HOW NOW SHALL WE PRAY?

I have to be honest: I've never prayed as hard and as fervently as I did during this past week and a half.  I pleaded and begged for God to show favor to my son, Joshua.  I begged him to respond quickly (as did the Psalmist in chapter 69).  No need has ever caused me such deep sorrow as has the need for my son's eye to be made whole again.  I have petitioned God with some serious needs, and God has ultimately answered.  But this one had the deep painfulness of a broken heart for my son.

The reason for this post is because Joshua received a "get well" card from a well-intentioned lady from church today.  She wrote, "Joshua, I will pray that God heals your eye.  But I will pray for His will to be done."  I get what she means.  I understand her acknowledgement that God is sovereign and in complete control of our circumstances.  I get it.  But what kind of prayer is that???  I wasn't angry, but I was a little miffed.  Obviously the need is much greater and more real to us than it is to her.  I wouldn't expect otherwise.  I'm not pointing fingers at her only, because I've been guilty of this very kind of prayer: "Dear God, if it's your will, will you please heal Mrs. Smith of her cancer?  Amen."  And then I'd go about my daily affairs. 

Of course He will heal (or do whatever it is He desires) if it's His will.  But if we're going to offer up weak prayers to God, then why pray at all?  Why should we expect our needs to mean anything to God when they don't even cause us to break a sweat?  Why should we expect our prayers to have any influence with God when we offer them so lightly, nonchalantly, cavalierly, sheepishly?

David Redding in 1960 wrote a book entitled "The Parables He Told".  I like what he had to say in his commentary on the parables of the persistent neighbor and the persistent widow, each found in Luke 11:5-13 and Luke 18:1-8 respectively.  "Those who take prayer so lightly they can't remember what it was they meant to pray for and never pray for the same thing two weeks in a row, who assume one mention is enough, at least to be mad about if He doesn't answer within the hour, make prayer a pity. ... Prayer demands determination and patience." (p.39)

See, we have two extremes set before us: (1) The will of God (something we don't know until the moment it is revealed) and (2) our intense desires that we present before Almighty God.  In other words, how do we pray for something we want and yet desire God's will?  Or how do we pray God's will when there's something we so desperately need?

First, we have the example of Jesus praying in the garden of Gathsemane that many use to support their "if-it-be-Your-will" prayers.  After He pleaded with the Father to spare him from His cup of wrath, Jesus closed his prayer, "...yet not as I will, but as You will."

What we often overlook in this prayer, however, is the intensity of Jesus' prayer.  He prayed passionately and fervently -- as if the weight of all humanity rested on his shoulders alone -- and he pleaded to the Father for rescue.  He prayed so intensely that the capillaries under his skin burst and mixed his blood with his sweat.  It was only AFTER his intense prayer request for rescue that Jesus reassured the Father that he was submitted to the His will.  Can I ask when the last time was that you prayed so zealously that you broke a sweat? 

The other example we have is the persistence of the neighbor and the widow mentioned in the parables of Jesus named above.  The subjects in these parables had such great needs that they presented their "petitions and requests" so persistently to their hearers that they reached a near point of annoyance.  Their needs meant something to them, and they expected their hearers to relent.  They expected response.

I wonder if our sheepish prayers "annoy" God.  I wonder if they cause Him to take notice.  Do we say, "Your will be done" because we truly desire God's will, or is it because we honestly don't even expect Him to answer?  Do we subconsciously (or even consciously) believe God is going to remain silent just like He did last time we asked Him for something important?  Did He not answer last time because that prayer, too, was painfully boring?  Is our sheepishness a display of our lack of faith?  Is it a cheap way of giving God an "out", as if to say, "God, You can just claim 'It's My will' if you don't want to answer this one...I'll understand."

So why should those prayers move the heart and hand of God if they don't hold any passion in our own heart?  Redding continues, "To attract the notice of the Almighty, prayer must have something of the insistence, the perseverence, the intensity, of the undiscouraged host who kept banging away at his neighbor's door at night, or the undaunted widow who kept pestering the tough old judge with her problem and wouldn't give up until he gave in." (p.40)

Please don't mistake my words: God is sovereign; He is in complete control; He knows our hearts and desires.
But please don't miss this: Our prayers ought to mean something.

PRAYER WITH SURVIVORS OF TRAGEDY:

I started reading this book, Gray Matter, by Dr. David Levy over the weekend that I received for review from Tyndale House Publishers.  (This posting is not a book review.)  The jist of the book is this: Dr. Levy is an accopmlished and well-respected neurosurgeon in San Diego, and a couple years after becoming a Christisn he underwent a life transformation that led him to start praying with patients before and after surgical proceedings.



I agreed to review "Gray Matter" because my personal quest and theme in 2011 is to spend more time in prayer than I did in 2010...which, I regret to admit, isn't actually all that hard to accomplish.  I have been riveted by Dr. Levy's devotion to his career and to his God.  He admits that his requests to pray with patients gives many of them an uneasy feeling, as though he's overly concerned about the inherent dangers of their particular situation or that he doesn't have what it takes to make for a successful operation.  Nevertheless, he puts those feelings aside and gently asks them if he could pray with them (not just for them). 

The other day at work, I was sent to give another death notification to a man, whom I'll call Jeff, whose brother committed suicide in another state.  I was requested to locate the next of kin and deliver the horrible news.  It was difficult enough just trying to locate him, let alone jumping through all the hoops his employer had in place to protect him once I did find him.  Prior to meeting up with Jeff, however, I prayed that the Spirit would still my anxious heart, quiet my frustrated thoughts, and help me deliver a peaceful message amidst tragic circumstances.

I met Jeff and delivered the news to him, and quite honestly, he received it well, remarking, "I'm actually not surprised to hear this.  He's been having some big problems lately.  My sister's really going to take it hard, though."

As our conversation was drawing to a close, I felt a nudge in my spirit (some might call it a still, small voice), "Ask him if you could pray with him."  Our conversation continued and he was moving around in his chair as if to stand up and leave the room.  As he was doing that, I sensed that nudge again, "Ask him if you could pray with him."
"Jeff, would you mind if I pray with you before we leave today?"  He looked at me in what seemed like a different light and replied, "I would like that, trooper.  I'm a believer myself."  My prayer was simple.  It was short, lasting all of 15 seconds.  I didn't need to preach a sermon or make Jeff uncomfortable...after all, how many people have had the cops pray with them?  Basically, I prayed that God would be sure to make Jeff and his sister know that He was near at this time of tragedy.

After concluding, Jeff appeared comforted and at peace.  It didn't change the hurting in his heart, but I think it helped him remember that God really cares and that He is always near.  He thanked me for the way I delivered the message and how I handled the situation.  It's actually hard receiving "thanks" when bearing bad news, but it felt good to be of service to Jeff physically and spiritually at such a tragic time.

A BALLOON TIED TO A STRING:

About three hours before the conclusion of my work shift, my dispatcher sent me to a crash -- a roll-over crash. The first thing I thought to pray was, "God, please don't let it be a drunk." (I hate drunks. I love arresting them, but they're crybabies and whiners and I get fed up with them quickly!) When I arrived on the scene of the crash, I met the young driver, about 23 years old, who was standing next to his overturned car. Internally, I had already judged him: "How does someone roll his car on a straight-away unless he's an idiot?" Externally, I asked him, "What happened?"

Boy, was I ever in for a piece of humble pie surprise!

The young man calmly, quietly, and politely responded, "I was distracted by this balloon in my car, and I lost control." That's it. No lying. No swearing. Nothing. Just an honest-to-goodness decent guy. He showed me the single foil balloon tied to a string. He shyly said, "I was going to my friend's house with this balloon and those flowers", as he pointed at a small bouquet of crushed flowers strewn in the freeway grass next to his wrecked car.

I asked, "Oh yeah, to give to your girlfriend?"

"Sort of. I'm going to see if my long-time friend will be my girlfriend."

Gulp. Now I felt bad for the poor guy. He said he was deliberating in the first place whether or not to give the girl the balloon, thinking it would be "too much." Of course, he didn't want to overdo it, he simply wanted to impress. He said, "The irony of it is that the florist convinced me to get the balloon, and the balloon is what distracted my driving."

Let me pause here to describe the kid. He was clean cut with a goofy tee shirt, slightly-sagging blue jeans (because he's a tad bit overweight) with the cuffs scraping on the ground, and raggety black "Chucks" on his feet. Based on the some of the books strewn about, I could tell he was really into computers and UFO's. So, we're talking about the kind of kid who probably wasn't too popular, and probably doesn't get out much.

Back to the story. On the way to his parents' house, I asked what made him so sure he wanted to attempt taking his and his friend's relationship to the next level of being exclusive. He said, "We get each other's jokes, we like the same things, she's attractive. (Pause) And when I'm with her, I want only to make her happy. And if I go out with another girl, I compare my date to her."

We arrived at his house, so I helped him gather his belongings from my patrol car. He said he could handle it all, so I handed what I grabbed to him and he said, "Thank you." His hands were filled with pens, highlighters, broken eyeglasses, money, a bouquet of crushed flowers, and a balloon tied to a string. I watched silently as he quietly shuffled away toward the door, wondering what could possibly be traversing his mind amidst his whirlwind of emotions. The door opened and closed; he entered the house. No wave good-bye, just a quiet escape. But I wasn't offended. I sat in his driveway for a moment and prayed that God would in some way bless him. Then I drove away.

And that's when it hit me...like a two ton hammer. "You selfish jerk!"

-- Why was my first prayer, "Please don't let it be a drunk" when it should have been, "God, please let this person be ok." After all, he's somebody's son, somebody's brother...somebody's long-time friend and companion. I would be "crushed" if it was my wife or sons in his position, so maybe it would be nice if was "crushed" for those who love him.

-- I wish police work didn't make me so calloused toward people. Sometimes, I feel like a fine-tuned, heartless robot...only concerned about my feelings, and whether or not I'll be inconvenienced. I too often see people as something less than people -- people without feelings, hurts, desires, joys, or fears. Maybe I see people like I see myself.



God, thank You for the balloon tied to the string today. You taught me a lot about puting others' needs ahead of my own; about the person I really am inside; and about what it means to love and reach out to hurting people. Thank You, and Sorry.