The Mysteries of Prayer

I’m into my third week of a summer series on spiritual disciplines, entering into one of the most difficult of all for me—prayer. I’m not sure why. I know down deep that my life, my ministry is desperately dependent upon prayer. Desperately dependent! And yet, prayer can be so laborious for me. It’s not that I don’t pray; don’t work through a careful list I have put together to pray over each day. But it is hard for me to relate to those saints of old who have gotten up in the night to pray, and pray for hours.

Part of it is living in a culture that has bred into me hurry and noise. When I took the test in Strengthfinder, “Achiever” surfaced as my dominant strength. It’s not all that surprising, then, that prayer can sometimes be so hard for me, for prayer can seem so unproductive. When I slow down to pray for an extended time, I am often uncomfortable. I remember going to a park one day for one purpose—to pray. But the whole time I feared someone would see me and accuse me of wasting time. Something inside said I must get back to work, missing of course that this is my most necessary work.

So I occasionally turn to books to get my uncentered self back on center, beginning with God’s Word. And yet, this too can often be confusing. I love Jesus’ stories of the widow who tenaciously stayed at it with a judge, until her needs were addressed; the neighbor who came to the friend in the night, and kept banging the door until his neighbor gave in, got up, and gave him a loaf. I love the promise of Jesus that when we pray, God is far more responsive. I rely on these stories to build my faith. I’ve preached them with conviction, exegeting almost every word. But these stories also confuse me, for a fair amount of issues I have been tenacious to pray about have not materialized—yet. When Jesus says, “If you ask anything in My name, I will do it”, I sometimes wonder, “Is He exaggerating?”  “Is there something wrong with me, God?” Am I not getting the “in My name” part right? 

I don’t want to be misunderstood here. God has given to us many wonderful answers—far more than I will ever know. That I am blessed with a most fulfilling ministry and a great family is more than enough evidence. That Heather has survived a close call with death in November, and my own health stays strong is a testament to God’s faithful response to our petitions. That we are far richer than I would have ever imagined is a witness to God’s profound answers to our needs. But I would be less than honest if I didn’t also admit my confusion over unanswered prayers.

Some books on prayer inspire me, others just deepen the guilt. But recently, I came across a wonderful new book on prayer by Paul Miller, entitled A Praying Life. It was as if I found a kindred spirit on the journey. He writes with warmth and insight, and I found myself praying throughout the reading. It just provoked me to constantly Twitter with God.  

I’m still learning to pray like a child, for this is where it starts—coming to grips with our total helplessness. “Learning to be Helpless” is, in fact, one of the best chapters in the book. Quoting from Thomas Merton, Miller writes: “Prayer is an expression of who we are…we are a living incompleteness. We are a gap, an emptiness that calls for fulfillment.” Prayer reminds us of the words in John 15:5, “Apart from me, you can do nothing.”  And reading John 15:5 points us back to prayer.

Speaking of prayer. I am off to Lebanon and Syria for two weeks. I your are reading, please keep me in your prayers. I hope to blog what God is teaching me.

Comments

[Deborah Hays]

Dear John, Just know that I AM praying for you and Heather, along with Kenny and Joanie, for a great trip. May each of you find exactly what the Lord has in mind for each of you to find on this trip.

Lots of love, your sister