LET. US. PRAY.
I am no expert in prayer. I’m not even certain what “expert in prayer” really means.
But sometimes when I’m struggling with the words, I imagine how those I admire in my faith would begin. I wish that as I scroll through my feed I would read the words they are praying now. To learn from them. Take comfort in them. Bathe in them. Join in them.
In this spirit I am writing from a place of complete vulnerability. Watching the raw images unfolding, there really is no other way to be.
When I pray, I have always started with “Dearest Heavenly Father,” Though, recently, my intro sounds more like, “Oh Jesus what are we doing here?!” And when I say “here,” I mean in this moment, on planet earth.
We often default to the phrase, “There are no words,” when describing something too impossible to bear.
But no matter how insufficient, there are always words.
And the God of the Universe is asking us to use them now.
It’s ironic, even shameful how I attempt to hide my imperfection from the One who has seen me in the fetal position lying on the floor. While the whole world anguishes, I have nothing more valuable to offer than my honesty now.
If your heart could speak in this moment, what would it say?
Is there some great shame in sharing exactly how you feel?
The Psalms are soaked with the tears of a very human side of disappointment in humanity, the world, even God himself.
Prayer is not the perfect holy language of heaven or the “out loud” highest and best version of ourselves. Prayer is not the full understanding of an infinite Creator, not pristine Bibles, or ironed Sunday clothes.
Prayer is the scribbles in the margins, the wild heart wrestling with the soul. It is a reckoning, an appealing, a turning inside out. With each word, it is refusal to come up for air until head and heart are in alignment, until what is meant [ by us and our Creator] has been said.
Never doubt that God is the gap-filler. Even when we are at a loss for words, he joins us with a lyric of his own. And then the chorus comes like a rushing river that can’t be contained.
God is hungry for our authenticity. He demands the real deal. Our relationship with Him is sanctified in the conversation. There, He reveals, through our own inadequate words, the truth we’ve been withholding even from ourselves.
Ask yourself what part of you is being withheld and for what reason because there is no time to spare.
The vortex we are sensing and seeing in real time is not for “someone else” to fill. The gap is ours. The voices must rise.
If you’re wondering what words to use, join me in starting here—
Dear God~
Where are you? I’m having trouble feeling you near. Have I run ahead of you or am I lagging? I’m anxious and bewildered but this is not where You are. You are in the midst of every heartache, ministering there. When my words fall short then, hear my heart. And when my heart fails from disappointment, break down every wall. So that where I am guarded, I am made completely vulnerable to you. In this vulnerability, make me useful to a grieving world. Through me, let the world experience the truth of who you are. Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be in alignment with your plan, so that I am not overtaken by fear but overwhelmed by your goodness.
In Jesus’ Name.
Amen.
Philippians 4:4-9
4 Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! 5 Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. 6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 7 And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
8 Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. 9 Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.