“Prayer is either a sheer illusion or a personal contact between embryonic, incomplete persons (ourselves) and the utterly concrete Person. Prayer, in the sense of petition, asking for things, is a small part of it; confession and penitence are its threshold, adoration its sanctuary, the presence and vision and enjoyment of God its bread and wine. In it God shows Himself to us” (C. S. Lewis, The World’s Last Night).

I love the idea of prayer connected with worship and communion. It really does help me visualize the real meaning and goal of prayer.

Most of the time, we stop short of entering into the sanctuary of prayer when all we do is make petitions before God. It can almost become like a child sitting in Santa’s lap laying out a long list of what he or she wants for Christmas.

We get further in when we make confession before God. It’s more than just saying sorry for our sins. It’s agreeing with God not just that we sinned but about God being God and us not being God. It’s about agreeing not just with the bad we’ve done but also the good God has done to make it right. That leads to repenting, which is more than feeling bad. It’s a change of mind that leads to a change of behavior. It’s doing a 180 from going my own way to going God’s way.

The best part of prayer that we often neglect the most is adoration — not so much thanking God for what He’s done for us but mostly for who He is. It’s saying He’s worthy of worship and praise even if He never did one thing more for us because of who He is and what He’s already done for us.

I confess that my prayers often start and end with me. It’s more of my laundry list of wishes and wants to God where I’m in too much of a hurry to wait for a response. But when it becomes more than that, it’s less about me trying to change God’s mind and more about God changing me to want what He wants. That’s when the best kind of prayer happens.

I always get a bit annoyed by the old trope that goes along the lines of “If I’ve only learned one thing in this life . . . .” Of course you’ve learned more than just one thing. Or at least I hope you have.

But I will say one of the main themes that I have learned time and time again is the goodness of God.

God is good. Period.

The danger is making my experiences and my feelings the litmus test of God’s goodness to me. If I base how good I perceive God to be based on what I see and how I feel, I will get a very narrow and me-centered view of God.

So many people walk away from God because they make themselves the standard for how God has to act. His goodness is based on how they’ve felt Him or seem Him, and when they can’t feel Him or see Him, He must be absent or uncaring.

The real test is God’s Word. The test is every one of God’s promises that He has ever made. And do you know that God is batting 1.000? For all the non-baseball readers, that means God has kept every single one of the promises He has ever made.

God is good even when I don’t see it. God is good even when I don’t feel it. I don’t see the big picture — more like about 5-10% of it. If I could somehow see it all, then I would never doubt. Then again, I’d never need faith. And my brain would probably explode from information overload.

So faith tells me God is good when my senses and my feelings tell me otherwise. And if my memory were better, it would tell me the same. God is good.

I’ve been known to say before that I don’t really mind the hot weather — to a point. What really zaps my energy and drains my joy is humidity. You walk outside and instantly turn into a sweat puddle.

And my hair? Let’s not even go there.

As long as the temperatures stay below 90 and with low humidity, I will survive. But once we hit 90+ with all the steamy humidity, I start praying for fall.

“Buy the lie that your life is supposed to be heaven on earth, and suffering can be a torturous hell. But life is suffering, and suffering is but the cross to bear, part of earth’s topography to cross on our way to heaven. The question isn’t ‘Why is there suffering in my life?’ But ‘Why wouldn’t there be suffering?’ Because such is life in a broken world. The question is ‘What WAY will you bear your suffering?’” (Ann Voscamp #waymakerbook)

I think it was the singer Nightbirde who said that the question shouldn’t be why bad things happen to good people, but why do good things happen to us at all? I catch myself at times with a kind of entitlement mentality where I expect only good to happen to me, only comfort and never any suffering of any kind.

But transformation only happens through suffering. You know about the caterpillar struggling to become a butterfly, and how if you were to cut open the cocoon, the butterfly would have no strength to fly.

If we were truly good and had no sin nature, our growth could be easy and painless. But since we are living with that sin nature and our natural bent is not toward good and God, then the process is painful and slow, like constantly swimming against the current.

Ultimately, Jesus suffered, so why should we expect to find an easy life? Why should we automatically seek comfort as the main goal of life? Also, seeking pain and suffering is not a healthy mentality. We should seek God and accept what that path brings us, whether joy or sorrow, comfort or pain.

Even in the worst of suffering, we can know that God is with us in the midst of it just as He was with Shadrach, Abednego, and Mishach in the middle of the fiery furnace. To go through pain with God is so much better than to walk through all the comforts and pleasures without Him, because He is the ultimate source of all our hearts desire.

It’s almost Friday and my mind is mush. I don’t know what it is, but there’s something inherently funny about chickens and squirrels.

And yes, if the squirrels think you’re a little nutty, you probably are. After all, they should know, right?

Audible has become my favorite app. It helps me pass the time on my long commutes to and from work, as well as all the other places I frequent in my Jeep.

I just finished the complete Sherlock Holmes stories and am now embarking on all the novels of Charles Martin, starting with The Dead Don’t Dance. I’ve read most of his books already, but I’m looking forward to revisiting some of them and checking out a few I’ve not heard before.

Charles Martin is a faith-based writer whose stories are steeped in the South and God. He’s a bit like Nicolas Sparks, but more God-centered and (in my opinion) a better writer.

There’s something about a story that can take you away in your imagination, especially when you’re stuck in creeping rush-hour traffic. Unfortunately, I can only go to these places in my mind, but at least I get to have pictures painted in my mind other than the back of the car in front of me.

It also takes me back to all those road trips back in the day where we listened to books on tape. Anyone remember cassette tapes? Then came books on CD, so at least you didn’t have to worry about one of the tapes breaking in the middle of the story.

Now, we have Audible. All the books in one place with no changing out tapes or CDs. Ain’t life grand?

God, my shepherd! I don’t need a thing.
You have bedded me down in lush meadows,
you find me quiet pools to drink from.
True to your word,
you let me catch my breath
and send me in the right direction.
Even when the way goes through
Death Valley,
I’m not afraid
when you walk at my side.
Your trusty shepherd’s crook
makes me feel secure.
You serve me a six-course dinner
    right in front of my enemies.
You revive my drooping head;
    my cup brims with blessing.
Your beauty and love chase after me
    every day of my life.
I’m back home in the house of God
    for the rest of my life” (Psalm 23, The Message).

“We are on the way to glory, so let us sing as we journey thither ; and as the lark, ascending up to heaven’s gate, sings as she soars, her wings keeping time with her music, and mounting in her song as she rises through the air, so let it be with us, — every day a psalm, every night a day’s march nearer home, a little nearer to heaven’s music, and a little better imitation of it. Let us sing now, in our hearts if not with our lips; and when the time comes, let us join our lips with our hearts, and sing unto the Lord. That is our text, ‘Sing unto the Lord, O ye saints of his, and give thanks at the remembrance of his holiness’” (Charles Spurgeon).

I heard a sermon today that blew my mind a little . . . in a good way. It was about why we as the Church sing when we gather together. I mean, why not sing by ourselves? Why do we need to sing with other people?

Worship is not just vertical, stretching from us on earth to God in heaven. It’s also horizontal. We’re commanded to “[t]ell of your joy to each other by singing the Songs of David and church songs. Sing in your heart to the Lord” (Ephesians 5:19, The Living Bible). We’re to sing not just with each other but to each other, reminding each other of God’s faithfulness.

The pastor said something profound. While each church has its own worship minister, sometimes you might just be a worship minister to someone near you. When you’re going through your own valley of the shadow of death and can still sing of the goodness of God, someone else might hear your song and be inspired to sing their own song of praise.

For your story to be known requires you being in community. For you to be willing to share your song requires transparency and vulnerability. It means singing when you’d rather be weeping, or sometimes singing even while you’re weeping.

You don’t have to be a great singer — or even a good singer. You may not be a fan of singing even in the shower for fear that someone might walk by and hear you. But you can make a joyful noise.

I heard this illustration from our worship minister. You may not be a professional dancer. You may not even be any good at dancing or even like to dance. But if your daughter asks you to go with her to the Daddy-Daughter dance, you will go and you will dance, not because you love dancing but because you love your daughter.

In the same way, you sing not for love of your own voice or for the love of singing but because you love the One who first loved you. You sing because of the One who sings over you every night. You sing because the overflow of joy at what God has done for you wells up in you and flows out of you uncontrollably.

“In this life we are all just walking up the mountain and we can sing as we climb or we can complain about our sore feet. Whichever we choose, we still gotta do the hike. I decided a long time ago singing made a lot more sense” (Author Unknown).

When you sing in the middle of sorrow, you’re declaring God’s faithfulness and believing in the promises of God over and against the reality of your circumstances. You are declaring the ultimate victory even while walking in what looks like a losing battle.

It doesn’t matter whether you’re a great singer or not. It doesn’t even matter if you can carry a tune in a bucket. What matters is that you can make a joyful noise to the Lord. In the same way that a father who knows he can’t dance will go to a Daddy-Daughter dance with his daughter even if he doesn’t like dancing because he loves his daughter. In the same way, we sing not out of ability or love for singing but out of a deep love for God in response to the extreme and unconditional love that He’s shown us.

“In this life we are all just walking up the mountain and we can sing as we climb or we can complain about our sore feet. Whichever we choose, we still gotta do the hike. I decided a long time ago singing made a lot more sense” (Author Unknown).

So many will do for others and give without a moment’s hesitation yet will never once ask for help. So many feel like they aren’t allowed to be the recipients of charity or help. Yet they are the ones who probably need it more than anyone.

First of all, it’s never wrong to need help. It’s never wrong to admit that you can’t do it alone. It’s not weakness to have others do for you. Besides, the Apostle Paul himself could say that weaknesses weren’t something to be ashamed of but to boast in because that’s where the power of God is perfected.

Still, notice those around you who are always helping others and doing for others. Be willing to look beyond the surface to see where the other might be struggling or in need. And sometimes you need to be persistent in offering to help because they won’t admit they need it.

The old motto isn’t true about God only helping those who can help themselves. In fact, He goes to those who can’t help themselves. He helps those who know they are powerless and in need. He is close to the brokenhearted and the crushed in spirit. He is near to all who call on Him in faith.

At the very least we can pray for those who are strong for everyone else but never take thought of themselves. They might refuse our help but they can never refuse our prayers to an Almighty God who sees and knows more than we do or even more than the people in need do. And that kind of prayer avails much.

I think the biggest lesson I am learning right now is that it’s foolish to put all my hopes and desires into this present world alone. It’s not wrong to want to seek happiness, but it’s wrong to think that everything I yearn for can be found on this side of heaven.

I think C. S. Lewis said that sometimes God puts desires into us that nothing in this world can satisfy to show us that we were made for another world. No Amazon package, no car, no house, no job, no spouse can fully fill the gaping hole of longing that we carry.

And yet I forget. I keep thinking that something other than God and heaven can completely bring me joy and peace. To think that God can give me happiness apart from Himself is foolishness because it doesn’t exist (and I’m pretty sure C. S. Lewis said that, too).

Learning to live with a bit of discontent is to understand that the life of faith is a kind of now and not yet proposition. We have salvation and all that comes with it, but not in its complete form. We have joy, but it has not been made full. We have peace, but still mixed with all the anxieties of this life.

We have faith, but one day that faith will be made sight and our joy made complete and our eyes will see what we were really longing for all along, and it will be Jesus. Only Jesus.