gospelmind

God's Goodness, part 1

Last night I reached a breaking point in my heart. We do this occasionally—only so long can we carry a burden of pain and sorrow before it spills out everywhere, one direction or another. Mine spilled out into prayer, and it took the form of unusually direct prayer: I asked for what I wanted, without apology. Generally speaking, when I do not know a desire is God's will, I try to add as many conditionals as possible to my prayers. "If it's your will... I might be wrong, so if this is good... This is my perspective, but if it's not yours..."

But last night I simply asked for what seemed good to me. No conditionals. Not that I was demanding; but it seemed right to lay out what seemed good to me as clearly as possible.

Now, here was the striking thing: I realized that I was asking with fear, not with faith. My deepest emotion, if you pulled it up and stated it as a proposition, was: "I want this very deeply, therefore God will take it away (for my good)." In fact, this belief has been operating quietly in my heart for as long as I can remember. I think a good many of the conditionals in my prayers have come from this place of fear—ask for what you want, but don't let God know just how badly you want something, because then he will surely deny it. After all, it has become an IDOL—and what better for you than to take away your idols?

There is a sort of logic here. We need to love God most of all; check. Things we want deeply can often become idols; check. We have a hard time letting go of idols; check. God loves us and wants us to love him; check. ERGO, God will seize and destroy all the things we want most deeply so that we can love him alone. QED.

But there is a hidden premise in this argument, and a hidden belief in many of our hearts: God prefers to teach us to love him by withholding things from us.

Really? Is this Biblical? Or is it more of the same lie that we heard so long ago in the Garden: "Did God really say you can't eat of any tree in the Garden?"

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Jesus is My Lover, #1

I have gotten a lot of feedback from my sermon on Revelation 19. It seems like God gave words to share that a lot of people needed to hear and process. Me too. Understanding (and feeling!) the passionate heart of Jesus for us is so important and so difficult. 

So I'm going to keep processing it here with you all. I want to be intentional about giving this attention regularly, because it seems we all need it quite a bit. 

To start, I want to share a verse from Song of Solomon that I am turning into a breath prayer.

Breath Prayer

We generally think of prayer as a way to ask God for things that we desire or need. Or, perhaps, a way to express our hearts to Him. While these are both certainly important components of a prayerful life, I think we need a fuller definition of prayer.

Simone Weil wrote that prayer is essentially paying attention to God. I think this comes closer to the mark. To attend to something means that we look on it, gaze on it, with our full energy and concentration, in order to see it as it really is. A good student will attend to the problem set before her—she will consider it carefully until she sees it clearly, rather than rushing forward and bungling it.

Prayer, then, is at least in part an effort to see and know God for who He is, rather than reducing Him to the size of our preconceptions. Prayerful attention to God most certainly will overflow into praise, adoration, as well as asking for His help. But it will also involve listening, waiting, beholding Him.

Breath Prayer is one form of prayer that focuses especially on waiting for the presence of God, listening to His words. In this prayer, we choose a short sentence, and repeat it over and over again with the rhythm of our breath. For example:

"Abba / I belong to you."

"Daddy / let me feel your love."

"I am yours / save me."

"You are worthy / of my praise."

We select the sentence based on what we need at the moment, as best we can tell. Then we find a quiet place to sit in God's presence, or go for a walk, and focus on the words with every breath.

After 10-15 minutes, I find that the prayer becomes a quiet background and I am ready to move on to whatever I need to do with my day. But as often as I can, I return my focus to the words of the prayer. In fact I often find myself repeating them quietly without realizing I was doing so.

Breath prayer reminds me of God's continual presence, that He is closer than my breath and just as necessary. It also allows truth to shape my mind, rather than lies—I find it easier to resist condemnation or temptation when I have been meditating on truth all day.

I am my Beloved's

Here, then, is the breath prayer I am drawing from Song of Solomon:

"I am my beloved's, and his desire is for me." (7:10) 

The church has long read Song of Solomon as, at least in part, representative of Christ and His Bride's love for one another. Here the Beloved sings that she belongs to her Beloved, and relishes the fact that His desire is for her. 

This is as good a place to start as any. Today (and as often as I can in the near future) I am going to pray these words, again and again: "I am my beloved's, and his desire is for me.". Hard to feel? Yes. Hard to believe? Yes. But it is true. Nothing is more true. So I'm going to say it again and again, and underneath those words the prayer: Let me feel it. Let me know it. Let us all feel it, so deeply that everything in our lives finds its proper place. 

My prayers are with you all today, brothers and sisters, and in a special way with those who are hurting to feel God's love. 

You are your beloved's. And his passionate, matchless desire is for you.