What if I don't pray...

Jesus said to those He loved and knew the best : "Pray that you will not give in to temptation" (Luke 22:40) and minutes later again he urged "Get up and pray, so that you will not give in to temptation" (46). He knew much more assuredly than they, their nature, their tendency, their need.

But sadly, ...

Judas didn't pray; he was busy selling his soul and his master for a few silver coins.

The religious leaders weren't praying; they were far too occupied with conniving, scheming and planning how to get rid of the competition.

The disciples were too tired to pray.  And because of that, they ended up cutting off ears, running scared, jumping ship, abandoning and forsaking the one who loved them best in his greatest hour of need.

Peter didn't see his need to pray and minutes after vowing undying allegiance, swore up and down that he was no friend of the man.

The guards didn't pray.  They preferred to mock, beat and spit.

Pilate wasn't praying but was wondering how best to keep his job.

Herod never prayed.  He hoped for a miracle and got nothing but silence in response.

The crowds certainly weren't praying that day.  Their mob cries of "Hosanna" had turned to murderous cries of "crucify Him".

It seems as though Jesus Himself was the only one praying that night.  He knew His enemy and knew about temptation and understood His need to pray. So He prayed.  Agonizing prayer.  Blood-soaked prayer.  He prayed until He could let go and accept the way of the cross. And in prayer he found the strength it would seem to stand up to his temptation.

So why would I think that I could ever make it through this world's trials without bowing head and knee in deference to the One who prayed that night and got it right? 

"Let our children see your glory"

I am thinking generationally these days.  Perhaps because my parents are in their 80's and each visit with them is couched with wondering how many more of those times will I be privileged to have.  Or because I'm seeing my own kids maturing, growing older, making lives for themselves and I realize that time is indeed marching on.  Perhaps too it comes from spending time and interacting with my own two little grandsons.  I am realizing in a way I never have before the reality of heritage, legacy and life beyond myself.  Whatever the reasons, recently a number of texts seemed to have a common theme and one that resonated with me.

Judges 2:6 says "And the Israelites served the Lord throughout the lifetime of Joshua and the leaders who outlived him - those who had seen all the great things the Lord had done for Israel."  These were people who had personally experienced God, His miracles, His goodness, grace and love.  They had seen enough to keep them on track throughout their lives.  Faithful to the end.  Seeing was believing in their case.

But then the text continues in verses 10,11 with this sad assessment :  "After that generation died, another generation grew up who did not acknowledge the Lord or remember the mighty things he had done for Israel.  The Israelites did evil in the Lord's sight and served the images of Baal" .  Francis Schaeffer said "God does not have grandchildren" and it has always been a reminder to me that each generation has to reach its own.  We don't automatically believe just because our parents believed or experienced amazing things with God.

In the Congo, churches and leaders developed by early missionaries were not always very culturally adapted resulting often in a certain discontent with the "foreign" faith. In an effort to make it more African in essence, "Revival churches" started up and grew like wildfire. They rejected outside resources and influences. But what is happening today in the leadership of many of these congregations?  The next generation, the children of those African leaders, are once again turning their eyes toward the outside. They personally did not live the events of the past and now are attracted to the possibility of financial benefits coming from outside sources. Somehow, these children have not seen the glory of a truly indigenous African church and are being seduced by what they consider a better way.

So I guess my thought, my prayer is this :  that I would so live my life that the generations who follow me would have in every way been pointed to the glory of Jesus and  that He would permit our children and grandchildren to see, to experience for themselves the wonder of Him.

"Let us, your servants, see you work again; let our children see your glory." Psalm 90:16

From east, west, north and south

What is it that keeps me going on days like today?  What could possibly push me on in the face of almost constant inconveniences, chaos, brokenness?  It can really be boiled down to the motivation, the final beautiful outcome described in Luke 13:29 :

"And people will come from all over the world - from east and west, north and south - to take their places in the Kingdom of God."

Quite simply, it is this glorious picture of a global family of God.  The truth that I am not complete without you, without them, without us.  God's purpose is to call together the tribes, the nations, the tongues, the peoples and make us one, united around our Jesus' throne as eternal worshippers together.

Threatened to be forgotten or forsaken in the reality of another day of inconveniences, chaos and brokenness, I needed to revisit this again today.  I needed to see, observe and bask in the Artist's large canvas brushstrokes of His grand purpose and plan.  And as response, what else could I do but simply bow down to the King, accepting His will as mine?

The "heart" of the matter

I was thinking about an upcoming event in our family's life – the third major surgery to repair our grandson Liam's heart. He is 2 ½ years old. As his grandma, the idea of doctors cutting open his chest and his heart again, is almost too much to bear. Though I know with my head, that it's necessary and those who will be working on him are experts in the field, still my heart has greater difficulty contemplating what lies ahead. There is risk involved. And that risk involves a sweet little one that I have grown to love

This morning I read this verse and my heart was comforted and strengthened. “Indeed, he [the Lord] loves his people, and all his holy ones are in his hands.” (Deut 33:3a) God loves us. We are in His hands. What hope, joy and rest those 2 truths give me. To know that the God who took care in forming us, in forming him, is a God who loves us infinitely, completely. He is, in fact,  the very definition of love. Cherish. Honour. Protect. Give. Bless. He loves our Liam and Liam is in His hands. I have this mental image of God holding Liam's broken heart in His hands while He squeezes it to pump the life-giving blood through it. He is in His hands. I too am in His hands. And He loves us. Honestly, that is enough.  That is the heart of the matter.

Jesus, Friend of the Poor

I have been thinking a lot about it lately.  Poverty.  I guess it's normal that it's on mind given my present circumstances and environment.  The poor are everywhere.  And I don't mean poor because they can't afford to go on another vacation this year.  I mean poor because they don't know if they will eat today.  Or tomorrow.  Some of my friends here are poor like that. I've realized that "poverty" is something that in the Canadian context you really don't have to think much about.  You can so order your life to never be in its direct line of sight or need to make eye contact.  There, we can even think we're all somewhat poor because we can't do everything our hearts would desire. But not so here. Poor looks different in this place.  Poor has eyes that gaze right back at you and even seem to see right through you, straight to your heart.

God has a lot to say about poverty.  For one thing, it is not a recent phenomenon.  Nor is it one that will soon be completely eradicated. Billions poured into Africa has not effectively alleviated the plight of the poorest of the poor.   Jesus said it would always constitute part of our world situation.  Some days I wonder why.

God demands that we consider what our attitude is toward the poor.   Sure, when we look at them, their poverty describes something about them.  But it also says something about us and forces our own heart to be exposed.  How do I feel about them, about their situation, about mine?  What do I really think when a poor person stands, sits or begs in front of me?

I can tell you that sometimes, it has shown me how very poor my heart is at loving those in need.  How impoverished my compassion.  God has said repeatedly that the widows, the orphans, the poor, the vulnerable are part of our world and as such,  our responsibility.  Conditions were included in God's law to ensure their care and to guard their dignity.  Seeing them, as God does, means not simply addressing them as problem to be resolved or brushed aside, but as opportunity and motivation toward a continuous generosity of spirit.  Giving.  Sharing.  Empowering.  You know, like God expresses toward us all.

Jesus spoke of a poverty that is to characterize all of us who dare to say we follow in His steps.  "Happy you are, blessed by God, when in your poverty (of spirit) you realize your need for him."  (Matt 5:3 my paraphrase).  A person who is poor in this way always recognizes his need of help.  He doesn't need to be reminded of his poverty.  It's an indelible  fact.  Jesus is inviting us into the kind of relationship with Him that always reflects our utter and entire need of Him.  In everything.  Always.  No exceptions.  Just as, often, the poor are dependent on our generosity to make it, so we, poor in spirit, are ever dependent on our benevolent Blesser.  With Him there is never donor fatigue.  He doesn't send us away empty handed, condemned because we expressed our need,  but, each time, gives our empty hearts what it is that we really need.  Jesus, who was rich, became poor for us so that we who are poor, could be made rich in Him.  Surely His incredible example is motviation enough to love, give and share with those who are poor, whether materially or in spirit..

Curse or Blessing?

Everything in God's kingdom is topsy-turvy.  He says  that the first will be last. To be great, you must be the least. You must die to live. Jesus the master acting as servant.  Sinless, perfect  God dying instead of sinful, imperfect people.  The absolute antithesis of common sense. Yet it makes sense to God. And when you follow His way of thinking and doing for a while, it begins to make sense to you too. Perhaps not immediately but you start to get the hang of it as you go along.

In Deuteronomy 23:5, we have this affirmation : “But the Lord your God refused to listen to Balaam.  He turned the intended curse into a blessing because the Lord your God loves you”. It refers back to the story of Balaam who was sent out to curse the Israelites but ended up blessing them instead. Joseph said a similar thing to his brothers in Genesis 50:20  “You intended to harm me, but God intended it all for good”. Or take the story of Job who had everything taken from him, though his life (such as it was) was spared  and through the process was blessed to see, know and understand His Redeemer in vibrant colour.  It seems to us so nonsensical, sometimes diabolical but in actual fact, it is often God's way. Have you not experienced this in your life in tough times?  Perhaps initially you cried out saying “Why me?” or “It isn't fair!” But somewhere down the road in the trial, you began to view things from a different angle using a different lens.  Perhaps what came in wearing the clothes of hardship was in reality a display of God's great love.  The assumed curse turned out to be an unmerited blessing in disguise.  It's happened to me - the topsy-turviness of God working out His kingdom in me.  A baby almost dying.  The loss of parents-in-law.  Depression of loved ones.  A broken neck.  A grandbaby with life threatening issues.  Each could appear to be such a mistake.  Unnecessary.  Curses.  But God has walked me through these and other situations and in the process I don't see curse.  I see blessing.  I see Him.  The Lord my God who loves me.

Follow Him

Look there at Jesus.
Who do you see?
Messiah,
Friend,
Leader,
Life-changer,
Champion,
God-revealer.
Follow him.

I read these words some time last week.  I do adhere to them.  But somehow when I woke up this morning, it wasn't really what I was feeling or thinking.  You know what I'm talking about. From the second your eyes open, some days just seem harder than others.  Not from lack of sleep or sickness.  Just tougher to take.  This morning was one of those days.  I know that Jesus is all these things and more.  I do want to follow Him.  So why is there still a "but" in my spirit some days? 

So this morning I decided to start my day by doing some laundry - a rather necessary, unglamorous  but therapeutic task for me. I know.  It's crazy!  Lug water into my kitchen.  Pour water into my big basin.  Add soap.  Scrub clothes.  Wring out.  Set aside dirty water for toilet.  Refill basin with clear water to rinse.  Wring.  Carry clothes outside and hang to dry.  A banal activity but one that somehow helped to break the funk that threatened to hold me captive and through this simple task, got me in a frame of mind to actually be ready to listen.  To read.  To follow.  Him. 

Jesus put it this way "If any of you wants to be my follower, you must turn from your selfish ways, take up your cross daily and follow me."  (Luke 9:23)  Not a once-for-all proposition but a day-by-day exercise. I guess that's why it's so tough some days.  Selfishness is so ingrained and deep rooted it feels normal, justified.  It tries to tells us that since we don't feel like it, we don't have to.  We won't.   But Jesus says to turn away from it.  Renounce it.  Get rid of it.  Fight it.  And keep doing that.  Day after day.  No matter how you're feeling when you wake up in the morning.  Taking up your cross will never be a popular activity.  It won't get positive press.  But it's what it takes to follow Him. It's what it takes every day. If I simply had to follow my own desires and ideas, no cross would be necessary.  But following Him is another story.  He knows all about bearing crosses.  He is the cross-bearer par excellence.

 I realized too that the day doesn't have to end the way it started out.  We can at any point, stop living in Christ-denial and start living the self-denial way.  Sometimes just a little menial task can break our trajectory and open our spirit once again to our main task of following Him.  No way of getting around the cross.  It's all about following Him.  To His cross.  Bearing my cross.  Every day.