An Open Prayer on a Day of Discouragement

"'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong...I will most gladly spend and be spent for your souls. If I love you more am I to be loved less?" (2 Corinthians 12: 9-10, 15 ESV)

My husband and his wuzwife, (I like the sound of that better than ex-wife) each have responsibility for their kids half the time. Every few days the kids endure cataclysmic change. In the moment it takes to exit a vehicle and walk in the door of a house, the accepted standards of behavior, the priorities, the way people treat each other, the values, and the food all change drastically.

The kids' stress on transition days often manifests itself in rudeness, anger and defensiveness. Intellectually, I think I understand what is going on. Emotionally, I have not yet learned how to steel myself against the hurricane of turmoil and conflict that slams into my peaceful home each week. I get discouraged, deeply discouraged sometimes.

Below is the prayer I prayed on one difficult day when my discouragement collided with Paul's attitude and courage in 2 Corinthians 12.

I share it, hoping that walking with me will encourage someone else who gets the wind knocked out of them on occasion.
If there is someone reading this who also faces discouragement, opposition from within and without, this is my prayer for you too.

A disclaimer: When I talk to God, I pour out my feelings untempered and uncensored. I am pretty melodramatic. It is OK. God already knows the intensity of my emotions. He can take it.  He also knows that he is not going to let me fall, and that just pouring everything out to Him makes me feel better.

My Prayer:

O God,

I feel like an outsider in my own family. My walls of my house are no barrier to the enemy that seeks to undo us. The boundaries are so porous that a cell phone call can penetrate them with flaming darts and wreak havoc.  'Hardship, persecution, and calamity' (2 Corinthians 12:9, ESV) march right through my safest place unfettered.  How can I be content?

"I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me."

The power of Christ...the power of the resurrection. The power that holds all things together. Yet, even you submitted to suffering and persecution for a time.

Lord, I want to be like you. Though you suffered you never panicked. You wept, but you were not anxious. I know that if I had the perfect life, I would not cling so closely to you. These problems and my own inability to change things, create an opportunity.

I have the opportunity to "boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me." Oh Jesus, for your sake, help me to be content with weaknesses (mine and my family member's), insults (from angry stepkids), hardships (undermining, and meddling from the outside), persecutions (unfair treatment), and calamities. I choose to believe that when I am weak, then I am strong.

This battle is not against any flesh and blood person. This battle is against the evil powers in this dark world (Ephesians 6:12). Evil is my enemy.

Oh, Lord, let the power of Christ rest upon me. Help me to continue to hope, to trust, to persevere. I pray that you will give me eyes to see your mighty hand moving. Help me see your fingerprints on this infuriating situation and this day.
Amen

Tales of the Restoration Part III: How to Avoid Handyman Syndrome

I am part of the microwave generation. I am not very patient. When I am hungry, I want my meals hot, tasty and now. When I am hit with a problem, I want it banished immediately. I don't usually panic. Rather, I scheme. When a relational crisis erupts, I leap into handyman mode. I analyze the problem and how it can be fixed quickly. I grab whatever tools are within my grasp and begin banging around with my wrench and duct tape. There are many flaws in this approach. I am sloppy. I have no idea what I am doing. And, I serve as my own strategist, army, and clean up crew. I act like I am on my own. 

The master of the universe loves me. He is listens to me and yet, I act like I have to do it myself?  This is silly.  It is more than silly.  It is stupid. 

I need to react more like a body reacts. When I stub my toe, does it immediately run off by itself for a splint and some ibuprofen? No, of course not! How would a disembodied toe take pain medication? It sends a distress signal to the head in the form of pain. I guess pain is a form of prayer, a cry for help.  

I Corinthians 12 compares Christians to a body. Christ is the head and each of us is a small but vital part of the body. When crisis hits, the best thing to do is to slow down, remember that I am connected to the rest of the body, and send a pain signal to the head. The thing to do is pray.  

Nehemiah was hit with a crisis. Instead of leaping into action, he leaped into intense prayer. He prayed for four months. He didn't do anything to fix the crisis in all that time. He didn't even allow himself to look sad at work. 

The bigger the crisis, the more I need to resist the urge to scheme. Instead, I need to throw my energy into praying and waiting. Often I need to pray and refrain from all forms of the handyman syndrome. I might be called to do nothing at all, except pray for months. In the process, I remember that I am not alone. I am not created to be Atlas, trying to hold the world on my shoulders. Praying reminds me that it is God, and not me, who holds all things together. 

Tales of the Restoration Part II: Eavesdropping in the Throneroom

When things are really bad, sometimes it helps to follow another person's lead. 

Nehemiah was blindsided by a crisis.  The situation seemed hopeless.  Nehemiah was far away and isolated*.   When the crisis hit, Nehemiah reacted with intense grief.  Then he turned to fasting and prayer.  Nehemiah's prayer is written out for us in Nehemiah 1: 5-11.  It is a great model to use in times of crisis.

If I had been in Nehemiah's place, I would probably have gone straight to telling God what to do.  I would tell him how to fix my problem, and demand that he take care of things immediately. Nehemiah didn't do that.  His prayer doesn't even mention the problem for quite a while. I picture the harried cupbearer taking a very deep breath, and slowing himself down.

The first thing Nehemiah says is, "O Lord God of heaven, the great and awesome God who keeps covenant and steadfast love with those who love him and keep his commandments..."  Wait a minute.  God already knew all that. Why did Nehemiah have to use the long title?

It reminds me of the old stories where commoners must bow their foreheads to the ground and recite a very long list of the king's flowery titles before being allowed to ask the king for justice. But why? The king's title isn't repeated because the king can't remember his own job description.  The title is used because it is good and right that the commoner respectfully acknowledge who he is addressing before he dashes right in. Maybe that is exactly what is happening here. I don't think God needed to be reminded that he was a great and awesome God.  I think Nehemiah needed to remember that God was bigger than his present crisis, even though it was a big crisis.

After addressing God as a great and awesome God, Nehemiah identifies God as the one who keeps his promises, especially one promise. God promised to love his people steadfastly, loyally, stubbornly. I think Nehemiah needed to remember that God was not indifferent in the face of the crisis.  God could be trusted to act in love.

Finally, Nehemiah asked God to listen. God wasn't distracted. He wasn't waiting for someone to catch his attention. These words were also for Nehemiah's benefit. He needed to know that God was listening.

It is a good starting point isn't it?  When we are confronted with a crisis, we'd best run straight to the throne room.  After all, the king is our dad.  We can run crying to him, but it is a good thing to take a deep breath and remember 3 things.

Number 1:  God is big.  He is really, really big.  He is more than powerful enough to handle your present crisis.  No matter what it is, even if it is a devastating, suck-all-the-air-out-of-your-lungs, this-is-the-end kind of crisis, God is bigger than it is.  

Number 2: God's steadfast love has never left you.  No matter how bad it is, God will always love you, even if no one else does.

Number 3: The God who holds together heaven and earth is paying close attention to you.  He knows your words.  He even knows your heart and your heartache.  He is watching over you; you have His attention.  Spill it all out to him.  God is listening.  Really!

*For more background see the blog post from September 16, Tales of the Restoration Part 1.