How Long

I recently listened to a podcast episode of a prayer event in Europe. The episode’s speaker captured the power of praying the Psalms, particularly in regards to lamenting.

His encouragement to help growth in lamenting was focused on the language of Psalm 13, specifically the first three words: “How Long, Lord.”

My lament went from the page to the piano. Before you listen to the recording, take a moment to meditate on the six verses of this psalm:

[1] How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? [2] How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and day after day have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me? [3] Look on me and answer, Lord my God. Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death, [4] and my enemy will say, “I have overcome him,” and my foes will rejoice when I fall. [5] But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation. [6] I will sing the Lord’s praise, for he has been good to me. Psalm 13 NIV

Keep Looking

Father

I looked for you today

In the drizzling rain

In the psalmist’s lyrics

In a believer’s curiosity

In a mourner’s heartbreak

Son

I looked for you today

In a partner’s forgiveness

In an artist’s healing

In a woman’s pain

In a dreamer’s frustration

Spirit

I looked for you today

In a grandpa’s tears

In a friend’s question

In a pastor’s story

In a buyer’s decision

There you were

Everywhere saying, “Keep Looking”

Photo by Erik Mclean on Unsplash

Let’s Talk

Started listening to a new audio book, In the Shelter by Padraig O Tuama. In chapter one he asked an interesting question about prayer, one I’ve not heard worded this way before. “Where is it that we are when we pray?”

It’s a different way to challenge one’s emotional and mental approach to prayer.

We are often in many places. We are saying to ourselves, “I should be somewhere else,” or, “I should be someone else,” or “I am not where I say I am.” In prayer, to begin where you are not is a poor beginning.

To begin where you are may take courage or compromise or painful truth telling; whatever it takes, it’s wise to begin there. The only place to begin is where I am.

Not where you want or feel you ought to be. This could mean rather than naming your present state-confused, frustrated, hurt, angry, lonely, unhappy, etc.-you ask for where you want to be or where you feel it is your duty to be-fulfilled, joyful, connected, healed, satisfied, understood, peaceful, etc.

Not in many places. We can often pray about what has happened, what we fear is going to happen rather than what is happening in this moment. We can be drawn to focus on the past or the future to the point that the present is ignored, maybe even avoided. The result that we aren’t even intending can be distance, even creating space for drifting to begin.

I believe what he’s encouraging is twofold. One is raw honesty. The other is naked vulnerability.

Prayer that is honest and vulnerable, not pious or fake, says to God, “I’m here. I believe you are too. Let’s talk.”

Photo by Fallon Michael on Unsplash

Centering Prayer and Inner Awakening (book review)

If you identify as one of these people, this book may be for you:

  • Contemplative
  • Meditative
  • Pursuing Spiritual Formation

Chances are the terms Centering Prayer or Welcoming Prayer are new to you. They were to me, which drew me to the book.

The first three sections of the book include 10 chapters teaching the method, tradition, and psychology of centering prayer.

The final section focuses on inner awakening and introduces welcoming prayer in chapter 13. That chapter by far was the most resourcing. This tool is meant to help surrender be an underlying attitude and practice for meeting daily life.

The welcoming prayer follows a three-step process:

  1. Focus and Sink In: Focus on how emotions or physical pain are being experienced in your body. Stay present without analyzing.
  2. Welcome: By welcoming the emotion or pain, you are not attempting to eliminate it but disarm it.
  3. Let Go: Two ways to go about this. 1) Short: “I let go of my anger,” or “I give my anger to God.” 2) Litany using the following formula: “I let go my desire for security and survival. I let go my desire for esteem and affection. I let go my desire for power and control. I let go my desire to change the situation.”

This quote sums it up quite well:

Here now, is the right place for you to wrestle before the divine face. If you remain firm, if you do not bend, you shall see and perceive great wonders. You will discover how Christ will storm the hell in you and will break your beasts. -Jacob Boehme

I don’t know about you, but I welcome the image and reality that the hell in me doesn’t have to be battled alone. I challenge you to try the welcoming prayer in the next 48 hours. Remain firm. Don’t bend. Welcome the beasts.

Lay It Down Day(s)

In the Christian world, Sunday is a special day. It’s a day set aside for several reasons, depending on which lane of Christianity you’re following. I’ve been pondering this since before my alarm was set to go off this morning. I’m thinking in some ways Sundays aren’t necessarily special. More on that later.

This week had peaks and valleys. If I’m not paying attention, I can relive the valleys to the point the peaks are forgotten. That’s what I was dealing with to start the day-and I wasn’t even out of bed.

Before the alarm sounded, God and I had a talk. (SIDENOTE: A definition for prayer that I read yesterday described prayer as what happens when you pay attention. It’s okay if you stop to chew on that.) In thinking about heading to church this morning, we landed on this mindset: Everything the last six days have offered did not have to dictate how I showed up to this day. In fact, for the day to be what it’s intended, start by laying down whatever isn’t needed for the day.

What did that include?

  • Unresolved conflict
  • Confusion
  • Unanswered questions
  • Unmet expectations
  • Disappointment

To be clear, by laying it down we didn’t say these things don’t matter. Act like the week was just one big peak experience. Nothing truthful about that.

Laying it down meant don’t let it consume this day. If Sunday is going to be what it’s meant to be, I decided I didn’t need to carry those valleys into it. Today didn’t have to be a valley. The valley could have a small peak.

My word for the year is rest. I’m finding more and more that rest is a state of mind. Rest is possible in the valley just as much as it is atop the peak. It has to be chosen. That doesn’t make the valley disappear, nor does it mean the valley magically lights up. It means my body, mind, and spirit don’t have to hurry finding the path out of the valley. Chances are probably greater if I enter the church doors having already laid things down I will receive what God knows I need. I might even be able to help someone else lay something down.

Which leads me back to Sundays being special. Sure, it’s the day of gathering. But imagine if the other six days of the week were considered just as opportunistic. What if every day was a Lay It Down day? What if God and I had a similar talk every morning before standing up for my first step? I’m guessing that paying attention effort would result in more day’s intentions transpiring, valley or peak.

As You Live and Move and Breathe

Came across a song new to me today that voiced a prayer of personal need. Before sharing it, do you know or remember this one?

Matt Maher gave us this song 11 years ago, a prayer declaring an awareness and desperation regarding needing God. There are moments in life where this prayer song matches our spirit. In those moments, I believe God is like a father, thankful his child trusts their need with him.

The song I found today is also a prayer song about need, but the declaration isn’t a cry for help. Instead, the song is a declaration of belief in God’s ability to meet needs and, therefore, a desire to stay close to him. Why? Because he knows what we need. That “because” leaves the lyricist to declare something about himself. He wants everything he does and says to lead him back to the one who knows what he needs.

Two songs about human need. Two songs voicing a prayer of faith. Wherever your faith is today regarding your needs, chances are one of these songs captures it.

As you live and move and breathe, sing along. He’s listening.

Six Steps to Writing Your Laments

I’m guessing if the majority of us were asked if we had anything to lament over we’d have more than one answer.

  • A relationship
  • Religion
  • Politics
  • Finances
  • Physical aches

I’m guessing if the majority of us were asked if we had a proper approach to lamenting we’d struggle to lay it out. Thankfully, Krispin Mayfield has offered some help.

In his book Attached to God, he gives six steps to writing a lament. Why? When we express our most difficult emotions to God, we draw closer to him. Intimacy with God is found in a balance of praise and lament.

In the tradition of the Psalms, here are Mayfield’s six steps:

  1. Tell God something you wish were different in your own life or the world, such as a health condition, difficult relationship, life stress, poverty, or racism.
  2. Tell God what you feel when you think about this issue; additionally, write down any emotions you might feel considering God’s inaction regarding this issue.
  3. Tell about a time in your own life or someone else’s where God intervened.
  4. Ask God to step in and address this suffering.
  5. Tell God you’re confident that your prayer is heard.
  6. Praise or recognize one of God’s attributes or characteristics, based on your past or present experience.

Sharing some of your uncomfortable emotions with God might feel strange. But you can unlock the basement when you’re assured that both God and your faith tradition can hold the parts of your experience. When you are sad, scared, or angry, your emotions aren’t signs of a lack of faith, but rather evidence that you are exactly where you need to be-at home with a God who is waiting to hear your emotions and give you the reassurance you need. (chapter 8, “From Shutdown to Engaged”)

Photo by Joshua Earle on Unsplash

Redeeming Conditioning

This was the first point in yesterday morning’s sermon: You always find what you’ve been conditioned to find. I was immediately reminded of a blog post from a few years back, “We See What We Look For.”

Being conditioned is certainly a thing, a thing that many are quick to point out about others who are on the opposing side. I often wonder how much we consider our own conditioning.

For example, politically. The deeper in one gets, the more conditioned they become to seeing only one viewpoint and thus responding in defense of it. The conditioning seems impenetrable.

And unfortunately, the same seems to go for spiritually. It’s as if our identity in both of these realms cripples our ability to recognize our personal programmed perceptions and responses that leave our minds and spirits untapped.

I’ll give two examples. A few years ago I answered a question of why I believe God exists by how I believe I’ve experienced His involvement in answering prayer. Two people in the conversation immediately locked eyes and jinxed each other with their reply of, “That’s just positive manifestation.” Wall up. Dialogue over. (If this is new language to you, check out this blog post.)

This past week I was at an event where we were discussing the usage of microphones. I made a comment that I didn’t have a clue came across as judgmental. One person replied gently, “We try not to judge here.” He’s conditioned to protect against judgment; I’m a work in progress of overcoming judgment as a natural response.

May I suggest we all address conditioning in the following ways:

  1. Acknowledge you have been conditioned
  2. Consider the probability that your conditioning needs redeeming
  3. Thank God for his redeeming conditioning work
  4. Offer grace to others who find their conditioning in need of redemption

Photo by Edi Libedinsky on Unsplash

More Than a Guide

Janet Holm McHenry has breathed life into my prayer life through her book.

I first referenced it in a post last month and took another month to finish it. Like eating red velvet waffles (Yes, that’s a thing. Had them for the first time this week. May I have another, please?), who wants to rush the goodness.

The first three words of the book’s title is true and is achieved, yet I find it to be so much more. If it breathes life into a spiritual discipline, then it’s easily described as life giving, potentially life changing.

The first indicator came from this simple suggestion in the introduction:

I pray for whatever God puts in my eyesight.

Needs some context probably. Janet was describing her shift from having a structured approach to prayer while she walked her neighborhood to praying based on what she believed God was putting in sight in that moment. That computes with “pray without ceasing” in my dictionary. Adoption #1.

I appreciate each chapter’s dedication to one prayer by Jesus. The three that had the most impression to my spirit were chapters nine, twelve, and thirteen.

A love that breeds unity is a subtle form of evangelism…Unity overlooks the faults of others who may not yet be living up to their potential, because unity knows those folks are growing in the right direction. (Chapter 9, “Jesus’ Prayer for the Church”)

Our “why” prayers are not a lack of faith; they are simply a lack of information. (Chapter 12, “Jesus’ Prayer in Abandonment”)

A prayer of submission actually is an act of strength. (Chapter 13, “Jesus’ Prayer of Submission.” She wrote this in reply to quoting Richard Foster: “It is the prayer of relinquishment that moves us from the struggling to the releasing.”)

Adoption #2, having a deeper understanding and awareness of praying for unity

Adoption #3, honoring the heart of anyone’s “why” prayer

Adoption #4, appreciating the movement and strength in submission

Her book is more than a guide. Take a read and see if you agree.

Praise: A Well-Taken Reminder

For the last three weeks I’ve been focused on a question, a personal spiritual dialogue that I’ve shared with a few others. The question could be stated several ways, but what I’m after is an answer that enriches/refreshes relationship with God. Here are variations of the question:

  • Which is more important, focusing on what God does for us or who He is to us?
  • In my experience in the Church, is the focus on what God does or who He is?
  • What do my prayers reflect, a focus on works or on identity?
  • How do believers achieve balance between doing for and with God versus being with and knowing God?

In ways I’ll never be able to explain, the timeliness of reading the right book at the right time surfaced again this afternoon. I recently picked it up off clearance at Books A Million.

In Chapter 4 entitled “Jesus’ Prayer of Praise,” McHenry shared that Richard Foster says adoration has two forms, praise and thanksgiving. Thanksgiving expresses appreciation for what God has done; praise acknowledges who God is.

This struck me through a simple word-praise. I have been contrasting the words adoration and thanksgiving without thought to the word praise. Accepting this teaching that they are really all the same brings some relief to my analytical brain.

That final question in the list above comes from how I’ve been approaching prayer the last three weeks. I’ve leaned more in the adoring lane than the thanking or asking lane-an effort to discipline my focus on relationship. A reminder to praise is well taken.

By the way, in this chapter McHenry shared a terrific list to help us all improve our adoration. Seemed worth sharing.