort in knowing he can handle these larger matters, and as such, my own concerns are well within his abilities.

Last week I had a very difficult time discerning God’s will. We had a big decision to make, and it’s hard to say what exactly happened. However, by the time the smoke cleared, my understanding of prayer changed in a significant way.

Prayer usually works for me like this: I need X, and so I pray about X. I surrender X to God, and ask God to take care of X for me.

I think I’m right about trying to hold loosely to whatever my prayer requests are. While I bring my needs to God and try to remain open to however he may lead, I’m learning that prayer isn’t all about arriving at an answer or solution.

I thought I had a sense of God’s direction for my own X last week, but then circumstances threw me for a loop. I realized that the solution for X, the solution that I thought I held loosely, was not going to work. Confused, I didn’t quite know what to do next.

At some point in the next 24 hours, my X was solved in an unexpected way, and I had peace about it. But what exactly happened?

I’m not quite sure, but I think God is still teaching me to seek him and not just solutions to my problems. This has been a common thread for me in the past year. I was so focused on a solution and the peace that I didn’t give too much thought to the state of my relationship with God throughout the week.

In fact, I measured my connection with God based on his reply to X. In the grand scheme of things, my problems should not determine how I relate to God. They are important, but my primary goal in prayer is to meet with the Lord, not to make my life neat and tidy.

That’s a tough lesson to learn when you have the ear of the Creator of the Universe.

To read the Gospels and Acts without any preconceptions, you’d think that healings and miracles are an integral, if not essential part of Christianity. If there are miracles and healings, then God is at work.

At some point along the way someone decided that miracles were not all that important for Christianity and that the hey day of miracles was long past in the apostolic age. Some have argued that these special manifestations of God’s power are now gone.

I used to think that too. Show me someone who claimed the ability to heal or to have been healed, and I’d show you someone a few fruits short of a loop.

And then one day a missionary spoke in our college about a man who was healed of a crippling condition. He tossed his crutch aside, and this missionary picked it up and keeps it in his office as a reminder.

He seemed like a pretty normal guy, and so I began to wonder…

Another missionary came to my school and told the story of several young native men in Papua New Guinea who ran out of gas in their motor boat hours away from home while picking her up. They were stranded in the wild without a back up plan.

These young men prayed, pulled the rip cord, and then motored all the way to their village without a drop of gas. I marveled at their faith, and began to wonder about my own.

Here’s the thing with miracles and healing: they’re pretty challenging for our faith. If God doesn’t come through for us, we fear the effects of doubt and disappointment. Such prayers for the miraculous must be made with sensitivity to the will of God, believing in his power, and yet, still remembering that our requests may not be answered for one reason or another.

It’s all quite difficult to sort out, and I understand why a world without a miraculous, healing God is a bit easier to stomach. And yet, there was this one time…

One time a friend of ours, who is quite gifted in the Holy Spirit and ministers in ways that were unknown to me, prayed over me and healed my leg one day. I watched it happen. I can’t deny it. 

God healed me. Why? I don’t know. How? Not sure.

I am certain that I’d been reading the Gospels with a blind eye to the miracles and healings that are so important to the ministry of Jesus. I can’t say what such ministry should look like today, but we should not rule it out. God is up to a lot more than we’d expect, and it took several Christians from different cultures, denominations, and backgrounds to open my eyes to the present power of God here on earth.

The other day I was bringing my requests to God. I had a lot of them. It’s been a roller coaster of a year with it’s fair share of set backs and confusion.

I was making sure God knew about all of that.

What was I thinking? Of course he knew all of that. I realized that I had a very silly and limited view of God. While I needed to let go of these matters and entrust them to his care, my prayers that morning treated all of my requests as fresh news to him, as if he might fall off his throne with surprise at what I had to say.

No, God was not shocked. And so, if I didn’t need to spend too much time filling him in on everything, what should I do with my prayer time? I didn’t have too much to talk about when I cut my suggestion list short.

That was a bad sign.

I’ve been reading the Psalms lately. It’s been good for me to read about the majesty and power of God. It’s also a nice cheat sheet on how to pray. I could steal the Psalmist prayers.

As I meditated on my reading from that morning, I thought of a question: “God, what do you want?”

I’m sure I’ve thought of this before, but the question just about knocked me over. Good thing I was sitting on the floor. After asking that question I sensed the joy of God. Something opened and I sensed that God was up to something.

I had changed my focus from myself to him, and that has made all the difference.

I am a citizen of the Kingdom of God and a disciple of Jesus before anything else. As such, I am compelled to remember the soldiers of all sides and the victims of all wars. To this end…

I pray that one day war will become extinct, that our soldiers will only be used to maintain peace and stability in the world, and that no veteran will ever suffer from post traumatic stress disorder or return home with injuries that receive inadequate treatment.

I pray that we will find ways to build up nations around the world who would otherwise become our enemies and that no civilians will ever again be caught in the cross-fire of bullets or fall victim to a rain of bombs.

I pray that veterans and active duty soldiers will heal mentally and physically and that their families will be protected.

I pray that our conflicts overseas will soon be peacefully resolved and that our soldiers can return home safely to their families.

I pray that all of the disciples of Jesus will meditate on what it means to love their enemies and will follow God’s lead no matter what the consequences may be.

I pray that soldiers of past conflicts will never be vilified unjustly, nor the conflicts glorified unrealistically.

I pray for God’s forgiveness for the unjust actions our nation has taken and the suffering we have brought to others.

I pray for soldiers who daily face difficult, life-changing decisions and require God’s wisdom.

I pray that our government will give up on war as a means to any end, that our soldiers will be spared from future conflict and suffering, and that we would reach peaceful resolutions with our enemies.

I pray that above all else, that the Good News of Jesus as Lord will trump any political, national, or personal goals. I ask that his Kingdom will come into our lives and that we will live as its ambassadors.

This week I’m posting on a series of books that proved particularly life-changing for myself. They are ordered according to the chronology of my own experiences with them, and I am focusing in particular on the ones that still come to mind in my day-to-day life. I’ll begin with A Celebration of Discipline.

I ran into Richard Foster’s classic A Celebration of Discipline while in college. I dabbled with it a little bit while I was dating my soon-to-be wife and mentioned to her that I thought I could benefit from a little more discipline in my life.

Heck. OK, I was totally smitten by her and really needed some help keeping it together during our long-distance relationship. Fresh out of my teen years I craved discipline, a deeper spirituality, and fellowship with God. She bought me Foster’s book for my birthday.

I eagerly dove into Foster’s book and discovered a God I could delight in while denying myself. Foster showed me a way to pursue Christ without straying into performance Christianity or legalism.

At a time in my life when I soon left my friends from college, struggled to adjust to life back at home, and set the course for the rest of my life through seminary and beyond, I took great comfort in the practices of Christianity as described by Foster. Those years of my life were certainly turbulent and very emotional, but Foster provided a series of anchors.

Many Christians today know more about business gurus and other secular trends than Christian tradition, and that makes me terribly sad. In addition, many churches want to learn from the best of the business world, organizing their churches according to the top wisdom of this world.

While I see the logic in that, I’d much rather belong to a church that’s a bit more disorganized and a lot more plugged in to the disciplines that have stood the test of time for good reason rather than whatever tops the bestseller list for a few weeks before being sent to the bargain bin or the pulping factory. Richard Foster is one author who can help the church today cultivate the inner life with God’s Holy Spirit that we need.

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.