Waiting and Praying Through

praying-cuteness

“Did you catch what this self-assured judge said? If he can be moved to act justly, won’t God bring justice for His chosen people when they cry to Him day and night? Will He be slow to bring them justice? Mark My words: God will intervene fast with vindication. But here’s the question: when the Son of Man comes, will He find anyone who still has faith? (Luke 18:6-8)

Something Aaron Bryant said tonight at Kairos really caught my attention. He said something to the effect of “If God granted you that one big thing you’ve been praying for at that very moment you asked for it, what would happen? Would you be ready for it?”

If God gave you that hot-looking guy or gal, how would that turn out? Would that relationship implode because you weren’t emotionally ready for such a relationship? Would getting that career you asked for cause your family relationships to suffer because of the extra work hours and responsibility?

I know one of God’s best gifts to me has been not giving me what I asked for that I thought I had to have right then and there. For one, what I asked for was stupid and for two, I wasn’t near ready for it.

That girl that I was certain God should bless me with as a wife? I can’t even remember her name. All I know is that our marriage would have been one big hot mess.

According to one wise church member, God has four answers to my prayers: 1) “Yes”, 2) “No”, 3) “Maybe”, and 4) “Are you kidding me?”.

I know you could never imagine God saying that last one. But think of some of the things you’ve prayed for. I can think of times when I prayed for my team to win a game or another team to lose. I can think of a time or two when I prayed for a really attractive girl to be attracted to me. Probably we’ve all prayed that the whole bag of Oreos we ate in one setting would turn to muscle and not fat.

God sometimes makes us wait for what we pray for so we can see if what we’ve asked for is something we want or something we need. Like praying for a Porsche versus praying for reliable transportation.

Right now, my prayer is that God does whatever it takes to conform me into the image of Jesus. That people come away from me having met Jesus, even if they don’t remember my name. That I can be the best me that God made me to be.

And if you don’t remember anything else, remember to keep on praying and don’t give up. Ever.

Something Borrowed, Something Blogged

I got this out of a devotional called Streams in the Desert. It’s from July 26. I hope it speaks to you as loudly and profoundly as it did to me when I first read it.

Enjoy and thank me later.

“There are times when things look very dark to me–so dark that I have to wait even for hope. It is bad enough to wait in hope. A long-deferred fulfillment carries its own pain, but to wait for hope, to see no glimmer of a prospect and yet refuse to despair; to have nothing but night before the casement and yet to keep the casement open for possible stars; to have a vacant place in my heart and yet to allow that place to be filled by no inferior presence–that is the grandest patience in the universe. It is Job in the tempest; it is Abraham on the road to Moriah; it is Moses in the desert of Midian; it is the Son of man in the Garden of Gethsemane.

There is no patience so hard as that which endures, ‘as seeing him who is invisible’; it is the waiting for hope.

You have made waiting beautiful; You have made patience divine. You have taught us that the Father’s will may be received just because it is His will. You have revealed to us that a soul may see nothing but sorrow in the cup and yet may refuse to let it go, convinced that the eye of the Father sees further than its own.

Give me this Divine power of Yours, the power of Gethsemane. Give me the power to wait for hope itself, to look out from the casement where there are no stars. Give me the power, when the very joy that was set before me is gone, to stand unconquered amid the night, and say, “To the eye of my Father it is perhaps shining still.” I shall reach the climax of strength when I have learned to wait for hope. –George Matheson

Strive to be one of those–so few–who walk the earth with ever-present consciousness–all mornings, middays, star-times–that the unknown which men call Heaven is “close behind the visible scene of things.”