Recently, I went through some old prayer journals. Some were dated back a handful of years and some were written only yesterday. Those of us who write down our prayers to God know what it's like to go back and read those prayers. They come alive again as we read them. He brings us back to that place immediately- even if that place was years ago. As I read, I began to think what it would feel like to read someone else's prayers. Would they comfort me, knowing I'n not alone? Would I feel an intense compassion for them? Would I feel closer to God by reading their vulnerable words? Also aware that our pain and joy, our questions and confusion, our doubts and confidence, are unique to both of us; but at the same time realizing that though our journeys are different, we pray to the same God. He is consistent, he is steady, he is just what each of us needs...And I find that remarkable.
Father,
Would it hurt you if I said that sometimes I don’t believe that you have my best interest at heart. I want to believe it, but I don’t…sometimes. And in those sometimes, I grip at anything I can attached to your name – prayer, singing, solitude, fellowship, your Word. There have been many nights when I fall asleep with your Book on my lap and my pen in hand. Maybe the more I underline or the more I write in the margin, the closer I’ll feel to whatever it is you’re trying to say. And yet still, I have those “sometimes” moments where things just don’t add up. When all the colors seem to fade and everything appears in gray. When the conversations of those around me are hard to hear because all I can hear are the thoughts in my head…that sometimes become silenced by your silence. It’s not that I give up asking or that I give up searching, but what more can I say but Here God, here I am.
Would it be okay if I told you that I’m scared. In all the strength you give me and in all the courage you’ve gifted me, sometimes I’m just really scared. I know I shouldn’t be; and daily you encourage me not to. But sometimes I’m not sure if I can handle what you know I can handle. I’m not sure if I can be that woman I have prayed to be. In all my dependence on who You are, in all the trials you’ve brought me through, unstained and more free, I still have moments where I’m sometimes afraid; when a circumstance you put before me just seems too daunting and too huge for little me. Is that how David felt? Is that how Caleb felt? And I’m not fighting Goliath and literal Giants, but I think I’ve tasted a bit of their hesitation…Really God? Okay then, here I go. How can I have these sometimes fears when you’ve proven so faithful? When you’ve never let me go? Why do I doubt you, again and again? What more do you have to do to get it through my thick head?
But then I remember what I believe, and I am a believer. And believers aren’t scared because believers believe that with you, we can do anything. So what to do in these sometimes moments where I’m scared and when I doubt? When the usual tactics and efforts to be unafraid don’t work? When I don’t even want to think of tomorrow, or 2 weeks from now, because the future is too uncertain. It seems that I’m rarely, if ever, in the know about what your plans are. All I know is that you only do what is good – even when I struggle believing it, I know it. God use my knowing and turn it into belief. I need you to. And at least I believe you can do that…so I’ll start there.
Father,
Women are complicated. Like really complicated. You knew what you were doing, right? I’m talking about myself here. This woman. Other women are complicated too, but sometimes I confuse myself about myself. You’re a complex God that’s for sure. Did you put all your complexities in the female? I’m beginning to think so.
Holy Spirit,
I am willing to be willing. Right now, that's all I can muster.
Abba,
I hate evil. I hate it so much. I am overcome with an intense hatred for it. The way some people treat each other, the things they say, the actions they take or don’t take. I hate that we all have the potential to be such sinners. We all are affected by this evil that seems to run so rampant. Some days, like today, I look around and I see the war so clearly. I see evil prevailing…or at least that’s how it appears. But You tell us that You have already won. That we share in Your victory. It is finished. I believe this with all my heart, but today God, I ache as I watch evil unfold in the hearts of your sons and daughters. Even those of us who know you do evil willingly. Or we keep quiet about what we see; we don’t stand up for what we know to be true. It’s like we’re too scared to, or too apathetic to, I don’t even know…I think of so many I know who have shouldered the burden of such evil in this world and I hate it. I absolutely hate it. Satan is such a joke. Such a manipulating, conniving, relentless, miserable, LIAR. Can I tell him that God? Can I tell him how intensely I despise his existence? You won’t get away with it, you hear? You WON’T. Your end is coming and you will be wiped out FOREVER.
Father God,
Men are funny. I don’t mean that in the literal sense. Well, some are truly funny. But I mean that in the what the heck kind of sense. Sometimes I don’t understand why they feel so incapable. Aren’t they men of You? Of GOD. I see their boyish hearts come seeping through; they are just as lovely as the manly parts. The parts of them on the inside that still aren’t completely confident in their identity, their calling, and their belovedness. It seems most men I know don’t understand how to receive the Love You give. You know what I’m saying? Is it just a man thing? Men are different, very different. But what is so hard to receive about love? What is so difficult to grasp? Do they try to control it? Do they not feel deserving of it? Why do the resist it? They are so incessant on making you proud. A trait I most love about them. You did a good job there, a fine job indeed. How can I help them believe they are loved? The kind that consumes every piece of them…would they weep if they felt it? What would they do? Would they be able to rest, knowing that you are proud of them no matter what job or path they choose; you are proud because they are your sons. Sons of the Most High, with a seat at your table.
Abba,
I was talking to someone today who is having a hard time in life. This person doesn’t know you; they only know of you. And they need you so desperately. And as I encouraged them and spoke your truth to them, I found my throat choking up when I went to say your Son’s name: Jesus. The name didn’t want to come out. I talked all about you and couldn’t say that one name. The most powerful name in the entire world. I said God, and Maker and Savior, but not Jesus. What was I thinking? Have I not learned? I will talk about you all day long with someone who has received you, who is open to you. And you spontaneously place someone in my life one day to witness to and I can’t even say your name? Who do I think I am? I’m a daughter of God…not acting like it. Forgive me Father. I don’t want to look back on my life and think I should have. And I don’t want the people you’ve gifted me to witness to, find out one day that I held back the power of your name all because I was afraid of how they might respond, what they might do. I think part of me fears so much they’ll reject you. I can’t bear to see them shun you or not pursue you or not see that you are the most important thing in their lives…and then I realize that here I am, not saying your name (the most important name in my life, or so I say…) I’m supposed to be different. Set apart. And I’m not fit to do that if I’m too chicken. Forgive me. I’m going to go practice saying your name right now. Out loud. God forbid I ever conveniently “forget” to mention it again.
Father,
I’m having one of those days where I keep failing. I want to do what’s right and I keep messing up. The thoughts running through my mind today are just ridiculous. And then I think Thank goodness no one can hear my thoughts, but then I remember that you can. Shoot. Cleanse me from the inside. I don’t want to think these things. They only hurt me. They only keep me further from you. Rip me of my pride. Rip me of my entitlements. Take it away – if it hurts, so be it. I’d rather be in the pain of refinement and temporary humiliation than in the pain of such thoughts. Help me to let go.
Holy Spirit,
I have to believe that your timing is perfect. I have to believe that. If I don’t, I will go insane. Meet me at that street corner in my heart; the corner where insanity and faith intersect. Keep me on the straight and narrow. Keep me on the street of Faith. If I make a hard right down insanity road, do whatever you have to do to get me back on your road.
Father,
Today I wept in my car like I’ve never wept before. I could hardly breathe! I almost had to pull over. (What is it about me crying in my car?) I haven’t cried like that in…well, I don’t think I have ever cried like that. And when I was done, though what I wept over was so painful, the tears released me in a way I haven’t felt until today. I’ve cried a lot in my lifetime. And as I felt the salty tears dry on my face, in a moment of your supernatural, I was at peace with this thing so painful, so trying… You are the salt of the earth, you told me, as I tasted the tears on my lips. And in remembering that truth, I realized that your hands made me, all of me, every piece, and that I’m held together by you. And immediately I knew that you were crying with me, in the passenger seat of my car. (You probably rolled down my window because when I cry, my temperature rises! And you know this about me). Maybe it’s your warmth, the nearness of you in my tears, rising the temperature in my heart so I don’t feel so cold or so alone… Sometimes I want to cry my tears over a rich bed of soil. I want my tears to water the seeds you’ve planted; just so I can see that my pain, that these tears, have the power to grow something so beautiful.
Abba,
Some days I wake up just thankful to be alive. Today was one of those days. Rejoicing in your splendor, in your work, in your creation that is so magnificent. I can’t contain my gratitude for a world so gorgeous and colorful to gaze out at. The ocean was as pristine as ever on my drive to work this morning. I looked to my left and I saw your pacific horizon as crystal as ever; and to my right, I saw your snow top mountains. Who am I to be gifted such a home as this? You chose me to live here. Sometimes I’m not sure why! I am in awe of your Grace on my life. Have I told you that lately? It’s never enough. The words of my mouth don’t contain words perfect enough to describe how perfectly wonderful you are. You are my Dad. My True Husband. My Creator. My Perfector. My Author. My Life Giver. My Shelterer. My King. My Hero. My Healer. My Redeemer. My Past. My Future. My Everything. Be my everything- and when I try to pick up other things or some things or worldly things, grab my hand and pull it to you; grab it like a father would grab his young daughter’s hand before she crosses the street. I give you all the permission to lead my life…to hold my hand.
Holy Spirit,
Life is hard enough with you; I couldn't imagine it without you. How do you love me so much? How do you continue not to give up on me? I mess up again and again. Help me to see myself, to see others, as you do. My eyes are open, but they rarely see. A life through my eyes is a life, but hardly.
Father,
Today, it's just the daily ordinary. Doing what I can- from your word and love- to give it all up to you. To let go.
Abba,
I love you. That's all. Holy is the Lord...God Almighty.
Father God,
The pressure on my soul is so strong. I feel like I'm going to burst. I want to burst. To break out of this cocoon you've had me in. It's only been a handful of months I've been in here, but it feels like years...and yet sometimes, it feels like only minutes. I'm all wrapped up in the power of you, your hands hedging me in so very tightly, forming the new parts of me...you are preparing me to fly. But today I find myself wanting to cut the cord that keeps me in here; the pressure has become so severe, so extreme. I can barely move my arms, my legs, and I'm exhausted from trying. Temptation taunts this intense pressure on my soul; it wants me to break the cocoon, to get out now, to be done, over, finished with this "season." But the resolve within this compressed soul that's being squeezed to the point where it can be squeezed no longer, knows that now, when the pressure is most painful and most strong, is when you ask me to trust you. To give it another hour and another day. To trust you now when it feels like I can't any more. To trust you now when all I want to do is burst out of this cocoon and use the new parts you've formed in me for the first time. I want to fly...and yet I hear you say, Wait. I will know your love for me in these moments, when you trust my heart and when you let my hands apply the pressure. This has to happen first, you have to be here now, but you won't forever, I promise. Trust me in the pressure- I am forming endurance within you. Trust that I Am for your good. I am doing something now that will bless you in the future. Sit still when all you want to do is move. I...will...make...this...new.
Father,
Would it hurt you if I said that sometimes I don’t believe that you have my best interest at heart. I want to believe it, but I don’t…sometimes. And in those sometimes, I grip at anything I can attached to your name – prayer, singing, solitude, fellowship, your Word. There have been many nights when I fall asleep with your Book on my lap and my pen in hand. Maybe the more I underline or the more I write in the margin, the closer I’ll feel to whatever it is you’re trying to say. And yet still, I have those “sometimes” moments where things just don’t add up. When all the colors seem to fade and everything appears in gray. When the conversations of those around me are hard to hear because all I can hear are the thoughts in my head…that sometimes become silenced by your silence. It’s not that I give up asking or that I give up searching, but what more can I say but Here God, here I am.
Would it be okay if I told you that I’m scared. In all the strength you give me and in all the courage you’ve gifted me, sometimes I’m just really scared. I know I shouldn’t be; and daily you encourage me not to. But sometimes I’m not sure if I can handle what you know I can handle. I’m not sure if I can be that woman I have prayed to be. In all my dependence on who You are, in all the trials you’ve brought me through, unstained and more free, I still have moments where I’m sometimes afraid; when a circumstance you put before me just seems too daunting and too huge for little me. Is that how David felt? Is that how Caleb felt? And I’m not fighting Goliath and literal Giants, but I think I’ve tasted a bit of their hesitation…Really God? Okay then, here I go. How can I have these sometimes fears when you’ve proven so faithful? When you’ve never let me go? Why do I doubt you, again and again? What more do you have to do to get it through my thick head?
But then I remember what I believe, and I am a believer. And believers aren’t scared because believers believe that with you, we can do anything. So what to do in these sometimes moments where I’m scared and when I doubt? When the usual tactics and efforts to be unafraid don’t work? When I don’t even want to think of tomorrow, or 2 weeks from now, because the future is too uncertain. It seems that I’m rarely, if ever, in the know about what your plans are. All I know is that you only do what is good – even when I struggle believing it, I know it. God use my knowing and turn it into belief. I need you to. And at least I believe you can do that…so I’ll start there.
Father,
Women are complicated. Like really complicated. You knew what you were doing, right? I’m talking about myself here. This woman. Other women are complicated too, but sometimes I confuse myself about myself. You’re a complex God that’s for sure. Did you put all your complexities in the female? I’m beginning to think so.
Holy Spirit,
I am willing to be willing. Right now, that's all I can muster.
Abba,
I hate evil. I hate it so much. I am overcome with an intense hatred for it. The way some people treat each other, the things they say, the actions they take or don’t take. I hate that we all have the potential to be such sinners. We all are affected by this evil that seems to run so rampant. Some days, like today, I look around and I see the war so clearly. I see evil prevailing…or at least that’s how it appears. But You tell us that You have already won. That we share in Your victory. It is finished. I believe this with all my heart, but today God, I ache as I watch evil unfold in the hearts of your sons and daughters. Even those of us who know you do evil willingly. Or we keep quiet about what we see; we don’t stand up for what we know to be true. It’s like we’re too scared to, or too apathetic to, I don’t even know…I think of so many I know who have shouldered the burden of such evil in this world and I hate it. I absolutely hate it. Satan is such a joke. Such a manipulating, conniving, relentless, miserable, LIAR. Can I tell him that God? Can I tell him how intensely I despise his existence? You won’t get away with it, you hear? You WON’T. Your end is coming and you will be wiped out FOREVER.
Father God,
Men are funny. I don’t mean that in the literal sense. Well, some are truly funny. But I mean that in the what the heck kind of sense. Sometimes I don’t understand why they feel so incapable. Aren’t they men of You? Of GOD. I see their boyish hearts come seeping through; they are just as lovely as the manly parts. The parts of them on the inside that still aren’t completely confident in their identity, their calling, and their belovedness. It seems most men I know don’t understand how to receive the Love You give. You know what I’m saying? Is it just a man thing? Men are different, very different. But what is so hard to receive about love? What is so difficult to grasp? Do they try to control it? Do they not feel deserving of it? Why do the resist it? They are so incessant on making you proud. A trait I most love about them. You did a good job there, a fine job indeed. How can I help them believe they are loved? The kind that consumes every piece of them…would they weep if they felt it? What would they do? Would they be able to rest, knowing that you are proud of them no matter what job or path they choose; you are proud because they are your sons. Sons of the Most High, with a seat at your table.
Abba,
I was talking to someone today who is having a hard time in life. This person doesn’t know you; they only know of you. And they need you so desperately. And as I encouraged them and spoke your truth to them, I found my throat choking up when I went to say your Son’s name: Jesus. The name didn’t want to come out. I talked all about you and couldn’t say that one name. The most powerful name in the entire world. I said God, and Maker and Savior, but not Jesus. What was I thinking? Have I not learned? I will talk about you all day long with someone who has received you, who is open to you. And you spontaneously place someone in my life one day to witness to and I can’t even say your name? Who do I think I am? I’m a daughter of God…not acting like it. Forgive me Father. I don’t want to look back on my life and think I should have. And I don’t want the people you’ve gifted me to witness to, find out one day that I held back the power of your name all because I was afraid of how they might respond, what they might do. I think part of me fears so much they’ll reject you. I can’t bear to see them shun you or not pursue you or not see that you are the most important thing in their lives…and then I realize that here I am, not saying your name (the most important name in my life, or so I say…) I’m supposed to be different. Set apart. And I’m not fit to do that if I’m too chicken. Forgive me. I’m going to go practice saying your name right now. Out loud. God forbid I ever conveniently “forget” to mention it again.
Father,
I’m having one of those days where I keep failing. I want to do what’s right and I keep messing up. The thoughts running through my mind today are just ridiculous. And then I think Thank goodness no one can hear my thoughts, but then I remember that you can. Shoot. Cleanse me from the inside. I don’t want to think these things. They only hurt me. They only keep me further from you. Rip me of my pride. Rip me of my entitlements. Take it away – if it hurts, so be it. I’d rather be in the pain of refinement and temporary humiliation than in the pain of such thoughts. Help me to let go.
Holy Spirit,
I have to believe that your timing is perfect. I have to believe that. If I don’t, I will go insane. Meet me at that street corner in my heart; the corner where insanity and faith intersect. Keep me on the straight and narrow. Keep me on the street of Faith. If I make a hard right down insanity road, do whatever you have to do to get me back on your road.
Father,
Today I wept in my car like I’ve never wept before. I could hardly breathe! I almost had to pull over. (What is it about me crying in my car?) I haven’t cried like that in…well, I don’t think I have ever cried like that. And when I was done, though what I wept over was so painful, the tears released me in a way I haven’t felt until today. I’ve cried a lot in my lifetime. And as I felt the salty tears dry on my face, in a moment of your supernatural, I was at peace with this thing so painful, so trying… You are the salt of the earth, you told me, as I tasted the tears on my lips. And in remembering that truth, I realized that your hands made me, all of me, every piece, and that I’m held together by you. And immediately I knew that you were crying with me, in the passenger seat of my car. (You probably rolled down my window because when I cry, my temperature rises! And you know this about me). Maybe it’s your warmth, the nearness of you in my tears, rising the temperature in my heart so I don’t feel so cold or so alone… Sometimes I want to cry my tears over a rich bed of soil. I want my tears to water the seeds you’ve planted; just so I can see that my pain, that these tears, have the power to grow something so beautiful.
Abba,
Some days I wake up just thankful to be alive. Today was one of those days. Rejoicing in your splendor, in your work, in your creation that is so magnificent. I can’t contain my gratitude for a world so gorgeous and colorful to gaze out at. The ocean was as pristine as ever on my drive to work this morning. I looked to my left and I saw your pacific horizon as crystal as ever; and to my right, I saw your snow top mountains. Who am I to be gifted such a home as this? You chose me to live here. Sometimes I’m not sure why! I am in awe of your Grace on my life. Have I told you that lately? It’s never enough. The words of my mouth don’t contain words perfect enough to describe how perfectly wonderful you are. You are my Dad. My True Husband. My Creator. My Perfector. My Author. My Life Giver. My Shelterer. My King. My Hero. My Healer. My Redeemer. My Past. My Future. My Everything. Be my everything- and when I try to pick up other things or some things or worldly things, grab my hand and pull it to you; grab it like a father would grab his young daughter’s hand before she crosses the street. I give you all the permission to lead my life…to hold my hand.
Holy Spirit,
Life is hard enough with you; I couldn't imagine it without you. How do you love me so much? How do you continue not to give up on me? I mess up again and again. Help me to see myself, to see others, as you do. My eyes are open, but they rarely see. A life through my eyes is a life, but hardly.
Father,
Today, it's just the daily ordinary. Doing what I can- from your word and love- to give it all up to you. To let go.
Abba,
I love you. That's all. Holy is the Lord...God Almighty.
Father God,
The pressure on my soul is so strong. I feel like I'm going to burst. I want to burst. To break out of this cocoon you've had me in. It's only been a handful of months I've been in here, but it feels like years...and yet sometimes, it feels like only minutes. I'm all wrapped up in the power of you, your hands hedging me in so very tightly, forming the new parts of me...you are preparing me to fly. But today I find myself wanting to cut the cord that keeps me in here; the pressure has become so severe, so extreme. I can barely move my arms, my legs, and I'm exhausted from trying. Temptation taunts this intense pressure on my soul; it wants me to break the cocoon, to get out now, to be done, over, finished with this "season." But the resolve within this compressed soul that's being squeezed to the point where it can be squeezed no longer, knows that now, when the pressure is most painful and most strong, is when you ask me to trust you. To give it another hour and another day. To trust you now when it feels like I can't any more. To trust you now when all I want to do is burst out of this cocoon and use the new parts you've formed in me for the first time. I want to fly...and yet I hear you say, Wait. I will know your love for me in these moments, when you trust my heart and when you let my hands apply the pressure. This has to happen first, you have to be here now, but you won't forever, I promise. Trust me in the pressure- I am forming endurance within you. Trust that I Am for your good. I am doing something now that will bless you in the future. Sit still when all you want to do is move. I...will...make...this...new.
1 comment:
These are powerful. I love how your heart is being shaped through the various aspects of Who He is. Thank you for your honesty.
Love you,
Post a Comment