Thurs, Feb 18, morning
Place:
Prayer closet. I've been praying about many things. I want to hear the Lord's voice but sense this is a time that His Spirit may only speak with understanding of the heart and not with words. My prayers turn to some difficult blog posts I've been working on about suffering, and about the Q&A I've been struggling with on how Christians should treat homosexuals. The Lord is indeed providing understanding, but I do not hear his voice even after much prayer.
My prayer:
I want to get this right. I want to provide an answer that honors You.
Abba whisper:
You didn't ask.
[I realize I have not actually asked for the needed words, but have simply been relying on Him to provide them.]
Me:
I'm asking now. Please show me what to say.
[The understanding in my heart is that I need to apologize on behalf of other Christians. I formulate the needed answer. I feel so sad for all the hurt I start to cry.]
Me:
Lord, I'm so small for this task. So many misunderstandings. So many hurtful words. I know You must be so disappointed in us. I ask You to please go before me. Please go to every single individual who will read these words. Please give each and every one of them the right spirit to receive them. Please bring to this site by whatever means possible the exact people who need to see these words, both Christians and homosexuals. Dear God, please forgive us for how we grieve You with our selfishness. Please bring healing. Please draw people to Yourself. Please, Lord, be glorified in this. This post has been so difficult to compose. I beg You to use it to work unity, forgiveness, and love. Please, Father, teach us to love one another.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Never Enough
Sat, Feb 13, morning
Place:
Prayer Closet. My thoughts turn to the blog post I did for today on why a good God allows suffering.
My prayer:
How did I do? Did You show?
[There is silence. I pray some more, but my heart comes back to the same question.]
Me:
Did I do justice to You? Did Your goodness come through in my words?
Abba Whisper:
For some there is never enough.
[I feel God's sadness. My heart is moved to tell Him how good He is.]
Me:
You are good.
[I hear in my head the song "We Worship You" as I'm praying]
You let us live when we prove how evil we are, so we might accept Your redemption.
[I begin writing, so I can record everything.]
Everything You did at Calvary—so much—proved Your love and goodness.
(Holy Spirit, help me!)
You come to live within us. [with amazement]
You put Your breath in us. [my heart thinks of what it must have been like when the Lord created Adam and breathed life into him]
You give us people to love us when we're so impossible.
You make our wildest dreams come true when we honor You.
You pour out pleasure for us in all creation.
[My prayer time is interrupted for the second time to help kids get going who need to leave in a few minutes. I need to go but can't tear myself away yet.]
You provide our every need.
You supply so many wants.
You heal.
You restore.
Your love never fails or leaves us.
["We Worship You" has not stopped playing in my head. I pause praying to sing part of it in my heart.]
Lord You are good and Your mercy endureth forever.
Lord You are good and Your mercy endureth forever.
People from every nation and tongue
From every generation to come
We worship You
Hallelu Yah!
Hallelu Yah!
We worship You for Who You are
And You are good!
All the time
[I continue my own praying while the song keeps playing in the background of my mind]
You ask so little of us when You've done so much.
You forgive our continual failings.
You include us in Your glory.
You want us.
Oh Lord, despite all my failings, I love You.
[I feel my love for the Lord well up inside me.]
Father, it's so hard to be away from You.
Abba Whisper:
It needs to.
Me:
Why? Why can't our souls be satisfied?
Abba:
That's how love is.
Scripture comes to mind:
Love is as strong as death,
Jealousy as severe as Sheol;
Its flames are flames of fire,
The very flame of Yah.
(Song of Solomon 8:6, author)
Me:
I hear You less when I'm not suffering.
Abba:
You listen less.
Me:
I have to go. Help me. Help me listen more.
[I think of my day. I need to get my kids to church for a woodworking day on their AWANA Grand Prix cars. Then grocery shopping. Then food prep for a birthday celebration. Then get my daughter to a violin audition. Then birthday celebration. Then a funeral for a police officer my husband works with, who was going through a bitter divorce and committed suicide.]
Me:
Use me today? Please?
[On my way to the grocery store the next song that comes up on my CD player is one I play over and over, singing as a prayer:]
Abba, Father
My loving Father
I've come to worship You
To say 'I love You'
To lift my hands up to You
I've come to worship You
I am Your child
Born of Your Spirit
Called by Your name
Chosen by Your hand
I belong to You
Abba, Father
Our loving Father
We've come to worship You
To say 'We love You'
To lift our hands up to You
We've come to worship You
We are Your children
Born of Your Spirit
Called by Your name
Chosen by Your hand
We belong to You *
* Lyrics of "Abba Father" © 1998 Vineyard Music Group
Place:
Prayer Closet. My thoughts turn to the blog post I did for today on why a good God allows suffering.
My prayer:
How did I do? Did You show?
[There is silence. I pray some more, but my heart comes back to the same question.]
Me:
Did I do justice to You? Did Your goodness come through in my words?
Abba Whisper:
For some there is never enough.
[I feel God's sadness. My heart is moved to tell Him how good He is.]
Me:
You are good.
[I hear in my head the song "We Worship You" as I'm praying]
You let us live when we prove how evil we are, so we might accept Your redemption.
[I begin writing, so I can record everything.]
Everything You did at Calvary—so much—proved Your love and goodness.
(Holy Spirit, help me!)
You come to live within us. [with amazement]
You put Your breath in us. [my heart thinks of what it must have been like when the Lord created Adam and breathed life into him]
You give us people to love us when we're so impossible.
You make our wildest dreams come true when we honor You.
You pour out pleasure for us in all creation.
[My prayer time is interrupted for the second time to help kids get going who need to leave in a few minutes. I need to go but can't tear myself away yet.]
You provide our every need.
You supply so many wants.
You heal.
You restore.
Your love never fails or leaves us.
["We Worship You" has not stopped playing in my head. I pause praying to sing part of it in my heart.]
Lord You are good and Your mercy endureth forever.
Lord You are good and Your mercy endureth forever.
People from every nation and tongue
From every generation to come
We worship You
Hallelu Yah!
Hallelu Yah!
We worship You for Who You are
And You are good!
All the time
[I continue my own praying while the song keeps playing in the background of my mind]
You ask so little of us when You've done so much.
You forgive our continual failings.
You include us in Your glory.
You want us.
Oh Lord, despite all my failings, I love You.
[I feel my love for the Lord well up inside me.]
Father, it's so hard to be away from You.
Abba Whisper:
It needs to.
Me:
Why? Why can't our souls be satisfied?
Abba:
That's how love is.
Scripture comes to mind:
Love is as strong as death,
Jealousy as severe as Sheol;
Its flames are flames of fire,
The very flame of Yah.
(Song of Solomon 8:6, author)
Me:
I hear You less when I'm not suffering.
Abba:
You listen less.
Me:
I have to go. Help me. Help me listen more.
[I think of my day. I need to get my kids to church for a woodworking day on their AWANA Grand Prix cars. Then grocery shopping. Then food prep for a birthday celebration. Then get my daughter to a violin audition. Then birthday celebration. Then a funeral for a police officer my husband works with, who was going through a bitter divorce and committed suicide.]
Me:
Use me today? Please?
[On my way to the grocery store the next song that comes up on my CD player is one I play over and over, singing as a prayer:]
Abba, Father
My loving Father
I've come to worship You
To say 'I love You'
To lift my hands up to You
I've come to worship You
I am Your child
Born of Your Spirit
Called by Your name
Chosen by Your hand
I belong to You
Abba, Father
Our loving Father
We've come to worship You
To say 'We love You'
To lift our hands up to You
We've come to worship You
We are Your children
Born of Your Spirit
Called by Your name
Chosen by Your hand
We belong to You *
* Lyrics of "Abba Father" © 1998 Vineyard Music Group
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Prayer Closet
Wed, Feb 10, morning
Place:
Prayer closet. I'm thinking about the questions I've had from people about my prayer closet, especially since I've started this blog, and am bringing before the Lord what to say about it. I am thinking about what this prayer closet is to me.
Scripture:
But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret ...
(Matthew 6:6 KJV)
My prayer:
Father, how do I describe it?
Abba whisper:
You know.
[I consider that despite being enclosed by no more than a curtain, this is a private place to meet God on the most intimate level. It is a private chamber for Him and me.]
Me:
What is this place to You?
Abba [I sense sadness in Him]:
Have you forgotten the pleasure?
[I know He means the pleasure of intimacy. I feel sad too, to think of days I've hesitated to be here, or been distracted. I don't specifically pray, but I feel Him knowing my thoughts.]
Abba:
You know how to lock a bedroom door, how to shut out distractions there.
[I understand His reference to marital intimacy, and the comparison to me being hesitant or distracted here.]
Me:
You're right. I'm sorry.
[I spend some time reminiscing on the many hours of joy I've had here, on all the times I could hardly wait to get here, could hardly tear myself away.]
Me:
Please help me rediscover the joy of meeting You here without fear of pain, without hesitation, without distraction. [Pause. I'm thinking again about how to describe this to readers.] Please help me know how to describe that being here is a pleasure not a duty, the way sex should be.
Abba:
You just did.
Me:
I can't say that! I can't compare this to sex so openly!
Abba:
It's what they'll understand.
[My mind is spinning. I'm grasping for words to veil the intimacy in a more reserved manner.]
Abba:
Isn't that how you meet Me here? Make the comparison.
Me:
When I come here, I am exposed to You at the same time I am at ease with You. I freely offer myself to You.
[silence]
Me:
You want me to say that?!
Abba:
Just speak the truth.
Place:
Prayer closet. I'm thinking about the questions I've had from people about my prayer closet, especially since I've started this blog, and am bringing before the Lord what to say about it. I am thinking about what this prayer closet is to me.
Scripture:
But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret ...
(Matthew 6:6 KJV)
My prayer:
Father, how do I describe it?
Abba whisper:
You know.
[I consider that despite being enclosed by no more than a curtain, this is a private place to meet God on the most intimate level. It is a private chamber for Him and me.]
Me:
What is this place to You?
Abba [I sense sadness in Him]:
Have you forgotten the pleasure?
[I know He means the pleasure of intimacy. I feel sad too, to think of days I've hesitated to be here, or been distracted. I don't specifically pray, but I feel Him knowing my thoughts.]
Abba:
You know how to lock a bedroom door, how to shut out distractions there.
[I understand His reference to marital intimacy, and the comparison to me being hesitant or distracted here.]
Me:
You're right. I'm sorry.
[I spend some time reminiscing on the many hours of joy I've had here, on all the times I could hardly wait to get here, could hardly tear myself away.]
Me:
Please help me rediscover the joy of meeting You here without fear of pain, without hesitation, without distraction. [Pause. I'm thinking again about how to describe this to readers.] Please help me know how to describe that being here is a pleasure not a duty, the way sex should be.
Abba:
You just did.
Me:
I can't say that! I can't compare this to sex so openly!
Abba:
It's what they'll understand.
[My mind is spinning. I'm grasping for words to veil the intimacy in a more reserved manner.]
Abba:
Isn't that how you meet Me here? Make the comparison.
Me:
When I come here, I am exposed to You at the same time I am at ease with You. I freely offer myself to You.
[silence]
Me:
You want me to say that?!
Abba:
Just speak the truth.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Annie's Song
Tues, Feb 9, 6:30 am
Place:
Lying in bed. I just woke up. When I have sufficient presence of mind, I bless to the Lord with my first conscious thought. I do so today:
Me (whispered aloud in Hebrew):
Baruch ata Adonai Yad He Vav He Eliohe-nu, Elyon Melach ha-Olam, Eli.
Translation:
**Blessed are You YHWH our God, Most High King of time and eternity—my God.
Abba whisper:
Prove it.
[I know He means my prayer closet. I close my eyes for just a moment, trying to wake up. I think I momentarily doze off.]
Abba whisper:
Meet Me.
[I get up and go to my prayer closet. It's cold here, next to a leaky old front door, in the part of the house opposite our wood stove. I turn on the space heater and lay my face on the floor.]
My prayer:
I'm here.
[I wait to see if the Lord will speak again. He doesn't.]
Me:
I'm here. And I'll continue to bless Your name, in the valley, in the desert place.
[The Lord is silent, though I can feel His presence. I call to mind a song with special meaning between me and God. I sing the words mentally, as a prayer, in the order they come to mind:]
On the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering
Blessed Be Your name
When I'm found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed be Your name
In the land that is plentiful
Where Your streams of abundance flow
Blessed be Your name
[I'm still waking up, trying to remember the words about sunshine. I go through the same words over and over, but I can't remember the words about sunshine. I look them up on my iPod, and then mentally sing whole song, skipping the chorus:]
My mentally sung prayer:
Blessed Be Your Name
In the land that is plentiful
Where Your streams of abundance flow
Blessed be Your name
Blessed Be Your name
When I'm found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed Be Your name
Every blessing You pour out
I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say
Blessed be Your name
When the sun's shining down on me
When the world's 'all as it should be'
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be Your name
On the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name
Every blessing You pour out
I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name
You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, blessed be Your name*
Me:
I've not failed to bless Your name. As long as You give me breath and grace to do so, I'll not fail to bless Your name.
[I think about the difficult times I've gone through, in which the Lord has brought this song to me. My mind wanders to the blog post I did Saturday for Bullets & Butterflies—"Why Pray"—and the ensuing discussion in the comments about God's love and need for us.]
Me:
Please tell me, Lord. Do you need us? If I'm wrong I'll admit it.
[The Lord is silent. I think more about the words I quoted in one of my comments: "Mature love says I need you because I love You."]
Me:
Is it true, Lord? Do You love us enough to need us?
[The Lord remains silent, but I can feel His great love. I reverse the words (the Spirit's leading I think): Do I love the Lord enough to need Him for that reason alone?]
Me:
Yes, Lord. I love You. I need You. I need You more than the air I breathe. I love You more than I love life itself. I love You more than anyone else, more than anything else.
[I feel the Lord bring to mind all the distractions that have sometimes prevented me meeting Him in my prayer closet in the morning.]
Me:
Yes, Lord. I need You, I love You more than all those other things. Please help me remember that when I get distracted.
[The Lord remains silent. I begin to tell Him all the reasons I love Him, I need Him.]
Me:
Please tell me, Lord. If I'm wrong I'll admit it. Do You need us?
The Lord's whisper:
I need to be needed.
[I wonder for a moment if it was the Lord's voice or my own, because of the many ways those words have come up between my husband and me in recent weeks.]
Me:
Lord, please tell me. I need to know if it's You speaking. Do You need us?
The Lord:
I need to be needed.
Me:
Please give me other words so they'll believe they're true. ["they" being blog readers.]
The Lord:
They don't need to believe. You believe.
[I call to mind the first time I understood God's need for us, and the ways it was made clear. I call to mind one way I recently experienced profound grief, and the way I understood it to be the Lord's own grief. It occurs to me that just now when I heard the words "I need to be needed," I didn't distinguish the voice of the Father or the Lord Jesus. But I wasn't paying attention.]
Me:
Jesus, was that You speaking?
[I don't hear the Lord speak, but all I can think of is Calvary, how much I needed it, how grateful I am for Jesus' blood. And then another song comes to mind. I mentally sing it as a prayer to the Lord, thinking of each experience the song describes, and of Him being so much better:]
You fill up my senses
like a night in the forest
like the mountains in springtime,
like a walk in the rain
like a storm in the desert,
like a sleepy blue ocean
You fill up my senses,
come fill me again.
Come let me love You,
let me give my life to You
let me drown in Your laughter,
let me die in Your arms
let me lay down beside You,
let me always be with You
come let me love You,
come love me again. **
* "Blessed be the Name of the Lord" lyrics © 2005 Matt Redman, Six Step Records
** "Annie's Song" lyrics © 1974 John Denver, RCA Records
Place:
Lying in bed. I just woke up. When I have sufficient presence of mind, I bless to the Lord with my first conscious thought. I do so today:
Me (whispered aloud in Hebrew):
Baruch ata Adonai Yad He Vav He Eliohe-nu, Elyon Melach ha-Olam, Eli.
Translation:
**Blessed are You YHWH our God, Most High King of time and eternity—my God.
Abba whisper:
Prove it.
[I know He means my prayer closet. I close my eyes for just a moment, trying to wake up. I think I momentarily doze off.]
Abba whisper:
Meet Me.
[I get up and go to my prayer closet. It's cold here, next to a leaky old front door, in the part of the house opposite our wood stove. I turn on the space heater and lay my face on the floor.]
My prayer:
I'm here.
[I wait to see if the Lord will speak again. He doesn't.]
Me:
I'm here. And I'll continue to bless Your name, in the valley, in the desert place.
[The Lord is silent, though I can feel His presence. I call to mind a song with special meaning between me and God. I sing the words mentally, as a prayer, in the order they come to mind:]
On the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering
Blessed Be Your name
When I'm found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed be Your name
In the land that is plentiful
Where Your streams of abundance flow
Blessed be Your name
[I'm still waking up, trying to remember the words about sunshine. I go through the same words over and over, but I can't remember the words about sunshine. I look them up on my iPod, and then mentally sing whole song, skipping the chorus:]
My mentally sung prayer:
Blessed Be Your Name
In the land that is plentiful
Where Your streams of abundance flow
Blessed be Your name
Blessed Be Your name
When I'm found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed Be Your name
Every blessing You pour out
I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say
Blessed be Your name
When the sun's shining down on me
When the world's 'all as it should be'
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be Your name
On the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name
Every blessing You pour out
I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name
You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, blessed be Your name*
Me:
I've not failed to bless Your name. As long as You give me breath and grace to do so, I'll not fail to bless Your name.
[I think about the difficult times I've gone through, in which the Lord has brought this song to me. My mind wanders to the blog post I did Saturday for Bullets & Butterflies—"Why Pray"—and the ensuing discussion in the comments about God's love and need for us.]
Me:
Please tell me, Lord. Do you need us? If I'm wrong I'll admit it.
[The Lord is silent. I think more about the words I quoted in one of my comments: "Mature love says I need you because I love You."]
Me:
Is it true, Lord? Do You love us enough to need us?
[The Lord remains silent, but I can feel His great love. I reverse the words (the Spirit's leading I think): Do I love the Lord enough to need Him for that reason alone?]
Me:
Yes, Lord. I love You. I need You. I need You more than the air I breathe. I love You more than I love life itself. I love You more than anyone else, more than anything else.
[I feel the Lord bring to mind all the distractions that have sometimes prevented me meeting Him in my prayer closet in the morning.]
Me:
Yes, Lord. I need You, I love You more than all those other things. Please help me remember that when I get distracted.
[The Lord remains silent. I begin to tell Him all the reasons I love Him, I need Him.]
Me:
Please tell me, Lord. If I'm wrong I'll admit it. Do You need us?
The Lord's whisper:
I need to be needed.
[I wonder for a moment if it was the Lord's voice or my own, because of the many ways those words have come up between my husband and me in recent weeks.]
Me:
Lord, please tell me. I need to know if it's You speaking. Do You need us?
The Lord:
I need to be needed.
Me:
Please give me other words so they'll believe they're true. ["they" being blog readers.]
The Lord:
They don't need to believe. You believe.
[I call to mind the first time I understood God's need for us, and the ways it was made clear. I call to mind one way I recently experienced profound grief, and the way I understood it to be the Lord's own grief. It occurs to me that just now when I heard the words "I need to be needed," I didn't distinguish the voice of the Father or the Lord Jesus. But I wasn't paying attention.]
Me:
Jesus, was that You speaking?
[I don't hear the Lord speak, but all I can think of is Calvary, how much I needed it, how grateful I am for Jesus' blood. And then another song comes to mind. I mentally sing it as a prayer to the Lord, thinking of each experience the song describes, and of Him being so much better:]
You fill up my senses
like a night in the forest
like the mountains in springtime,
like a walk in the rain
like a storm in the desert,
like a sleepy blue ocean
You fill up my senses,
come fill me again.
Come let me love You,
let me give my life to You
let me drown in Your laughter,
let me die in Your arms
let me lay down beside You,
let me always be with You
come let me love You,
come love me again. **
* "Blessed be the Name of the Lord" lyrics © 2005 Matt Redman, Six Step Records
** "Annie's Song" lyrics © 1974 John Denver, RCA Records
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Poor in Spirit
Sat, Feb 6, morning
Place:
Lying on my back in bed. I feel the Lord tugging me toward the prayer closet. I don't want to go.
My prayer:
I hate this emptiness. I hate having no spirit left in me.
Abba whisper:
Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of Heaven.
Me:
The kingdom is so far away.
Abba:
The kingdom is within you.
Me:
I've no strength to lay hold of it. I was once fearless. Now I'm afraid of a prayer closet.
Abba:
What are you afraid of?
Me:
Of what else You'll take away.
Abba:
You know I'll return more than I ask.
[I turn on my side. I can't make up my mind if I'm about to roll out of bed or trying to hide.]
Abba:
I won't force you.
[I lie there silently.]
Abba:
And I won't beg.
[My heart is pricked that I'm refusing my Lord. I get out of bed and go to the prayer closet. I crouch down and lay on my face.]
Me:
Here I am. But there's none of me left.
Abba:
That's where I need you. That's where we start.
Me [feeling hopeful]:
Are we done entering the valley? Are we on our way out yet?
Abba:
Don't worry about My timing. [Pause] Whatever keeps you from being here [prayer closet] is an idol.
[I think of all the reasons I'm sometimes not here. This is old stuff that the Lord and I have already been over.]
Me:
A lot of things have been idols.
Abba:
You can make idols of My gifts.
Me:
And that's when I lose joy in them.
Abba:
You know My jealousy. Even your joy is an idol if it's not in Me.
Me:
It's so hard down here. So many distractions. Not like Heaven. [I stifle tears to think about how much I love the Lord, how much I long to be with Him.] In Heaven I'll be able to love You perfectly.
Abba:
You prove your love for Me here, amid the distractions.
Place:
Lying on my back in bed. I feel the Lord tugging me toward the prayer closet. I don't want to go.
My prayer:
I hate this emptiness. I hate having no spirit left in me.
Abba whisper:
Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of Heaven.
Me:
The kingdom is so far away.
Abba:
The kingdom is within you.
Me:
I've no strength to lay hold of it. I was once fearless. Now I'm afraid of a prayer closet.
Abba:
What are you afraid of?
Me:
Of what else You'll take away.
Abba:
You know I'll return more than I ask.
[I turn on my side. I can't make up my mind if I'm about to roll out of bed or trying to hide.]
Abba:
I won't force you.
[I lie there silently.]
Abba:
And I won't beg.
[My heart is pricked that I'm refusing my Lord. I get out of bed and go to the prayer closet. I crouch down and lay on my face.]
Me:
Here I am. But there's none of me left.
Abba:
That's where I need you. That's where we start.
Me [feeling hopeful]:
Are we done entering the valley? Are we on our way out yet?
Abba:
Don't worry about My timing. [Pause] Whatever keeps you from being here [prayer closet] is an idol.
[I think of all the reasons I'm sometimes not here. This is old stuff that the Lord and I have already been over.]
Me:
A lot of things have been idols.
Abba:
You can make idols of My gifts.
Me:
And that's when I lose joy in them.
Abba:
You know My jealousy. Even your joy is an idol if it's not in Me.
Me:
It's so hard down here. So many distractions. Not like Heaven. [I stifle tears to think about how much I love the Lord, how much I long to be with Him.] In Heaven I'll be able to love You perfectly.
Abba:
You prove your love for Me here, amid the distractions.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Valley of the Shadow
Fri, Feb 5, 11am
Scripture:
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil: for thou art with me;
thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
(Psalms 23:4 KJV)
Place:
In the shower, the only safe place to go in a house full of people when crying becomes sobbing. I've mentally reviewed how I'm going to close down this blog and have already decided to do so. My only obstacle is I need permission. I'm certain that I'm broken enough to get it.
My prayer:
I've done what You asked. I showed what it is to hear Your voice. I'm listening better now. To keep sharing publicly is too exposing. I need to lay this down. I need Your permission to let go of the blog. You're still taking me into the valley. We're not heading out yet. There's no light to share.
Abba whisper:
People need to see what it is to walk through the valley.
Me:
It's too dark too share. I'm begging You to let me go. I'm pleading with You. Please hear my cry. Please choose someone else.
Abba:
I already chose you.
Me:
Then let me share later, like David. His psalms are on display after we know the outcome. It's too dark right now.
Abba:
You do know the outcome. You work from victory [Calvary] not toward it.
Me:
I have nothing to share in this. I can't put this ugly mess on display.
Abba:
My Son was put on display.
Me:
I HAVE NOTHING INSIDE ME TO GIVE RIGHT NOW !!
Abba:
You have Me. You always have Me. I am enough.
Scripture:
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil: for thou art with me;
thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
(Psalms 23:4 KJV)
Place:
In the shower, the only safe place to go in a house full of people when crying becomes sobbing. I've mentally reviewed how I'm going to close down this blog and have already decided to do so. My only obstacle is I need permission. I'm certain that I'm broken enough to get it.
My prayer:
I've done what You asked. I showed what it is to hear Your voice. I'm listening better now. To keep sharing publicly is too exposing. I need to lay this down. I need Your permission to let go of the blog. You're still taking me into the valley. We're not heading out yet. There's no light to share.
Abba whisper:
People need to see what it is to walk through the valley.
Me:
It's too dark too share. I'm begging You to let me go. I'm pleading with You. Please hear my cry. Please choose someone else.
Abba:
I already chose you.
Me:
Then let me share later, like David. His psalms are on display after we know the outcome. It's too dark right now.
Abba:
You do know the outcome. You work from victory [Calvary] not toward it.
Me:
I have nothing to share in this. I can't put this ugly mess on display.
Abba:
My Son was put on display.
Me:
I HAVE NOTHING INSIDE ME TO GIVE RIGHT NOW !!
Abba:
You have Me. You always have Me. I am enough.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Hard to Listen
Thurs, Feb 4, morning
Place:
Prayer closet
My prayer:
Seems like the higher the summits I reach, the deeper the valleys—I always have to come back to the bottom, to my core, to the same deep pit I started from.
Mental picture:
Colorado valley, with steep mountain walls reaching both low and high.
Spirit whisper:
The valley floor is still a mile high.
The better part of the next hour is spent reading the Bible, praying, and seeking understanding for a piece to be written for Bullets & Butterflies. I leave the prayer closet for an interruption, then wander into the bedroom and sink down into a chair. I feel tired.
My prayer:
You're not a genie I can just call up on demand. I need You to talk to me. I don't seem to be hearing Your voice.
Abba whisper:
You know where to find Me.
I go back to the prayer closet. I'm trying to pray but feel like I'm wandering in circles through clouds.
Me:
You're hard to hear.
Abba:
You're hard to listen.
More mental wandering.
Me:
You give and take away. It’s hard when You take away.
Abba:
Isn’t what I give back always better?
Me:
It’s all a muddle right now, a mess.
Abba:
I like to clean up messes. I chose you, didn't I?
Me:
That's not funny. I feel like all I'm hearing is my own voice. If You want me to blog prayer I need to hear from You. And if it's not going to sound contrived, I need to hear what wouldn't come from me.
Abba:
This is not a game.
(I sit quietly a while, feeling chastised for being demanding. Then I pray for spiritual protection, and intercede for others.)
Me (an hour later, while in the car, thinking about this blog):
I don't want to be embarrassed to have started something I can't follow through on.
Abba:
It isn't about them. It's about Me. You pay closer attention to Me now. You listen more carefully for My voice.
Me:
You had me do a blog so I'd listen better?
Abba:
Whatever it takes.
Me:
Argh! [pause] You’re being hard on me.
Abba:
You can take it. I’m in you.
Place:
Prayer closet
My prayer:
Seems like the higher the summits I reach, the deeper the valleys—I always have to come back to the bottom, to my core, to the same deep pit I started from.
Mental picture:
Colorado valley, with steep mountain walls reaching both low and high.
Spirit whisper:
The valley floor is still a mile high.
The better part of the next hour is spent reading the Bible, praying, and seeking understanding for a piece to be written for Bullets & Butterflies. I leave the prayer closet for an interruption, then wander into the bedroom and sink down into a chair. I feel tired.
My prayer:
You're not a genie I can just call up on demand. I need You to talk to me. I don't seem to be hearing Your voice.
Abba whisper:
You know where to find Me.
I go back to the prayer closet. I'm trying to pray but feel like I'm wandering in circles through clouds.
Me:
You're hard to hear.
Abba:
You're hard to listen.
More mental wandering.
Me:
You give and take away. It’s hard when You take away.
Abba:
Isn’t what I give back always better?
Me:
It’s all a muddle right now, a mess.
Abba:
I like to clean up messes. I chose you, didn't I?
Me:
That's not funny. I feel like all I'm hearing is my own voice. If You want me to blog prayer I need to hear from You. And if it's not going to sound contrived, I need to hear what wouldn't come from me.
Abba:
This is not a game.
(I sit quietly a while, feeling chastised for being demanding. Then I pray for spiritual protection, and intercede for others.)
Me (an hour later, while in the car, thinking about this blog):
I don't want to be embarrassed to have started something I can't follow through on.
Abba:
It isn't about them. It's about Me. You pay closer attention to Me now. You listen more carefully for My voice.
Me:
You had me do a blog so I'd listen better?
Abba:
Whatever it takes.
Me:
Argh! [pause] You’re being hard on me.
Abba:
You can take it. I’m in you.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Made You Laugh
Mon, Feb 1, 5:30pm
Place:
Sitting at internet computer. I’m yet again overwhelmed by relationship challenges and have been crying. I just posted a tweet:
"I am only as strong as I give God permission to be in me." ~ @PeterPollock // I'm SO needing to remember this today.
My prayer [still crying]:
I don't see how blogging prayer is going to work. I can't even share half the crap I'm bringing to You right now.
Abba whisper:
You think I'm not big enough.
Me:
I'M not big enough.
Abba:
"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."
Me:
God, can't You pick someone else?
Abba:
That line's never worked with Me.
Me:
[laughter through tears] Yeah, I know.
Abba:
I made you laugh. [pause] And there's a smile.
Me:
[with resignation] I eye roll You. [sigh, stop crying] Thanks. [wait a bit] Seriously, there’s no way I can share half this stuff.
Abba:
Share the other half.
Me:
I hate arguing with You. You always win.
Abba:
Uh-huh. [pause] You just smiled again.
Me:
You’re doing that on purpose.
[light bulb goes on]
You don’t want me to be sad.
Abba:
Huh-uh. [pause] Because I love you.
Me:
I know. [pause] I love You, too.
Place:
Sitting at internet computer. I’m yet again overwhelmed by relationship challenges and have been crying. I just posted a tweet:
"I am only as strong as I give God permission to be in me." ~ @PeterPollock // I'm SO needing to remember this today.
My prayer [still crying]:
I don't see how blogging prayer is going to work. I can't even share half the crap I'm bringing to You right now.
Abba whisper:
You think I'm not big enough.
Me:
I'M not big enough.
Abba:
"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."
Me:
God, can't You pick someone else?
Abba:
That line's never worked with Me.
Me:
[laughter through tears] Yeah, I know.
Abba:
I made you laugh. [pause] And there's a smile.
Me:
[with resignation] I eye roll You. [sigh, stop crying] Thanks. [wait a bit] Seriously, there’s no way I can share half this stuff.
Abba:
Share the other half.
Me:
I hate arguing with You. You always win.
Abba:
Uh-huh. [pause] You just smiled again.
Me:
You’re doing that on purpose.
[light bulb goes on]
You don’t want me to be sad.
Abba:
Huh-uh. [pause] Because I love you.
Me:
I know. [pause] I love You, too.
Monday, February 1, 2010
My Voice
Mon, Feb 1, 7:00am
Place:
Lying in bed. I've been awake for half an hour, mentally chatting at the Lord, thinking about posts I've already put on the new blog, reviewing all the details in His presence. I've been lying here long enough.
My prayer:
I don't know I don't know I don't know. Is this what I should do, Lord? It feels WAY too intimate.
Abba whisper:
Just show what it is to hear My voice.
Me:
This is too much me. I'll talk about You. But this is way too much 'me' to be comfortable.
Abba whisper:
People need it.
Me:
I don't want to cheapen it [talking to You]. And transparency is one thing. But this. This is too much.
Abba whisper:
And My Son?
Mental recollection:
Jesus in Gethsemane: The Son of Man, utterly transparent. [My argument is effectively invalidated.]
Me:
They'll think I'm nuts.
Abba whisper:
Do I care?
Me:
[mental laughter] No. [very long pause] Okay, You win. And, yes, I'm getting up.
Place:
Lying in bed. I've been awake for half an hour, mentally chatting at the Lord, thinking about posts I've already put on the new blog, reviewing all the details in His presence. I've been lying here long enough.
My prayer:
I don't know I don't know I don't know. Is this what I should do, Lord? It feels WAY too intimate.
Abba whisper:
Just show what it is to hear My voice.
Me:
This is too much me. I'll talk about You. But this is way too much 'me' to be comfortable.
Abba whisper:
People need it.
Me:
I don't want to cheapen it [talking to You]. And transparency is one thing. But this. This is too much.
Abba whisper:
And My Son?
Mental recollection:
Jesus in Gethsemane: The Son of Man, utterly transparent. [My argument is effectively invalidated.]
Me:
They'll think I'm nuts.
Abba whisper:
Do I care?
Me:
[mental laughter] No. [very long pause] Okay, You win. And, yes, I'm getting up.
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