Prayer

Earlier this year I read an amazing book by Cindy Jacobs called The Power of Persistent Prayer. Honestly, it changed the way I thought about prayer. And the way that I actually, well, prayed. I wholeheartedly recommend it.

I had been considering what it was to pray. How does one go about praying? What makes prayer more than just talking to God? How do I, in my prayer life, commune with Him in a deeper and more intimate way? Prayer is amazing, and it's so much more than just taking our problems to God.

I'm fascinated with the mystery of worship and its capacity to be an active expression of prayer. Our worship is not a separate entity to our prayer. There is so much about worship that is connected with prayer. They compliment and strengthen one another. They go hand-in-hand.

I have discovered the amazing power of declaring God's will over my life and the divine authority that He has given through His Holy Spirit to claim victory. I can approach His throne with boldness and confidence that He will hear me and answer me. These are areas that I often neglect in my prayer life. I've always felt unworthy of asking God for things which I think I don't deserve. The thing is, I don't deserve them. God still wants to bless me but He also want's me to ask. I'm guilty of leaving out the asking step but expecting God to deliver. Don't you think that's unfair on God? Ask, and you shall receive, right? Not think or imagine or wish. Ask. If you don't ask, you most likely won't get. And as much as I run the risk of getting a 'No', I won't get a 'Yes' without asking either.

The other day I was pondering a problem. I caught myself worrying over something when I should've given the problem straight to God. Such an easy pit to fall into. It seems like such a logical thing to do, to surrender that thing and lay it at the feet of Jesus. But it's almost never my first response. I tend to hold it close, letting the big problem fester into a bigger problem that seems insurmountable the more I consider it. As I reigned my thinking in and gave the problem over to God, I was reminded of the verse: Do not be anxious about anything, but in prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God // Philippians 4:6. So simple. Yet how I over-complicate things! Instead of wasting all that energy on worrying over my problem, I have only to present it to God, tell him about it and surrender it to his care. Seriously, how easy. If only that were always my first action instead of my late reaction.

We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God's will. And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the likeness of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those he predestined, he also called; those he called, he also justified; those he justified, he also glorified. What, then, shall we say in response to this? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all - how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? // Romans 8:26-32 

This thing called prayer is so mysterious. It connects us to the very heart of God. But it's up to us to cultivate the connection. So let's do it! What have we got to lose?

The Heart and the Bottle

I recently picked up a book that I knew I just had to have. You know how sometimes you just know it needs to be yours even though you haven't read it yet? Yep, it was like that. And even though I did read the whole book right there in the bookshop, it just confirmed that I had to take it home with me. Sometimes there are purchases that are head buys and sometimes there are purchases that are heart buys. This one was a heart buy.

It's about a little girl (one like any other) whose head was filled with the curiosities of the world. She took delight in finding new things. Her imagination defied reality and her world with full of intrigue and wonderment. One day she found a chair and put her heart in a bottle for safekeeping. And nothing was the same. She forgot about the stars and her wondering and the curiosities of life. Her bottle became heavy but at least her heart was safe. She never noticed these things until she met someone smaller and curious about the world. But she didn't know how to answer her without her heart. So she tried to take her heart out of the bottle. But couldn't. She no longer remembered. If not for someone smaller and still curious about the world.  And the heart was put back where it came from and the chair was no longer empty.


How simply beautiful. I am struck with the fact the childhood is truly magical. So full of wonder, curiosity, joy, intrigue, simplicity and infinite possibilities. Ever stop to consider why children always ask "why?" so often? Because anything could be. There are no hard facts.  Nothing beyond the limits of their imagination.

Have we lost our curiosity? Our wonderment at the world? The sense of the infinite realm of possibilities? Doesn't God say that anything is possible with Him? Have we limited His potential because we have limited our understandings to the fallible physical world around us? The one where we are constantly disappointed. The one where it's hard to see the beautiful things while peering into the harsh light of day. The one where sorrow often outweighs joy. The one where hardship is normal and ease almost completely out of reach. Do we need to take a step back and realize that we've lost something and as hard as we try, we can't get that bottle to open? Maybe we need to humble ourselves and ask someone whose sense of the world is far more expansive and limitless to open it for us. And maybe if we choose that, then our hearts will be put back where they came from and our chair won't be so empty anymore. Only the bottle will.

Magical

Her little hands reach upward and I pick her up. She tightens her arms around my neck and I squeeze back. She pulls herself away and gives a quiet but confident, "I luf you". It's the loveliest hug ever. I love her too. Childhood is magical and she exuberates everything that is beautiful about being completely child-like. She bestows her gift of love so genuinely and freely and I feel unbelievably privileged...

Imagine how God must feel when we love him with abandon. With such simple, pure, captivating love. I love my job. ♥