Have you ever been told something like this?
You pray for those prodigal children! You pray for that unbelieving husband, or spouse, or family member! You know God is going to answer those prayers. It’s his will that everyone be saved, so you pray—and God is going to raise them up!
Yeah, me too. There are plenty of verses about how God answers prayer. Most have some sort of condition, for example (italics mine):
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.
So did your candidate win? Or are you horrified at the results of the election? Either way, we’re probably stuck with this person as president for the next four years. But whether we are celebrating or in mourning, it’s time to move on. As believers, we have an important assignment. It’s our job to:
Pray for those in authority.
We’re pretty familiar with the verse in 1 Timothy 2, where Paul urges:
… that petitions, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for all people—for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness. This is good, and pleases God our Savior, who wants all people to be saved and to come to a knowledge of the truth.
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.
“I have to write a post for tomorrow morning. I’m on a schedule!”
It was getting close to bedtime, and I’d been staring at a blank document for the last thirty minutes. My mind was totally blank.
“God, I need your inspiration, and I need it now, please!”
No answer. No thoughts popping into my brain. Just exhaustion.
Instead, I kept mentally reviewing the list of tasks I had to accomplish the next day: Pay bills, balance accounts, clean the house for coming guests, defrost a freezer-burned hunk of mystery meat and turn it into that night’s dinner. Do a load of laundry. Feed and water the chickens, cat, gecko; water the drooping houseplants (I have an indoor jungle) and flower beds. Find some time to work out or go for a walk. Spend significant time with God. (Why did that always seem to be at the end of the list?)
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.
In honor of the National Day of Prayer, which happens this Thursday, I’m devoting today’s post to prayer. In my many years as a Christian I’ve noticed that, just as we worship according to widely different traditions, we pray in different ways, too. Here are a few styles you’ll probably recognize from your own experiences.
The Shouter
Heads are bowed, the room is quiet, our thoughts are focused on God… and someone leads off with a 150 decibel “O GOD!” Or perhaps it’s a pastor in front of the congregation, praying in his or her “preaching” voice. Do they think God is hard of hearing? Or are they concerned with keeping everyone else awake?
I sat listening to my friend pour out her sorrow and concern for her son. He had been a vibrant believer, praying with authority, intimate with Jesus, a successful evangelist who was planning to go overseas as a missionary. And now he had just proclaimed himself an atheist.
How could someone that close to God suddenly decide that He doesn’t exist? It’s a long story which I won’t elaborate on here, but as best as his parents could piece together, the problem stems from unanswered prayer. He prayed that God would step in and set him free from an addiction—and God didn’t obey him.
A dear friend of ours suffered a massive heart attack yesterday morning. As of last night he had not yet regained consciousness, needed a respirator to breathe, and had no brain function. Doctors are giving him a 1% chance of survival—as a vegetable.
Family and friends are gathered at the hospital, and of course we’re praying for a miracle. That’s what believers do, right? But in spite of our professions of faith, it seems that very few of the pray-ers actually believe in miracles. And, they assume, if God does intervene, He only does so on exceedingly rare occasions. As their church pastor pointed out, she had never actually seen a miracle. The whole concept was hypothetical.
I love the week between Christmas and the new year. All the Christmas preparations are over. We have enough leftovers in the fridge that I don’t have to cook unless I feel like it. The garden (and its weeds) is blanketed with snow. Chores are at a minimum. It’s a time to relax and reflect, to take a deep breath, let it out slowly, and clear my head of all to-do lists.
The end of the year is traditionally a time for assessing the year and resolving to better. (Have you ever noticed that we never seem to be satisfied with just maintaining the status quo?)
I’m impressed by those friends who have five, ten, and even twenty-year plans for their lives. I’m not that clairvoyant. But I do like to compare the ending year with the goals I made last January, and then look ahead to what I might accomplish in the coming year.
Compost 