Prayer & Aunt Beulah's Pancakes

Joy to the World, the Lord has come!!

Where do you find joy in the day to day?

For me it was always at Aunt Beulah’s. Whenever anyone of us got sick, mom would send us down the long dirt road for some of her famous pancakes. On the way back, we weren’t any less sick, just happy in the taste buds!

If we could capture the predominant emotion circling the throne of God, I believe it would be joy. The kind every new husband feels seeing his bride walk the aisle. (Rev 21:2) When God gives us Himself, He gives us joy. Call Him the pancake for the soul—our vital connection through prayer! “In His presence is fullness of joy, at his right hand are pleasures for evermore.”

There will be days when we drag our weary bones into His presence, not feeling especially affectionate, or motivated to be there. Yet, if we remain, it doesn’t take long before God lifts the chin, and lets us see a bigger picture stretched out farther than our immediate. Nothing has changed in circumstance, only in circumference. God has pushed our vision beyond the tired and tedious, and let our eyes rest on a landscape filled with His perspective. Our spirit is buoyed by joy’s transcendent nature, which often comes through genuine encounters with God.

The hard part is waiting. But try this. Pretend you’re resting in the lap of your mom or dad, and they’re reading your favorite bedtime story. Don’t fret over how long you’re there, just “Taste and see that the Lord is good….” We can be satisfied in the spiritual taste buds by waiting on God who wants to give us a heaping portion of what will make us truly happy—His presence! When that happens He lifts us up to a broad place, sort of how Aunt Beulah’s pancakes used to put a smile on my face.

Wait at the throne until you touch the King!

Christ's Mission, Our Devotion

During Christ’s final week He taught in the temple, “and each evening he went out to spend the night on the hill called the Mount of Olives.” We don’t know what he did on that hardscrabble heap, certainly didn’t get a good night’s rest. I’ve been there, nothing but rocks and roots! I bet he prayed though. A lot! In fact, my guess is He was interceding for the disciples, asking the Holy Spirit to finish the work He began.

Intercession. It’s what Jesus modeled, and is still doing “at the right hand of God.” (Romans 8:34) He’s in the crease stretched out between heaven and earth, uniting our hearts to our home in heaven, and lifting up tired arms.

When we intercede in prayer, we join the suffering of our fellow man, while at the same time drawing closer to God. A person who has learned to pray becomes a lonely prophet, for he lives in the place where love for men draws him closer to their sin than he wants to be, and love for God draws him away into a solitary spiritual rest. Jeremiah is a good example—a lonely outpost of spiritual intensity; misunderstood, obeying when nothing felt right, and playing the prophets hand for the prophet’s reward—sorrow & suffering.

The next time you ascend your ‘hardscrabble heap’, remember that Jesus prays for you. What does he ask the Father? I imagine it’s the same as He did for those first disciples. “Holy Spirit, remind them of your eternal presence, sweep them into Father’s arms, cleanse them from sins of dominion, build courage from the throes of failure, overcome their reluctance to pray, motivate them to faith, and breath life into their tired limbs.”

When we participate with Christ in intercession, we are doing what He constantly does, and therefore becoming more like Him with every pleading breath.

Invite around you a team of seven to intercede for you.
Take note and follow through on what God shows you during prayer.
Ask God to give you a hunger for the ministry of intercession.

Crazy Uncles Can Make Good Soldiers

“For with you is the fountain of life; in your light we see light.” Ps 36:9

It was David the fugitive, who found himself surrounded by 400 men,“distressed, in debt and bitter of soul.” Not your typical ‘band of brothers.’ How would you have handled this company of crazy uncles? Counseling session? Finance seminar? Marching drills?

You know what’s the first thing David did?

He took them to war!

The logical was erased by the theological! After God tells David to go save the city of Keilah,* David tells the 400, but they balk. “We’re too scared to fight,” they say. So David inquires of God a second time. But now something changes—in David! Notice the response from his men after David returns. They jump to their feet and follow! You know why? In God’s light a fresh face of courage returned to David.

What kind of face are you wearing these days? Fierce? Fatigued? Fallen? When we encounter the living God we will jump to our feet and follow Him. Here are a few items to help us find the light of His presence.

Abide! Andrew Murray says, “The Branch Life gives power for prayer.” Theologically, to go to war means to get on our knees. The devotion of prayer pours perspective and energy into us without fail.

Lift your chin! Ask God for a fresh vision of the Captain. Listen to Him, look into his fierce eyes, and follow His lead. Don’t be surprised if what He says doesn’t seem logical!

Enjoy! If it’s been a while since you spent an unhurried day with God, plan it now! When’s the first relatively free day? Go ahead, put it in. It will take herculean effort to plan it, and God’s favor to execute. But you will go on the strength of it for many days.

Share Christ! There’s nothing more invigorating than listening to the Holy Spirit extol Jesus Christ using your dialect. If it’s been a while, drop everything and go!

Dream! “Will you ignore the voices that scream, “you can’t,” and embrace God’s promise, “Nothing is impossible with Me?”

When we inquire of God, He will take us to war!

Spicing up your love life

“May the Lord direct your hearts into God’s love and Christ’s perseverance.”
II Thess 3:5
“Prayer is being loved at a deep, sweet level.”
Richard Rohr

Paul prayed that the Lord would ‘direct hearts into God’s love and Christ’s perseverance. Love and perseverance are two sides of the same coin. Christ loved us by walking under a weight of suffering. It was sheer obedience that kept his feet moving toward the cross. And He did it for the joy set before Him! Perfect devotion and duty melded into a single act of love. Honestly, I find it hard to walk the razor sharp line between the two. How do we keep love embedded in our hearts as we seek to obey His will? Check these out:

Read the Word as a love note. In 7th grade Lori Sweeny and I had a hot romance going. Only problem was I was too shy to talk to her. So we passed notes in the hall, and when I got to my next class I would pore over hastily scribbled and cheaply scented morsels of her intent. I had to know what she was thinking. God minces no words in telling us His thoughts. Whether it’s a hard word, or a promise, they’re all there to build capacity to love Him.

Run the race for love not place. The African long distance runners are kicking the world’s tails; have been for two decades. Their secret is found in their training. When asked how far they run, they respond, “I don’t know.” How long do you run? “Not sure.” What do you do for training? “We run until we tire. We love to run, why count miles or minutes?” Herein lies the secret to a great prayer life. Pray until you tire—because you love it, not for any other reason.

Francois Fenelon said, “There is only one way to love God: to take not a single step without Him, and to follow with a brave heart wherever He leads.”

Love and perseverance mark healthy devotion. Just as Paul prayed for God to direct hearts to that sweet spot, so let us do the same for the young hearts that grow under our care.

God's Love Coming Back!

Have you felt God’s love coming back to you recently?

In the novel, The Gift, Pete Hamill ends the story by saying, “I hadn’t received much for Christmas in any ordinary way; but my father loved me back, and there was no other gift I wanted.”

For the first time that December, the son on leave from boot camp, risked entering his father’s sanctuary (a bar). As it turned out they fought together defending the honor of a lady. Partnership, respect and pride had passed between them. It’s what happens when we pray.

In Romans 8, Paul tells us that the Spirit ‘helps our weakness,’ literally meaning that he picks up the other end of an object we can’t carry ourselves. When we approach prayer correctly, we are partnering with His Spirit, interceding in the will of God. Prayer brings the child and the Father together, to fight the imps whose foul words and disrespect needs to be put in place. Together, Father and child, we stand back to back, fighting for the dignity and destiny of a generation.

When you step on campus, you’re back to back with your Father, fighting for students to wake up!

When you share your faith across the table at yet another fast food joint, you’re not getting indigestion, you’re standing over the enemy after a knock out punch, looking into your Father’s eyes and knowing His great love toward you.

It’s the joy I sense in abandoning my will to Him in worship, holding out my heart as though it’s all I can give, and feeling as though God is saying…

’I love you, not your worship.

I love you, not your service.

I love you, the person I created, and the person I redeemed.

We are standing together you and I, back to back, and the fight is the thing. Obey me, and you’ll feel the pleasure of my presence, and especially know how proud I am of you. I will love you back, if you risk my sanctuary.

To know God is to know His love. Enter His sanctuary and the Spirit will help you see the Father beam.

Anyway, isn’t that all we ever really wanted?

Whose Voice Do You Hear?

“But as for me, I watch in hope for the Lord,

I wait for God my savior, my God will hear me.” Micah 7:7

Prayer—a soul hunger,

born on a limb,

because I dared obey a Voice.

God has been teaching me that words don’t have to accompany prayer. Sometimes I pray in silence, absorbed by a desire to get close enough to feel His heart beat. But other times, I hear myself chattering on, emptying my grocery bag of requests, quite impressed in fact with the length and profundity of my entreaties. To be honest, after those times, I don’t feel any closer to His heart. That’s because as Dietrich Bonhoeffer put it, “we have heard only ourselves…’

Words normally build intimacy in relationships, because they define feelings and commitment. But with God, who sees right through us, words are not a necessary reinforcement. Are you saying words have no place in prayer? No, not at all. But sometimes He leads us to wait, with a singular focus at attempting to discern His voice. He is pleased by our quiet desperate posture of silence. In fact, at times like these words may even get in the way. Isaiah 30:15 says, “In quietness and trust is your strength.”

So, how do we know if words are getting in the way, or building intimacy?

First, humility will mark our approach. The meek Lamb of God indwells us, and so being filled with Him leaves pride at the threshold.

Second, a peace settles over our heart. We are not rushed, pushed by agenda, or pulled by deadlines. It could be the only time in our day where pure rest happens.

Third, we will listen more than speak. Self test: If I am talking more than half the time, I am speaking twice as much as needed.

Finally, we will leave determined to live holy. True prayer will always leave us hungry to please God, and stronger to obey. It acts like a trickle charge to our spiritual batteries.

Lord, teach me how to watch, to hope and to wait. You will hear me, when I cry from my heart.

Nine Words to Live By

“But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed.”

Luke 5:16

Could there be any nine words we need more to hear?

“But Jesus”—we need to realize that taking cues from Jesus will have us swimming up stream. Everyone was clamoring for a piece of Him, yet He took paddle in hand, and did the hard work of getting alone. Will you?

“Often”—how often we don’t know. He does it again in chapter 6, right before He choose the disciples. Right before he puts in place the corner stones for the entire future of Christianity! Let’s just say it wasn’t hit or miss, but regular, and when God had something monumental to say, He was there to receive it. Will you be there?

“Withdrew”—how strong is your will when it comes to deciding to act independently? Jesus’ intended to hike up the mountain, and He did it. Will you?

“To Lonely Places”—It’s not physical laws the govern focus, but heart attitude. The other day an old woman was locked in prayer on the 8:02 express, head lifted to heaven and lips moving, while silver strands of light danced across her ancient face. Squeezed between two sleeping commuters, she had found her ‘lonely place.’ Have you?

“And Prayed”—Several times over the past year Jesus has asked me; “when will you get it, that there’s nothing more important than prayer in keeping your love alive?” The great goal of Satan is to keep the saints pre-occupied. That way, activity will replace intimacy, and indecision will replace courage.

Drain-Out

On the train approaching my stop, I politely asked the man seated next to me if he could get up. “We’re not there yet,” he said, “what’s the hurry? “ I stared in disbelief. The thought actually raced through my mind—“I’m glad I didn’t try to share my faith with this jerk.” Imagine! I kept leering, and he finally rose from his seat, but not happily. At the door our spat continued. “See, we haven’t stopped yet,” he said, pointing to the moving train. That was it. I leaned forward into his face, and measured my words, “If—I—want—to—get—up—I’ll—get—up,” I seethed. He backed off. I guess my body language scared him.

The incident exhausted me in the moment, but later I realized that I had drained out long before. My routine hadn’t changed, still rose early for devotions, and tucked in the day with prayer. Yet, unbeknownst to me, life had seeped out.

Drain-out differs from burnout, in that it’s a vague tiredness, a heavy step rather than a buoyant skip. The long obedience needed in our call exacts a toll, that unless replenished leaves us fatigued, and a little numb.

The solution? An invitation with a promise.

“Come to me, all who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”

It was said of Moses, that he would often go outside the camp to the tent of meeting, and there meet God. He made an extra effort to sit with Him, while the eyes of a young man named Joshua absorbed a picture of intimacy, a portrait of rest.

How are you? If you feel drained, take a trip ‘outside the camp.’ Sit with Him in order to prepare yourself to be poured out through finishing the school year well—Getaway and all. He is only one step away from the routine.

A Taste for Solitude

“I waited patiently for the Lord, and He inclined to me and heard my cry.”

Psalm 40:1

The word patiently here actually means intently, and conjures an image of intense focus, elevating a single desire above all others. It’s like the solitude needed by athletes getting ready for the big game. Spiritual leaders train themselves in this discipline, because from it comes the creative juices needed to hatch fresh ideas, and the candor required to lead out of conviction.

If a leader denies the tug of the Spirit for solitude, he forfeits a well-spring of foresight-where God’s leading, insight-how He’s leading, and hindsight-why God’s taking him there. The early church fathers didn’t give over-activity a second thought. When confronted by the church to help with a logistical challenge related to irate widows, they responded, “no” by reiterating their priorities. “We will devote ourselves to prayer and to the ministry of the word.” A “no,” even to very good things, is always the fruit of a stronger “yes.” How strong is your yes to the invitation for solitude?

The great challenge of our day is to exchange fragmented sound bytes and data, with an unbroken stream of mercy gushing like a cataract from above the throne of grace. Solitude helps us taste that river like nothing else will.

If solitude eludes you, try the following, but keep in mind baby-steps that lead to progress are better than bounding gaits ending in failure.

Find a place: Whether it’s a park, an attic or a walk in closet.

Make a space: Long enough to settle; nothing scheduled after, and no chance of interruption.

Breathe grace: Listen for kindness and compassion. If you hear anything to the contrary, though you’re alone, you may not be with Jesus. Remember, we wait intently at the throne of grace.

“O taste and see that the Lord is good.” Ps 34

God's Front Door

“Call to me, and I will answer you, and tell you great and mighty things, which you do not know.” Jeremiah 33:3

I have always thought of Jeremiah 33:3 as God’s telephone number. But after a recent study, I’m more inclined to say it’s His front door! Here’s a translation in the New KJY version. “Cry aloud from a place of desperation, I will answer with My Presence (and it will be unmistakable-conspicuous!), in order to reveal and unlock inaccessible places.”

When we enter times of prayer, our mental list of urgent requests can lead us to petition too quickly, when all along God wants us to simply rest, wait and trust that His presence will be enough. Often I am more excited to bend the knee in order to unload my baggage, rather than humble myself before God and enjoy the silence that can often sit between friends. Don’t get me wrong. God says to ask, and don’t stop asking. But it’s His presence that reveals the answers, because during that exchange God lifts my eyes away from the request, and brings my gaze up to His level. Here He speaks. Here I absorb strength. Here demons cannot tread. For a little while at least, I am captured by a love that reassures, a peace that settles and a courage that lets me rest upon an invisible Bosom. When I can hear His heart, I will not give pause, find excuses or rationalize away what He says to do.

The battle can leave us exhausted, thirsty and too tired to care, yet God has a silver lining. Beth Moore says, “He never meant for us to sip His Spirit like a proper cup of tea. He meant for us to hold our sweating heads over the fountain and lap up His life with unquenchable thirst.” It was when Elijah was at his wits end, that God had him ‘stand upon the mountain before the Lord.’( At His front door!) Prayer is holding our head over that fountain of living water.

When we want His presence, we knock on a door He opens. He makes Himself conspicuous in the hard work of fighting for a time and place where earth drops away, and nothing remains but us, together. In these moments words fail, and love prevails, deepening His hold upon us, and unlocking inaccessible places.

‘In His presence is fullness of joy, at his right hand are pleasures forever more.’

A Spiritual Chess Match at 37,00 Feet

His name was Igor, a Russian software developer from Atlanta, bound for St. Petersburg, Russia. The DC-10 was seating perhaps 100 passengers with vast stretches of empty seats, yet there we were squeezed side by side next to the window. At first I wanted to move across the isle, to stretch my cramped legs and enjoy some reading. I’m glad I didn’t. We started talking about the Hermitage museum, and particularly the enormous six by eight painting of the prodigal son on display there. It was easy to transition from that into faith. Igor told me he was Jewish, but that his faith had not been a central part of his life. Twenty-three years ago on his honeymoon, during a four-day train ride he had shared a car with an Orthodox priest, and had been intrigued and challenged by their long conversations. “This feels like that time,” he said, “only I see it much clearer now, the way you put things.”

It was as though time stood still, God melding our hearts together in a seamless stream of theological and cultural facts and anecdotes. At one point he asked me with a serious scowl, “why do Jewish people convert to Christianity?” I remember praying, O God how much better could you lead this discussion? The next hour was filled with animated gestures, sullied brow, anger and smiles of revelation. It felt like a chess match, and my Russian counterpart seemed to be always two or three steps ahead in trying to piece together this amazing story about Jesus. I had the chance to tell it in detail, from the cradle to the cross, and watched as God opened his mind and heart to the possibility that it all could be true. God forged a friendship in those hours, and as traffic at JFK backed up, and the flight was delayed on entry, I silently thanked God for the extra time to answer the myriad of questions he still clung to. Pulling up to the gate, we exchanged information, and plan to have dinner this spring when he comes to New York.

Sitting at the Feet of Jesus

Over the past month an image of sitting at Jesus feet has taken hold in my imagination. The madman in Luke found himself there, “dressed and in his right mind.” Mary sat there, content with only Him. Another woman, “who the Scriptures say, “lived a sinful life,” poured perfume on Him there, and wept in great broken sobs of love. Jairus fell down there, and “pleaded earnestly with Him, “My daughter is dying.”

That one got me. Our oldest daughter Audrey, has been ill now for some time. I have felt gnaws of uncertainty as doctors scratch their heads, and prescribe what may cure. Like Jairus, I have fallen in a heap at Jesus feet and cried for her deliverance, both physically, and spiritually. Sometimes the most powerful prayers course down our cheeks.

Do you find yourself today at Jesus feet? Though many of the instances in Scripture include desperation, we don’t have to wait until the bottom falls out before we go there. His invitation comes to us incessantly, fervently—“come!” As easy as it may seem, how difficult it turns out to be, and how subtle the lies that keep us aloof. Oswald Chambers said it best: The meaning of prayer is that we get hold of God, not the answer.” I like that.

Before you close this, take a moment and imagine yourself at His feet. What do you want to tell Him? What questions are still unanswered? Is there something you dread, that consumes your waking nights? Have you given up on anyone? Have you suspended your faith, traded it for something more manageable or secure?

Nothing is off limits at the feet of perfect Love.

Vision

“For lack of vision, the people run wild….”
Ginnette and I joined staff in the summer of 82.’ We were at CSU along with about 40 other fresh legs, and to say we were ‘Gung Ho’ is putting it mildly! Even so, listening to our leadership reiterate the mission refreshed us, and built a solid frame around our own vision.
Since then, I’ve occasionally needed to step back and kick the tires, so to speak. Do I still believe the mission is possible? Am I still as passionate about reaching every student as when I began? Will I still sacrifice as God leads, putting others first and my own needs behind?
Honestly, I can go a long time without knowing my ‘tires’ need attention. But certain symptoms alert me that my vision has blurred, and my faith has atrophied. I’ve forgotten those first heart stopping, mouth gaping God sightings that kept me lean and hungry in the Great Commission.
Here are a few nails I’ve had to pull from the tire over the years.
I think the organization exists for me. The subtle shift from remembering why I’m here and taking personal responsibility, to thinking corporate owes me. It’s a mental, backward step from adult to child, and it keeps me thinking small. The worst part; it can affect younger leaders. Remember, status quo is a transferable concept.
I think security is found in a place, or through ministry partners. The subtle shift from knowing my hope and trust lie in God, to thinking I’m in God’s will because things run smoothly, or my needs are being met. Fear of change is the single greatest detriment to fresh visionary leadership. When that suffers, the movement shifts into neutral.
I think proven methods equal God’s heart for the mission. The subtle shift from knowing that; ‘unless the Father draws them,’ to thinking because I saw fruit before, I will do this again, and again, and again. I need to ask myself; is my strategy based on history, or the leading of the Holy Spirit?
I think ministry gives life to my spirit. The subtle shift from knowing that love fuels my devotional life, to thinking that my call and duty in ministry will reward my spirit with energy and purpose. If I cater to this usurper, I will eventually find myself in a time capsule, unable or unwilling to move forward through fresh revelation.
At the start of the new decade, ask yourself: Do I remember the mission? Do I believe the mission is possible? Do I remember why I joined the mission, and what I meant to do?

Effectual Prayer

In the days following Pentecost the story of Jesus Christ crucified and risen fueled a revolution of love. Never a man loved the way Jesus did. Never men loved Him so greatly for it.

How does God rouse this kind of devotion in creatures prone to want rather than give, and to horde rather than sacrifice? The answer is found in the mystery of prayer. A man or woman who effectually prays (James 5) becomes a person capable of great love. Here’s how.

First, through prayer self dissolves…Oswald chambers described it as, “so absolutely humanly His, that we are utterly unnoticeable.” Prayer weakens the hold on our stubborn rights, which refuse to bend under God’s leadership. In that kiln the ties that bind us to personal needs are consumed, freeing us to be willing intercessors.

Second, through prayer we identify with others… The act of pleading on someone else’s behalf takes sacrifice. When we spend our intercessional capital on someone else, we reflect Christ, who ever lives to intercede for us. He loves when we ruthlessly identify in prayer with those in need. Just as the cross defines sacrificial love, to take the place of another defines effectual prayer.

Third, through prayer our faith is strengthened. The time we spend waiting in God’s presence elevates a hallowed image of God. The long obedience of that wait harrows the heart-the place where faith is refined and approved. The silver smith knows the alloy is pure when he sees his clear reflection. In our love embrace (prayer) others will see a clearer image of God, because matured faith marvels over the love shared in the godhead,(John 17) and offers it to others.

Finally, through prayer we learn the cost of love. When fear, rejection or uncertainty stare us down, prayer moves us beyond the shawls of convenience, and into deep waters of desperation. When this becomes an unconscious act of worship, we begin to taste something of Christ’s suffering, a willing ministry which transcends our comforts, self interests and passions.

Henry Nouwen once said, “Prayer is not a pious exercise, but the breath of human existence.” To the extent we cultivate a heart to pray, God does and will distill our devotion to what I call the irreducible core—the residue of love left from engaging veiled mystery. We are never closer to Christ than when we are locked in prayer.

The Voice

My feet take me across the counties of New York City, and everywhere they step I seek a Voice to give reason for the chaos, insight to confusion, concrete steps to despair, and kind words for disbelief. The Voice discovered can be the voice to explain. The faces of all I pass search my eyes for a hint, a shard of light to bring hope where darkness has strangled, suffocated, reduced a life to a rote unanswered question leading to apathy, and worse—a tenuous détente that knows not light or darkness, only gray shadows. The Voice leads me away from myself, and towards the pain inherent in place sharing. The Voice moves my steps to places that time has stopped, hearts pierced against inevitable abandonment, ready to break; the Voice sends me there in time to infuse that grain of ash, that reminder of my surrender, the fire that had consumed my claim on time and living, but now wholly given to Him who assures me I am known.
My greatest pursuit is the voice. Only the Voice can bring clarity to the blur, lift to the droop, a smile for sadness, or knowing to perplexity. In every moment of every day I can seek the voice, and so know my place, and feel His assurance. Where the Voice is, that’s where I belong, if not there, then I must turn to the sound by faith. Children always see the face of their Father (Matt 18); therefore humility, child like trust, and a dogged tenacity, ignite through a will that strives to hear it, and obey it when it calls me out of lethargy and into ambiguity. This week a young woman said these words, “I don’t want to wake up when I’m forty years old and realize that I had done nothing to make a difference in this world.” When we walk with God straining by faith to hear the voice, we can rest from striving and anxious longing, and know that if at our post long enough, and faith filled, we will hear unmistakable utterances from the other side. We stand in the cleft, and by us God races to His appointed hour, but never leaves us behind. Instead, He stops long enough to speak, and wills our will to follow. That moment we are suspended between fear and belief tests the metal of our moral courage, and shows us once again that it’s Him from first to last. We do not obey the Voice without His Spirit’s counsel and power.

Studebaker's can teach us....

“Build yourselves up in your most holy faith.” Jude 20

Growing up there was an old Studebaker in the forest behind our house. It hadn’t moved in two decades. The tires had sunk into the dirt, windows smashed; and the hood stuck straight up, as though the doctor were asking it ‘open real wide.’ My friends and I hatched a plan one day to get her back on the road. We set to work, but it wasn’t long before our naïve zeal, turned to boredom. That old relic needed something more than a screwdriver, hacksaw and greasy grins.

In the start up of a year, the business of reconnecting, planning, and engaging in a myriad of relationships can take its toll. If it’s been a while since you paused long and hard to listen, or simply were ‘wowed’ by something God revealed to you, then in some ways you may have parked your pursuit of God in the deep woods. The right tools can make a difference. Jude 20 gives us something to “build yourselves up,” or if you prefer—to re-fire the cylinders.

“Pray in the Holy Spirit”—True prayer originates in the heart of God, and is borne by the Spirit into our spirit. He, the Holy Spirit “helps” our weakness when we don’t know how to pray. To pray reminds us that a fresh surrender to God’s will is a daily need for those on the front lines.

“Keep in the love of God”—All other loves require something from us to keep our end of the bargain. God’s love eliminates the need to work to keep, compare to feel good, or perform to please. Prayer reminds us that perfect love sits between our desire for Him, and His willingness to lavish upon us more than we could ever hope for.

“Wait for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ”—Hope springs eternal in the day to day, for those willing to sit at Jesus feet. Prayer reminds us that when everything else pales, we still hold on, for to pray with hope raises our chin to see eyes of mercy.

Make prayer a habit, until it becomes a passion. It’s more important than any discipline, because it’s the best tool to carry into the woods to get our ‘Studebaker’ back on the road.

Bending Birches

Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us…    Eph 3:20

            It’s no secret that God uses Bible study and prayer to build intimacy between us. But something more is at play while we pore over the word, or carve out time to pray.  He’s planting moral courage,  and planning a funeral for our fear.

            As kids romping through the woods of northern New Jersey, my brother JoJo and I would occasionally come across a stand of white birch. We could never resist the urge to shimmy up their slender, branchless trunks. When we got to the point where we felt the tree bend against our weight, we would stretch one more length, grasp the trunk with both hands, take a deep breath and throw our legs out into nothingness. The tree would bend with elastic grace all the way to the ground! 

            Bending birches has a lot to teach us about the way God grows our heart. Let’s use the shimmying as our devotional life.  It’s hard work, routine—repeatable. We feel like we make progress, but then slip again. But we know we’re barking up the right tree! To open our Bibles is an act of faith, and to pray requires our eyes to focus on the unseen.  As we grip these devotions day to day, without knowing it, we inch upward, we build faith; until the moment God decides we’re ready. That’s when we feel the tree begin to bend. 

            If often starts with a flutter in the belly, as God reveals His will. ‘You want me to do what?’ Other times we may feel agitated, or be admonished, or even suffer disappointment. God wants to break into our contented equilibrium, because He knows our deepest desire is to come face to face with Him. That requires all the focus and faith we can muster. We grow when we trust Him to land us on our feet, even though our hearts are racing, and our mouth is dry. Bible study and prayer prepare us for that critical moment God asks us to jump. These are the times where faith deepens and our view of God expands.  The organ music plays, and God lays our fear to rest.

                         Are you feeling the bend of the birch today?  Hold fast to Him, He is able to do immeasurably more!

            To fear God is to fear nothing but God.

 

Let's pass the "Stick"

“And I sought for a man among them….” Ezekiel 22:30
I was still wet behind the ears in ministry. He was the keynote speaker at a small gathering in northern Minnesota; a portly silver hair, who invited us on a sojourn to find the secret of loving God through prayer. The first night he told us that as a young man he had handed God a fragmented list of goals and desires, and He had fused them into a single passion to seek His heart. He told stories about spending hours in prayer, afraid to rise for fear of missing God’s invitation to draw near enough for transformation.
And when he said, “let us pray,”….Oh my…. His words and posture reflected the fire that simmered in the subterranean depths of his convictions, the flame that had consumed his “discretionary time, silly hobbies, and self serving dreams.”
At first I thought he was unbalanced, too radical. But radical means rooted, and this man had learned that a heart depending on God must be rooted and grounded in love. He kept saying over and over, “the portal to love is prayer.” At some point that weekend, I glanced over my shoulder, stretched out my hand, and grabbed the “stick” from Mr. Silver Hair.
“Stick.” It’s a phrase screamed over the deafening crowds in track & field at the moment one runner passes the baton to another. This aged saint had used the entire weekend to cry “stick,” in hopes that someone would respond. I’m sure he left the weekend a bit disappointed. No one went forward. However, sitting in the second row to the left, still in awe over what he had witnessed, a young man decided he would follow this old man’s lead by learning how to pray.
Lets not forget to yell “stick” loud enough for this generation to hear. The world has become deafening.
Here are a few ideas for passing the stick:
Start Well-Seek out students who show a heart to pray-
Focus –Lead them to the scriptures to build conviction to pray
Listen for the steps -Suggest biographies of great men and women of prayer
Grip the stick-Build stamina in God’s presence through extended times of corporate prayer.
Run to Win-Encourage students to begin prayer movements in their schools.

The Seed and the Husk-Musings in 1 Peter

During this Lenten season I have been reading and studying nothing but 1 Peter. If the first chapter was an opera, verses 22-23 would be the aria. The pinnacle of maturity as a follower of Christ is love. We find here the secret for the context and content of love, as God would have us express it to our brethren in the world. I wrote the following during a train ride into Manhattan after meditating on what it meant when Peter said, "Having purified your souls by your obedience to the truth for a sincere brotherly love, love one another earnestly from a pure heart."

“The degree of love I exhibit is directly related to how well I obey truth as God reveals it. The refining process of obedience distills my character to the essence of the seed of salvation—the seed of love, which the husk of service encases. When I trust God to obey Him, He will lead me into unfamiliar, unkind, unresponsive and unrefined places and people, to whom I am called to love. What I don’t often realize is that the first ministry is love—the SEED! The husk of service blinds me to God’s ultimate desire and destination. We can fall into the trap of saying our ministry is our expression of love, but this is only the husk! If I stumble this way on the husk, I miss the purpose for His leading me in the first place—to love earnestly from the heart—to activate the seed of God’s love.”

The Porch--when Silence Rests Between Us

While journaling, I remember writing, “front porch—that place where silence can sit between friends.” What could be more life giving than feeling understood, knowing that that person sharing space with you can wait indefinitely in your presence without needing to fill the air with words. This is especially true during times of intense pressure, or severe hardship, a trial that has no end in sight, or a loss that has left the world without answers, and God a million miles away.

The presence of friendship without the trappings of words fuses two hearts together, and quite literally, though no science could prove it, let them walk together bonded, and sustained by the united sense of resolve they silently share. In the same way, when we sit in silence with God, we first of all are saying that we trust Him. Often it’s our words when we feel either anger, fear or anxiety that gushes senseless musings. It makes us feel better, thinking we are praying, but it’s hardly that. It’s a cathartic riot act pointed at God, demanding relief. Of course, there’s a place for this kind of banter. We need look no further than David, in a host of psalms that reassure us that we can vent, and feel safe doing it. But a better, more redemptive interchange happens when we can meditate upon the truths of God , and let our hearts rest from the emotions that swell our heads with possibilities, at least during the time we are in each others space. In the silence that hangs heavy between us, it can be maddening to imagine all sorts of falsities, exaggerated wondering and forgone conclusions. But if silence can be at home in the space you share with Him, then through a disciplined act of faith, we can clear even our minds of the clutter that dissipates faith, and enhances fear. When words are few, God sees a heart trusting in the unseen, and desiring Him above understanding, above the machinations that clamor for supremacy, and beyond the reach of any mortal touch to console. It was the woman caught in adultery that had exhausted her defenses, or rationale who could do nothing but lie in a heap before perfect love. It was Job who could do nothing else but wait in silence, with friends at hand. When our hearts become content to wait, then our entire posture changes from one of arbitrator to one of humble suppliant. Our options lie strewn in the wind, and we cling to the belief in a God who has judged and found us wanting, but whose heart gushes compassion.

The Porch is the place where friends sit quietly on rockers, and watch the coming dusk. It’s the place promises are given, and failures are forgotten. The Porch opens it’s sequestered arms to the scents of a dying day, and brings to our senses the robust energy pulsing from it’s pores like a silent sentry. If we could imagine this as we rest quietly before our heavenly father, we could capture one of the secrets of gaining strength and finishing well. Our often knee jerk reaction to circumstances which threaten our equalibrium exerts our will upon God through intercession, instead of asking for patience to wait. We learn to trust in the silence, as a child will lie exhausted in the arms of her father, after a sudden loss, or a perplexing hurtful experience. We don’t know why we feel buoyed, but it’s affect changes how we see God’s part in our daily affairs. Instead of wrestling with uncertainty, we find the grace of a living God, not an idol. Our silence demonstrates that God is alive in our affairs. Only silence presupposes a living fire, an infinite strength that holds out to our tired attempts at peace, a garland dipped in blood. To remain silent before god means that He is more than wood, stone or precious gems. We are building strength in our belief that when He decides, He will act, speak, and bring us forward, and out of the dilemna for which we cry inwardly for help. The events of the cross assure our heart that sitting with us is Someone who has tasted death, and in doing so, has showed us how to live. He offers a hand to hold, while nothing is said, so that you know beyond nuance, intuition or premonition that His presence has a tangible affect upon our stubborn independence. Where else can we be reminded how our hiding may end in loneliness, and eventual hell.

The porch creeks under the weight of our rocking. The settled dusk brings a finality to the all the activities of the day, whether fragmented or focused, all is behind us. Nothing else can be done, but quietly ruminate on the choices and decisions made in the cauldron of spiritual affairs, and very mundane routines. There are no words, because our heart understands that everything has passed the grade with Him, nothing fallen outside of His perfect purposes, and little left for morbid review. Silence tells Him, you are content to receive the good, and no so good; the brilliant moments, and the perplexing washouts. What rests between God and man is palpable, because when words are absent, faith fills the void. His faith in us has been constant, without tarnish, or degradation. Our faith in Him, though waffling through the days journey, has settled for the moment, upon a certainty that He is pleased, and poised to renew and rejuvenate our tired souls. “Come.” The invitation has been heeded without hearing it. It’s the universal and timeless urging of a God who hurts in the stomach for his children to return to Him, and receive all comfort and grace.

It must have been a porch where angels and incense came together, so that God could deliver His message to the earth (Rev 8). Heaven was completely silent for half an hour, but not idle. Here an angel received an abundance of incense to mix with the prayers of God’s holy people, and lifted it before the golden altar of God as an offering. When the incense holder emptied, God filled it with fire, which upon the blasts of trumpets, he sent to the earth with devastating affect. All this was done with no words spoken. Our fragrance as holy people breathes the prayer God uses to send fire upon the earth, the fire of revival. It’s no mistake that silence encased this scene, because when prayer and silence wed, faith rests between God and man. The depth of this union glorifies God beyond anything that man can manufacture. True worship is waiting in silence for Holy God to speak. The porch invites us all to sit with Him, wait and enjoy the coming dusk. Together we will find strength and hope to press forward under the coming night. While we wait, God enjoins angels to our hearts desire in order for His Kingdom to come.