In a previous post, Praying at the Drop of a Hat, I talked about writing this blog in part to reason the source of my thought chatter pinging restlessly and disturbing the peace I had found in prayer meditation for so many years.
I am grieving the loss of a love companion, but I am not lonely.
I am grieving the loss of a life I hoped for in retirement, but wake up each morning joyful at what that day may bring.
I am grieving that God was so close and present during my husband’s illness and dying, but now He seems so very far away.
THAT.
I cannot explain or emphasize enough the intensity of His Presence that my husband and I both felt during that time. Though he did not receive healing on this side of heaven, we were given signs that our prayers were powerful and miraculous.
Moses asked to see God’s glory and I can say with all humble confidence I was blessed with a speck of recognition for what that must have been like. Perhaps these many months He is quiet because He knows my heart still needs rest.
In the weeks before his death my husband often said, “I am in the Lord’s hands.” This is the confidence I also have, all Christians have, even as no one knows what their future will bring.
So though I struggle to connect my thoughts and find the words to reflect what is in my heart, I am deeply confident in what the Spirit asks for me.
And somehow, I am still moved to continue writing this blog.
image taken hiking above Canyon de Chelly, Arizona
When we moved to our house in Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin some twenty-plus years ago, I wanted to create a backyard and deck area that gave me joy and peace. I love all of nature but especially birch trees, flowers, rocks and birds.
Working in my yard was a blessing as it kept my mind busy through some stressful, anxiety-producing situations over many years. But the peace I had sitting on my deck and enjoying the color and scent of flowers and singing of the birds was continually threatened by the demands of maintaining my yard.
I remember keeping up with the relentless onslaught of weeds was overwhelming and recall a time my verbal reaction did not at all reflect God’s gifts of peace and patience. I remember the ranting I had done but then my heart spoke that maintaining a yard is much like stewarding a Christian life.
Sometimes the weeds are big and you have to dig deep to make sure you get the whole root out. It is hard work. Most weeds are annoyingly small things that have a niggly, frail little root that breaks easily and continues to grow just under the surface. And you get worn out with constantly dealing with the little weeds since they never seem to go away.
In this broken world there are some serious, sorrow-filled problems many Christians are challenged to endure. In our daily life, Satan prowls around us constantly with tricks and temptations and distractions that threaten to overwhelm us and destroy the gifts God wants for us.
When I moved to Arizona, I looked forward to having a rocky yard with cactus plants assuming I would no longer have the task of weeding. I was very wrong.
So the weeds will keep coming in my yard and my life. But I want God to be the gardener of my heart and pray that He grants me the full blessings of joy and peace in the beauty of the world He created and in the relationships He provides for support and encouragement.
May you pray without ceasing that God bless your heart with all joy and perseverance to root out the pain you are going through!
image taken on the trails in my neighborhood of Cottonwood Ranch, Cottonwood, AZ
I am reminded today of an early spring day years ago when I was in the line at Walmart and the shopper in front of me pointed at the cashier and said “wow, what a crab she is!” I looked over and the cashier’s face was lined in a deep scowl. As the shoppers went through the check out and she gave the typical greeting, they only mumbled in reply and kept their heads down.
Are you familiar with the label “resting bitch face?” It is used for people who look angry when they are not actively smiling. I have that kind of face. So there have been many times in my life when I have been perceived or accused of “looking” something that did not reflect how I was feeling.
As I thought of the shopper’s comment and my past experiences, I wondered what would happen if I responded to the cashier differently than the other shoppers had. And so after answering to the usual “did you find everything?” I then asked her “so how is your day going?”
The still vivid memory of her response always brings tears to my eyes. With a joyful voice she practically sang her answer. “I’m having a great day! The sun is shining! Every day is a beautiful day!” Even though she sounded happy, her face still had a scowl. There was a hint of a smile, but it seemed she couldn’t completely overcome those wrinkles or downward turn that shaped her mouth. But her eyes were bright and shining!
And I knew at that moment that if I had only glanced at her and saw the scowl, that if I hadn’t taken the time to really engage with her, I would have missed those beautiful eyes and not heard that singing voice telling me what a wonderful day it was.
I wonder how often someone with joy in their heart is criticized or ignored because of their facial features? So many of us profess, “don’t judge a book by it’s cover,” and yet do it.
ALL. THE. TIME.
In directing the anointing of a new king, Samuel was told, “Do not look at [his] appearance…for God sees not as man sees, for man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” (1 Sam 16:7) How blessed we are to have a God who knows our heart behind what others see and think they know us to be!
I generally hurry – walk fast, drive a bit faster than I should, juggle the phone while putting away dishes, arrive only minutes before appointments so I don’t waste time waiting – well, you get the idea. I could say God had blessed me with a talent for efficiency but I began to notice impatience creeping in.
That awareness was more obvious when road rage became a common public topic. Drivers wildly speeding, cutting in and out of traffic and making hand motions of frustration were becoming all too familiar on the road. Deep down inside I was acutely aware that while I had not yet acted on it, I could relate to the expressions of irritation on their faces. Could my “drive” for efficiency escalate to anger like theirs?
Dallas Willard is famously and frequently quoted “to ruthlessly eliminate hurry from your life” when asked how to cultivate a healthy spiritual life. He emphasized Jesus’ unhurried nature in relation to the question “what would Jesus do?” But for a “git ‘er done” kind of person that I am, to imply hurry as sinful behavior felt unfair to me.
Spending time in prayer about it, I was led to understand it isn’t so much the act of hurry that is the problem. What is dangerous to spiritual health is the underlying impatience and potential frustration that accompanies ramping up your heart rate and trying to speed up your day to squeeze seconds out of hours just to check off another thing from your must do list. And being preoccupied with tasks yields inattention to God’s guidance and provision through our day.
But I prayerfully discovered something else—an unexpected opportunity. When I think of Jesus’ acts of gentle and humble charity to others, could the way I drive be a quiet mission of peace?
I recalled a time I was nearly hit head on when a lady made too tight a turn in the grocery store parking lot. We were close enough for me to see her embarrassed and horrified expression. When I smiled and waved my hand as if to say “that’s ok, I’ve done that too!,” the relief on her face left a lasting reminder of simple gifts we can give to a stranger.
People in cars next to us are strangers on unknown journeys. They could be distracted with worry on their way to the bank or headed home after devastating news from their doctor. Maybe they had a stressful day and need a smile of encouragement. Or maybe they are an angry driver that needs a prayer of grace to soften their heart as they speed by.
I can’t live a mission of peace if I am in a hurry, I miss too much. But when I slow down I have time to notice prayer opportunities that God may put around me. And when I slow down enough to trust Him with the space of time that He gives in a day, I still get the needful thing done.
There is a funny scene in one of my favorite movies, “Steel Magnolias” with Dolly Parton, Julia Roberts and Darryl Hannah when Shelby watches Annelle suddenly drop to her knees in Truvy’s salon and asks “was she prayin’? Why?” Dolly’s character wryly responds, “Got me, maybe she was praying for Marshall and Drew and Bell. Maybe she was praying for us cause we was gossipin’. Maybe she was praying because the elastic is shot in her pantyhose. Who knows, she prays at the drop of a hat these days.”
I still laugh remembering that scene. And it resonates with those of us who think we shouldn’t pray about trivial things. But in 1 Thessalonians 5:17-18Paul reminds us to pray “without ceasing, giving thanks in all circumstances” and he makes no references to a priority list. Even more important is the part about giving thanks in ALL circumstances. There are no qualifiers regarding that either.
But what does it mean to pray without ceasing? Psychology experts tell us even when our mind is not purposely focused on an activity we are engaged in thought. An article in Psychology Today by Steve Taylor, Ph.D., states “involuntary ‘thought chatter’ seems to be an affliction of human beings.”
I began to wonder, can my involuntary thought chatter become constant prayer?
In Romans 12:2 Paul tells us “do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind” and by this we gain discernment of God’s will for us.
So that “thought chatter” or inner dialogue I am having through the day can either be worldly and self-involved or given up in an ongoing conversation–prayer–with God. There are so many verses in Scripture in which God encourages us to come to Him in prayer and none warning us to pray only about disease or addiction or tragedy.
Of course those are the times when we readily think of needing His grace or guidance and strength. But sometimes little things matter too. And I don’t know about you, but I can often get frustrated by little things. So I truly need to pray without ceasing if I am to live each moment, all through the day, in His grace and power.
And as I pray “at the drop of a hat” over little moments of discouragement or frustration as well as the big stuff, as my “thought chatter” becomes a continual prayer for wisdom and endurance and thanksgiving, then my spirit is renewed according to His will and all things are transformed into blessings.
Amen. And yet?
For so many months now my thought chatter pings restlessly and I struggle to pray beyond Kyrie, eleison.
Granite Mountain Hot Shots Memorial Trail, Yarnell, AZ
After reading the CT scan report that identified too many to count cancerous brain lesions, my husband came to me with tears in his eyes and asked “why would God deliver me from the kidney tumor just to give me this?”
His using the phrase “deliver me” brought to my mind the story of the Israelites being led to safety only to end up forty years wandering in the wilderness. With this new diagnosis, he certainly was smack in the middle of a wilderness of fear and unknown.
For the Israelites, God used that time in the wilderness to teach them to trust in His provision, goodness and faithfulness. In the journey of life God promises to be with us so we can trust in Him and remain hopeful. Together my husband and I learned to take the journey of contending with disease and impending death just one day at a time.
For forty days Jesus purposely went to the wilderness to prepare for his ministry. In a desolate place, He sought to go deeper and closer with His Father.
Going through trials and troubles feels like wandering in a wilderness. But I know that looking to Jesus as our example, these trials and troubles are also rich opportunities to call upon God’s promises of deliverance and experience His presence in a very profound way.
Yet in these years since, I feel stuck in the wilderness. I am wandering without a clear sense of guidance. The desolation of this place mirrors my emotions. I begin to pray but after only moments my heart goes silent.
Some years ago over the period of many long months I was chronically anxious.
One morning I was running late for work and as I rushed to my car discovered much to my frustration my car keys were not where I always put them. I had never once mislaid them before so not being able to find them was especially troubling and I knew it was a sign of stressed scatter-brained thinking.
After frantically searching for the better part of an hour, I stopped to take a deep breath and shed a few tears. Need poured over me like a waterfall and I sank to my knees.
I sort of prayed. I asked for help finding my keys but mostly I simply declared defeat trying to deal with the circumstances in my life in my usual way.
Opening my eyes in preparation to call in to work with some lame excuse, I saw my keys. They must have dropped out of my coat pocket somehow wedging themselves between the chair slats and under the cushion.
I would never have seen those keys if I had not gotten down on my knees.
In A Praying Life, author Paul E Miller talks about cynicism Christians may feel about whether God hears our prayers. He notes too often we end our conversations with “I’ll keep you in my prayers” or “I’ll remember you in prayer” but never get around to praying, that too often we don’t think prayer makes much difference.
He continues that prayer is confusing and asks questions most of us wonder. Can you pray for what you want? And what’s the point of praying if God already knows what you need? It sounds like nagging.
Being on your knees is in a very real and spiritual sense a posture of humility and surrender. That prayer of admitting my need also quieted my anxious heart. I learned a new posture of prayer and in that moment He found me with an vulnerable and repentant heart and lifted me up.
This was certainly a very dramatic occasion but not the only time in those past years that I experienced prayer most certainly does make a difference. But what happens when the spiritual realm is silent while you struggle to pray?
For more than a year after my husband died, my prayers were a blend of gratitude and grief. While he was a believer all his life, during his sickness my husband experienced the comfort and peace from having a personal relationship with His Heavenly Father that he hadn’t had before. For the first time in our marriage we spent time in devotion and he asked often for me to pray with and over him.
Those memories that brought me deep gratitude and joy in prayer have begun to wane. Instead mundane daily routine invades my thought space and I have been finding it harder and harder to open my devotions. The tears of grief have waned as well but even so, I am also finding it harder to play praise music.
All those faith affirming and soul strengthening lessons from years past no longer seem to inspire or heal as before. I am still on my knees but there is this void that leaves me not knowing what to pray.
