In honor of Valentine’s Day, I was all set to write an interesting, well-reasoned, and relevant post about love. Then my friend Cynthia went and beat me to it, and she did a much better job than I would have done.
Since I’m out of town and on vacation (and working on spoiling my granddaughter), I’m sending you over to Cynthia’s blog, Let’s Talk. I hope your find her thoughts on “Love with Knowledge and Discernment“ as helpful as I did. Happy Valentine’s Day.
There are only a few days of 2012 left. Most of us take the opportunity a new year offers to refocus, perhaps make some changes (you could call them resolutions), and in general start the year with a clean slate.
Our church is doing the same thing. At the beginning of 2013, our pastors are calling for “21 Days of Night & Day Prayer.” During those three weeks, people will be praying round the clock, 24/7. We can sign up for a specific shift at a prayer room, or just show up at any time. Everyone is welcome. And of course, we can pray on our own as well.
What do you want for Christmas? As small children sitting on Santa’s lap, we quickly learned to rattle off a long list of our desires—mostly things we’ve seen in ads on TV. Now that we’re older, we still have our lists, posted online at the request of family members trying to assemble a Christmas shopping list.
As the primary gift shopper in our household, I was scanning these lists when the thought occurred to me… what does Jesus want for Christmas? After all, it’s his birthday!
I was reminded of a passage I read recently—found in both Matthew 16:23 and Mark 8:33—where Jesus tells Peter “Get behind me, Satan! … You do not have in mind the concerns of God, but merely human concerns.” I wondered, what are the concerns of God? What could He, the owner of the cattle on a thousand hills (not to mention the rest of creation) possibly lack? Or, if you’re not the practical gift type, what could we give Him to make Him happier?
What motivates you to pray?
A group of us were talking after church one day, and a friend declared, “I pray as a last resort, after I’ve exhausted all other possibilities.”
He clearly didn’t see any problem with that; I bet a lot of people would agree with him. As long as things are going well, as long as we think we know what we’re doing, as long as we believe we have the answers, we don’t pray. After all, God is busy and we don’t want to bother Him with the “little stuff.”
Well, I’ve learned that this is a really bad approach. There are two reasons why.
Have you ever prayed to know God’s will?
Pete and I are at a crossroads, faced with a decision that will have a major impact on our lives for at least the next few years. As you might expect, we’re asking God to tell us which way we should go. Is this an opportunity—or a distraction? Do we run toward it or run away?
Sound familiar?
I expect that most Christians have prayed to know God’s will. After all, it’s clear in Scripture that God wants us to ask, and then obey what He tells us. David had a long string of successful battles, but He always inquired of the Lord when facing a new situation. Sometimes God gave him an expected strategy, while other times He had a surprise in mind. But no matter how skilled a warrior he became, David always took time to ask.
I’ve been through two deadly earthquakes, billiard ball-sized hail, and a hurricane, but none of these prepared me for an out-of-control wildfire. We feel blessed that our home is out of danger, at least at this time, but we live in a forest, with trees surrounding (at the requisite 30 foot distance) three sides of our house. The neighborhood of several hundred homes that went up in flames Tuesday night is only twelve miles away—less if you’re a wind-borne ember.
I’ve been on Facebook a lot the last few days, trying to see how friends are doing, letting people know we’re okay, and posting photos of the fire as seen from our driveway.
For over a week we have been aware of a huge fire burning west of Ft. Collins, about two hours north of us. Fourteen square miles and almost 200 homes have been destroyed. Anyone living in the area has been evacuated, unable to check on their property or retrieve belongings. I’ve tossed up a few prayers, especially when I read news updates, but it hasn’t exactly dominated my thoughts.
Saturday afternoon I happened to glance out the window and saw a huge plume of smoke rising from behind a ridge here in Colorado Springs. We were witnessing the first few hours of the Waldo Canyon fire. As I write this, thousands of people have been displaced although thankfully no one has been hurt and no structures have burned. Still, the fire has consumed 2,000 acres and is totally out of control. I can think of nothing else.
Our friend really screwed up. He lives in northern Washington and he’d made a quick trip to Colorado Springs to visit a number of ministries here. We’d seen him earlier in the day, but were surprised when he called us around 8:30 that evening. He sounded somewhat worried. Explaining where he was (on the freeway, heading north), he asked, “How long does it take to get to Denver International Airport from here?”
“About an hour and a half, if traffic is good. Why? What time’s your flight?”
There was dead silence for a moment. Then he slowly told us, “I have a rental car to turn in. And my flight leaves at 9:15.”
Oh-oh. He should have been waiting at the gate already, not 70 miles south of the airport!
(How do you pray in a situation like this?)
I was totally overwhelmed. Mind going around and around on an endless track of useless thoughts: Now what? What if? How? I hardly slept. I could barely eat. I couldn’t focus on anything, much less God. No way I could pray.
Yet, I had never needed to pray more.
Have you ever felt this way? You’re in the deepest pit, and God is your only salvation. You know you need to pray. But you just can’t. And that makes you feel even worse. Like you’re a failure.
A couple of years ago I wrote a post about creating memorials to God’s faithfulness. I then told a story about our trip to Costa Rica, and how God showed up in incredible ways. Here is another story, about what happened when it was time for Pete to fly home from the 1995 conference in Korea that I mentioned a bit ago:
Pete had been gone for six long weeks, and the kids and I were eagerly anticipating his homecoming. I’d had a dream that he missed his flight, and I was so agitated that I emailed him and urged him to allow extra time for the airport. As a result, he left the hotel two hours earlier than normal.
Compost 