I've been a prayer wimp most of my life. Occasionally, I aspire to be a prayer warrior, waxing eloquent on the needs around me in such a way that my requests and appeals become coherent enough to reach God out there in something infinitely more vast, complex, and jammed in bandwidth than our mere modern cyberspace.
Most unfortunately, my aspirations last for a dismally short period of time and I return to short spurts, car contemplations, or rambling reflections in the middle of the night that make up the bulk of my prayer life. Part of the problem is that I am genetically related to the Martha of the New Testament, far more focused on doing than being, which makes meditation nothing less than a form of medieval torture in my world.
More seriously, I resist prayer because mine do not often have the flowing eloquence of many of those who stand beside me in church and because I lack true hope in their power. Like many an American, I secretly believe that God is too busy to listen to me; He surely must have His hands full with all the crazy ugliness going on in our modern world. Can you imagine counting the hairs on the heads of the seven billion human souls across the globe (Luke 12:7), valuing every single sparrow that flies on the planet along with the billions of other animals in need every day (Luke 12:6), and then still having time in the evening to check an Inbox crammed with the stumbling, scattered ramblings of all of us prayer wimps? Makes my head spin just thinking about it.
Like many a Christian, I am also perpetually confused and often discouraged by the prayers that are answered and those that are not, by the suffering that is allowed and that which is subverted, healed, or erased. If the data (prayers answered, those unanswered, those denied) look random, is not the process random? Does God just delegate His Inbox to a random number generator, a clever algorithm that provides sometimes but not others?
I do realize that, right now, while I can't see the face of God (Exodus 33:20), if I could, I can imagine Him shaking his head at me -- something I am sure He does quite often.
I often go down this (prayer wimp) road for quite a long time where I diminish the power of my own individual prayer and (very) effectively paralyze myself and my prayer life. Invariably, though, something will come up, either in my local sphere or in the world news that makes me wonder if God would really listen to a wimp like me:
Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you.
Assisted (mightily) by the Holy Spirit, I'll bite off the hope framed by this verse from Matthew (7:7), and will pray almost mightily for some time. Prayers for those close by, those whom I know and love, and who happen to love me back, are the easiest of prayers to write, to repeat, and to set on the fabric of my heart.
But, the hardest of all prayers are for those in the world who appear to be evil, uncaring, cold, or otherwise distant from both (true) Christian and my own values. Dwelling in who they are, learning more about their lives, trying to place myself in their shoes and heart, is hard at a level that extends well beyond my tendency to be lazy in meditation and prayer.
This seems to be the season in my life though, where I feel even more compelled to learn how to better dwell spiritually with, pray for, and cry for greater joy in the hearts of these people. It's more often on my heart now to look past what appears evil and try to understand the road to a brighter, lighter life for them and those whose lives they touch. In moments or on days when I can sincerely pray for those who hurt others, where I can put aside my judgements and truly understand that everyone has equal value before God, I embrace the hope that lives will be transformed and light rather than darkness will begin to ripple outward from the lives of some in the world who seem so well versed in hurting and anger and so less experienced in joy and love.
These are what I've nicknamed my Kim Jong Un Moments. I can't say a single word in prayer for some unless I have immense hope that God will hear me, that He has both reason and power to affect change in their lives. Without hope of that size and expanse, my own heart would start to submerge in the darkness. And for a prayer wimp such as myself, that would be a disaster!
Heavenly Father
Today, my heart travels to North Korea, where tension, anger, power, and unthinkable military action seem to sit at the center of the table. Although I can't see where change is possible or tenable, I know you see the opening to Kim Jong Un's heart, an opening that can open his eyes to an alternative reality that uses love, care, kindness, and belief in you to create a far greater legacy than what is currently in the plans. God, please hear my cry. Only you can draw the eyes of this supreme leader to you, the Supreme Leader, and light the path ahead of him to replace what is in his heart with pure joy, to secure his circle with trust and loyalty, and to fill the people of the Democratic People's Republic of Korea with hope.
Now, back to my to-do list and my tremendous talent for being a prayer wimp!
No comments:
Post a Comment