Devoted to Prayer

“Devote yourselves to prayer, keeping alert in it with thanksgiving” (Colossians 4:2, TLV).

The Oxford definition of the word devote means “give all or a large part of one’s time or resources to (a person, activity, or cause).”

Does that describe your prayer life? I can say with all honesty (and some shame) that it does not describe mine. I pray when it’s convenient or when I just so happen to remember to pray. I’ve been known to tell people I will pray for them and then forget moments later and never actually pray for them.

But the life of a true disciple is marked by prayer. I’m no believer in a health and wealth prosperity gospel but I believe that spiritual breakthroughs can come from seasons of devoted prayer. Not five minutes here and five minutes there but intentional time set aside for daily prayer.

I read about those spiritual heroes who had so much to do that they couldn’t not spend two hours in the morning before their day got started. I probably couldn’t stay focused for 15 minutes, much less two whole hours.

But I think that comes with discipline. That comes with when your desire for prayer is greater than your desire for anything else you could be doing at that moment. Sometimes, it comes in times of great desperation. Sometimes, it comes with spiritual euphoria.

I think the lack of prayer shows in the lives of most believers. We’re not prepared for spiritual warfare. We’re not ready to have gospel conversations with the people around us. Many times, our lives don’t look very different from the lives of nonbelievers around us.

But the good news is that it’s never too late to start and best of all, God loves to hear from His children at any time, no matter for how long or for how well or poorly we think we’re praying. He wants to hear from us much more than we want to speak with Him.

Lord, give us hearts devoted to prayer. Make us true prayer warriors whose lives flow out of victories gained by going to the Father in the secret places. Amen.

An Evening Prayer

“Lord, we come to You not because you are our last hope, but because You are our first love.

We’re not waiting to come to You only when we think there’s nothing else we can do. We’re coming to You *before we do anything at all* because waiting on You is *wisest* of all. We trust You to work all this out in Your good time — because that will be the best time, and You are only good and You hold all time. *Kneeling the most lets us stand the bravest.* Tonight we kneel and lay our painful problems in Your hands and thank You for the perfect peace You put in our hearts.

In Jesus’ name, Amen. #EveningPrayer#RestinginHisWord” (Ann Voskamp).

Lord, I confess that I only come to You when I need something. Often, You are my last resort. I acknowledge that when everything is going well, I simply don’t see my need for You. It’s only when life gets difficult and stressful that I finally manage to look up to You.

Thank You for being patient with me. You have shown me more mercy than I deserve. If You treated me the way I treat You most of the time, I probably wouldn’t be here. I’d definitely be a lot worse off than I am.

But Your word says that You are faithful even when I’m faithless. You continue to work in me even when I don’t work at all. You honor Your promise to complete what You started in me even when I make promises to You that I don’t keep.

I know that I can look back and see growth. I can see change. I can see that in the past, my lackadaisical faith wouldn’t have bothered me nearly as much as it does now. I can see that I am more committed to You than I was last year or in the last decade.

Lord, make me more like You. Period.

Chocolate Is Salad

It sorta makes sense if you think about it.

In my own fantasy world, I’d be able to eat all the chocolate and not get fat or turn into a diabetic. But even in that fantasy world, I’d probably get as sick of chocolate as of anything else that I ate exclusively for days and days.

Chocolate is so good because it’s a treat. It’s rare. It’s not an every day thing. That’s what makes it good.

You could take that and apply it to anything spiritual.

It’s like sex within marriage versus all the time with just anybody.

It’s like being financially responsible while allowing yourself to splurge every now and then versus impulse buying all the time and disregarding your bank account.

Discipline is a dirty word in this culture, but it can be a beautiful thing if you can learn delayed joy instead of always caving in to instant gratification. Good things do come to those who wait indeed.

Now if I could only train myself to crave salads instead of chocolate all the time.

Back to the Lost Art of Porch Sitting

A few months back I wrote about the joys of front porch sitting. Today, I had the chance to fulfill that wish in real time. I was able to sit in an honest to goodness rocking chair on an honest to goodness front porch and look down that winding gravel road.

Honestly, I’m not very good at it yet. I think I — like so many of us — am programmed with the urge to look at my device instead of looking up. But I think I’m getting better at it. I was able to put my phone face down and simply bask in the breezes blowing all around me.

Thankfully, it wasn’t 1000 degrees outside this time. I even thought for a moment that it might rain, which would have been especially pleasant sitting on that porch under a tin roof with the rain coming down. But alas, that didn’t happen.

Lots of houses still have front porches, but I rarely see anyone taking the time to sit on their front porch. We’re probably in the busiest time in the history of the world with people accomplishing the least (or at least hardly anything of true significance). We are slaves to the tyranny of the urgent (which is a great little book that everyone should read at some point).

But sitting on a front porch is simply the art of doing nothing. It’s choosing to exist in the moment that God made like Martha who chose to sit at Jesus’ feet rather than worry about so many distracting and competing tasks. And yes, I know that Mary also did a good thing in being a good host but Martha chose the better way.

It takes practice to sit on a front porch well. You almost have to retrain your brain for the slower rhythm and learn to see everything again. You almost have to become a little child again (although I don’t know too many little children who are good at sitting still for long periods of time) by remembering the art of awe and wonder at God’s creation.

From now on, I want to waste as much time as I can sitting on front porches, especially on near fall-like days like today.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

“I’m not there yet, nor have I become perfect; but I am charging on to gain anything and everything the Anointed One, Jesus, has in store for me—and nothing will stand in my way because He has grabbed me and won’t let me go. Brothers and sisters, as I said, I know I have not arrived; but there’s one thing I am doing: I’m leaving my old life behind, putting everything on the line for this mission. I am sprinting toward the only goal that counts: to cross the line, to win the prize, and to hear God’s call to resurrection life found exclusively in Jesus the Anointed. All of us who are mature ought to think the same way about these matters. If you have a different attitude, then God will reveal this to you as well. For now, let’s hold on to what we have been shown and keep in step with these teachings” (Phil. 3:12-16).

One thing that I keep learning and re-learning is that you can’t keep doing the same old things in the same old way and expect new results. You can’t keep doing things the way you’ve always done them and expect change.

The old definition of insanity holds true: doing the same thing over and over and each time expecting a different result.

Growth in the Christian life is a matter of discipline drenched in grace. You supply the disciplines and the effort and realize that even then, it’s only grace that brings about the real change.

Without grace, you can grit your teeth and lace up those old bootstraps and work for all you’re worth and still be the same old you.

It’s all grace. Even the desire from within to change is because of grace.

Let’s make 2016 different because we no longer belief that maturity and growth come through the osmosis of sleeping with a Bible under our pillows. Let’s train ourselves to be not the same old people we were in 2015, but people who will diligently hunger and thirst after Jesus and His words, no matter what.

The end.

 

The Five Longest Minutes

I tried an experiment on my second visit of the evening to St. Paul’s Episcopal Church. I set the timer on my phone for five minutes, and I spent five minutes in silence, not reading anything, not saying anything, not looking my phone. It was just me sitting in a pew in semi-darkness for five minutes.

Five long minutes.

It’s amazing how society has conditioned us to need almost constant stimuli from the radio, television, tablets, internet, and smart phones. Our attention span is so much shorter than it was even twenty years ago.

It’s good for the soul to be silent.

I think of it like rebooting a computer every so often. It helps it to run more smoothly and to reset the equilibrium when things get a bit off-kilter.

We need rebooting periodically. That’s what silence and meditation are for.  That’s what prayer and fasting are for. That’s why God instituted the Sabbath as a day of rest, although historically His people haven’t been very good at using that day for the purpose of which it was intended.

I’m not very good at any kind of silence. That five minutes seemed a lot longer to me than five minutes. It definitely seemed a lot longer than five minutes spent on Pinterest or Instagram. I’ve been known to waste way more than five minutes scrolling through the posts on Facebook at the end of the day.

Silence takes discipline, something that the culture around us seems to treat with disdain. You don’t see or hear many advertisements extolling the virtues of discipline and self-denial. Usually, it’s quite the opposite.

So there I was in that quiet space for five whole minutes, not saying anything, not reading anything, praying as I felt led. It was refreshing and soul-cleansing. I felt more relaxed and less anxious. I felt at peace with myself and with God.

I should probably do that more often.

 

Listening with Soft Eyes

I heard someone use an intriguing expression today in a conversation. She talked about empathetic listening and used the expression “listen with soft eyes.”

If you take it literally, it sounds kind of stupid. Of course, people listen with their ears, not their eyes. But when you take into account that 90% of communication is nonverbal, it starts to make more sense.

Most of us (me emphatically included) tend to listen not to hear but to respond. All the while the other is speaking, we’re coming up with the perfect retort to win the argument or the perfect solution to fix the other’s problem.

To me, listening with soft eyes means listening with compassion. It means I don’t try to fix the way you feel– even if it seems irrational and counterproductive to me. It’s me saying, “I know what you’re going through is hard and I know you must feel scared or tired or frustrated. I’ve felt like that lots of times before.”

Real listening is an art form that takes practice. Especially if you have a flighty attention span like me. You have to train yourself to listen not to just words being spoken but to facial expressions, tone of voice, body language, etc.

I confess that while I like to think I’m a good listener, many times I am anything but. I can get distracted and lose the train of the conversation and walk away without any clue about what the other person was saying.

I think a lot of us do that. It’s happened to a lot of us. And it’s frustrating when you know you’re not being heard. Truly heard.

So one of my Second Half of 2015 Resolutions is to work on listening better. Being a better friend, husband, wife, lover, father, mother, son, daughter, or anything else starts by being a better listener.

So, I’m learning to listen with soft eyes.

 

300 Words

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My goal every time I sit down to write one of these posts is 300 words.

I don’t always have a defined topic when I start typing. Sometimes, I’ll be halfway through a blog before an idea will hit me. Sometimes, I end up with a very stream-of-consciousness, vague-and-shadowy type of blog.

I’ve decided that not every blog I write has to reinvent the genre. Not every single post will be a literary classic. Some will stink like my cat’s week-old kitty litter. But for me, the joy is sitting down in front of my trusty laptop (or iPad) and clicking away on the keys to produce something that wasn’t there before.

Honestly, there are times when I get discouraged by the fact that less people are reading these than were a year ago. I’m just keeping it real. But then I have to remind myself that this is for me and if I only have an audience of one, I’m okay with that.

Sometimes, I feel like I’m repeating myself and essentially saying a lot of the same things over and over. Maybe some of you are like me and it takes you way more than once before a truth sinks in. For me, it’s more like five or six times.

For me, it’s about the discipline of writing something down every single day. Plus, it’s always fun to look back at some older posts and remember what was going on in my life and what I was thinking and feeling at the time. It’s a good indicator of how far God has brought me along the road of healing and wholeness.

So there’s a little more insight into what goes on in my little ol’ noggin. In case you were wondering. And that, my friends, brings us to 300 words.

 

 

 

 

Lessons from Lent

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This may be old hat for you or not. I’m not sure. But stop me if you’ve heard some or all of this before: last year, I gave up only Facebook for Lent. This year, I decided to give up all social media. It turned out to be one of my best decisions ever. Although if I’m honest, I was being obedient to what I felt God was calling me to do. It really wasn’t my decision at all.

I don’t regret for one single second going without social media for those 46 days. I got in more prayer time, I read my Bible more, I read more books in general. Plus, I had a greater sense of peace from not being tied down to Facebook or Twitter.

I think sometimes in order to appreciate something more, you need to step away from it for a while. That was the case for me. I did sometimes feel out of the loop after missing all the news from Facebook. But I can always catch up on that.

Lent is more than just giving up. It’s replacing it with something better. It’s no good to give up social media if you’re going to fill up the time with television. Hopefully, you spend your extra free time in learning to hear God’s voice and hear His heartbeat and feel His love for you. Obviously, the best way to do that is through His Word.

I don’t claim that I was anywhere near perfect in that regard. I wasted too much of the time I had away from social media. But I’m not beating myself up about it. Instead I choose to focus on the fact that I was more discipline in regard to prayer and Bible reading than I’ve been in a long time.

I hope to be able to participate in Lent again next year. I hope that I can be free enough to walk away from anything that enslaves me and takes my eyes off Jesus, whether that be social media or TV or anything else.

Like I said before, it’s really not about giving up stuff or sacrificing what you love. More than that, it’s about prioritizing your life and making sure that Jesus and His Kingdom really and truly are first. Then everything else will line up and fall into proper place.

17 Days In

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I reported to you earlier that I had decided to give up not only Facebook, but all forms of social media this year for Lent. Obviously excluding WordPress.

It’s been 17 days (by my count) out of 46. So far, so good. I haven’t missed social media like I thought I would. In fact, most of the time, I don’t really even think about it much.

I’ve used my newfound free time in catching up on my reading and movie watching. On the book front, I’m currently reading Anne of the Islands (the third book of the Anne of Green Gables series– don’t judge) as well as diligently reading through The Voice translation of the Bible (I’m up to Isaiah 23).

Recently, I re-watched all the Harry Potter movies and remembered why I liked them so much the first time. Also, I was astounded all over again at how many incredible well-known actors they enlisted for these film adaptations of children’s books.

I find myself less anxious and more calm without social media. I do miss seeing what my friends post, but I also don’t miss checking to see who commented on my own posts (a bad habit that I still sometimes struggle with).

I’m still praying for more discipline and more willingness to create space and silence for God to speak to me. I’m praying for the ability to quiet my own mind and listen to that Still Small Voice that will never compete with my own noise.

That’s all I have for now. I’ll keep you posted for the remaining 29 days of Lent.