Why Reading is Easier than Praying

There have been a lot of times in my life when I've grown distant from God. Much to my students' chagrin, that's never resulted in some massive crime spree or drunken orgy or barroom brawl. I've been lucky enough to avoid rock bottom. I've simply forgotten or ignored God for a time and attempted to live without close proximity to Him.

Every time I've had to come crawling back. Embarrassed, stupefied, and Israelite-like, I come with my tail-tucked between my legs like a teenager who's well past curfew and is now trying to find a way to sneak back into the house, hoping nobody noticed they were gone. It's always awkward, and it's never fun; but I always feel better when I'm back. Life is just better when God's in it. The one benefit of making this mistake over and over is having a large sample size to prove that hypothesis. That statement has been tested and proved so many times for me it's become scientific law in my life.

When I think about this process about crawling back, though, I realize something strange. There are two parts of coming back and reconnecting with God - frequent Bible reading and prayer. Pondering this, I realize that the Bible reading is the easy part. I can jump right into that. The prayer, however, is tough. Scary. I've almost got to bully myself into it. I realized why today.

Psalm 199:97-105 has this to say about reading Scripture:

• it makes me wiser than my enemies
• the words are "sweeter than honey to my mouth"
• I gain understanding and wisdom
• it provides guidance and advice for the future - a lamp to my feet and a light to my path

With Bible reading, I immediately gain some very worthwhile results that feel good. Prayer doesn't work that way. With prayer, I, the unholy, must face the Holy One in great humility. I have much to confess; and my sin looks so black standing there in front of the Holy One, trying to crawl back into His lap and talk once again like nothing ever happened.

Prayer is the tough part, the longer road to recovery. But the rewards at the end of that path, my scientific law tells me, are well worth the effort.

Why Pray?

Prayer is still a huge mystery to me. I took a summer back when I lived in Nebraska (no grad school + no kids = free time) and read about as much as I could on prayer to hopefully discover some answers. I came to a better understanding and unearthed a few nuggets of wisdom, but I've pretty much forgotten a lot of it. I'm still confused as ever.

One question I've always had is, Why? Seriously, what's the point? A few facts strung together really puzzle me:

• God is omnipotent.
• God knows everything that will happen before it does.
• God is smarter than me.

If all that is true, why I am asking for anything? What's my role here? God knows what He wants and has the power to do what He wants. I'm a fallen human with a flawed perspective. I'm supposed to tell God to change His mind because I said so? Or do what He already decided He was going to do? Really? God needs a reminder? God needs me to bring to His attention world poverty and my friend's broken marriage and my weakness with pride? It doesn't seem to add up.

There are more answers than what I'll provide here, Biblically-sound and logical and motivating answers. I hope to provide some of these types of answers in future blog posts. What I have now, though, is an answer that my experience of praying big has taught me this month.

Experience tells me that God doesn't need all that. I do. Prayer is for me. What praying big has done for me this month is daily remind me that I'm not God. I need that reminder. If I pray, I remember that there's a lot I can't control and that I'm not the center of the universe. My problems and "needs" look minuscule. There is a whole huge world out there, and my day is barely a speck of dust in the wind. It gets my mind right where it should be - on the Omnipotent One who actually has the power to do big things.

Also, it keeps me from getting depressed. I think anyone, myself included, is really susceptible to depression if they focus on themselves too much. None of our lives are perfect, and they never will be. We'll never be talented enough, pretty enough, rich enough, or in love enough. It just won't ever happen. Our lives can always get better. When I focus on myself, I see where I fall short. I see what's wrong with my life, and I feel helpless about that. When I pray big, especially for other people, I want something deeply for somebody else. I feel helpful. I feel like we're in this together - me, them, and God - and someday we're going to feel pretty dang good about this because we're going to witness a miracle happening. I smile and think about a better life for the object of my prayer. I smile and think about the power and love of God. I avoid focusing on myself, and I find great joy.

God doesn't need prayer; I do. And I'm thankful for that lesson this month.

Notes: Power, Poetry, and Paul

One practice I began several years ago was having a legal pad handy any time I was reading or listening to a speaker of some kind so that I could collect notes. I had become quite frustrated that I seemed to gather great ideas from texts and people and be driven to deep thoughts and motivations, but days or weeks later had entirely forgotten what I had "learned." There have been times I've been spotty at my consistency with this practice, but it's a technique I've increased in frequency as of late. I've decided that occasionally, perhaps every week or so, I'll list some of the highlights from my notes here on the blog. Hopefully you'll find value in at least some of what I've collected.

Here are some of the random notes I've collected lately:

1. There is a common divine leadership pattern in accounts of successful Biblical leaders. The pattern goes as follows:

• God takes the initiative by looking for a person who will submit to Him.
• He makes that individual aware of a need.
• The need becomes a personal burden of the person God has chosen.
• The individual feels morally compelled to act on it.
• The individual calls others to join in the cause, often at great personal risk.

Ruth is one example.

(from John C. Maxwell's commentary in The Maxwell Leadership Bible)

2. "The most important single aid to my ability to use my tongue for the glory of the Lord Jesus Christ is allowing the word of God to dwell in me so richly that I cannot speak in any other accent."

- Sinclair Ferguson

3. "Poetry makes the half man whole by saying the things which he feels but cannot say."

- Clyde Kilby

4. "Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God."

- Corrie ten Boom

5. There is no way to read 2 Corinthians 10 & 11 and believe that Paul is a skilled speaker, yet he was one of the most influential men in history. God provides the necessary skills. God does big things with small people. Do not limit God.

What Other People Think

I came across an interesting thought in 2 Corinthians today.

Paul is writing to the Corinthians about why he and those with him are doing things a certain way. The passage seems somewhat trivial, as he's discussing strategy for bringing a gift and who is going with him to bring this gift. However, one statement here stood out to me:

"For we are taking pains to do what is right, not only in the eyes of the Lord, but also in the eyes of men." (8:21)

The popular response in our culture regarding what others might think is usually this: "I don't care what anybody else thinks." It's cool to not care. It supposedly shows a great independence, a "rogue"-like quality, a strong sense of confidence in who one is and what they do. Paul here calls this a completely wrong approach.

There is, of course, great value in not giving too much weight to what others think. Popular opinion should never drive our actions. Christians are even told in the Bible that they are to be aliens in the world, that they will be shunned and persecuted because they are not of the world. We aren't called to fit in.

However, Paul is saying Christians cannot afford to ignore the eyes of others; we must care what they think. While we don't necessarily need approval, we should strive for respect. It does matter what our worst enemies think about us and how the masses who despise our worldview see us. In fact, that probably matters most. We are representatives of Christ; and if our goal isn't to most accurately display Him to the world, we probably have misplaced priorities.

I've written down in my notes today what I believe is a good maxim to follow in word and in deed: bring no glory to self, bring no shame to God.

The Start of Something

In my month of praying big, I've allowed myself one prayer for myself. One dream.

I've always wanted to write a book, but I've wanted that in the same way that I've wanted to learn how to play the guitar or become fluent in Spanish. Technically speaking, yes, I do want those things to happen, but not enough to do anything right now. Someday, I tell myself. Maybe. If it works out.

No more.

I want to write. I'm going to pursue writing at some level, hopefully eventually writing that ends up in a nice bound collection of 200 or so pages with some clever design on the book jacket and a catchy title. If those are stilled being made by the time I accomplish this. (I hope so; I hate the Kindle.)

I realize that by saying this publicly, I incur the risk of being asked, "How's that whole writing thing going?" somewhere in the distant future with nothing but a shrug and empty blog posts to point to. But that's good pressure. I do want this to happen. The more blogging I do, and the more I read from other people, the more I want to find a way. So I'm committing to finding a way. I don't know what it will look like, and I don't know exactly what, when, and how I'll get serious about it. But I'm going to click the "publish post" button on blogger in a few minutes, and this statement will be out there. I'm on the hook to get myself moving. I started by telling God and trying to get Him on board.

This is a dangerous desire for me and requires constant introspection. Do I want this because I want people to read what I have to say and give me praise? Or do I want this as an opportunity to bring glory to God? This blog itself is part of that. Obviously I want people to follow my blog. I want more and more people to read what I write. And I want them to think it's good writing and be challenged by it. But do I want that because that brings me value, or do I want the truth and love of Christ to pour through the words? Am I hoping for people to have a positive judgment of me as a person, or a clearer vision of the successes and struggles of an average Christian? It's a fine line to walk. And it's a hard question to answer.

Donald Miller had a great post about this recently. One excerpt I particularly liked is this:

As creators, when we seek glory from people, we drink from a poisonous well. We can get love from other people, for sure. But love and glory are different. Love from our friends comforts, but glory, that is the love of God that will be poured through our souls upon our reunion, is what we are really looking for.

This no doubt will be a long journey with many obstacles and rejections and probably bad writing (though hopefully not many impure motives). Of course, it could be a short road if God says He's got different plans. I can accept that. But I can't accept still saying 10 years down the road that I hope it happens someday. I want to be 10 years closer to my goal. So it begins. . .

I Got Your Back

Part of the traditional American Dream is for parents to want their children to be better off than they were. Many people work hard to provide opportunities for their children that they never had so that the children can live better than they did. I partly subscribe to this goal.

I have no dreams or wishes for my daughters concerning money. I have no hopes that they will end up “better off” than I am financially. It is inconsequential to me. Frankly, part of me hopes that they will face some sort of financial hardship in their lives, a time when money is tight and they must make choices about how to use scarce resources and learn that their joy has very little to do with their bank account. If they end up with a great deal of money, I simply pray that they understand that to whom much has been given, much is to be expected.

I do wish for them to be better than me, however. Not with money, but with people. The other night on our drive home, I was speaking with Elise, my 3 year old, about the phrase, “I got your back.” I said it to her, and she wanted to know what that meant. I explained to her about it being a promise to be there for someone else, to care greatly about their happiness, to support them in tough times and celebrate with them in good times. I explained to her that as a family, it’s important for us to have each others’ backs. We spoke about how her younger sister, Leah, would especially need her to have her back. This is what family’s do.

Pretty much immediately I realized that I was perhaps the world’s worst person to be teaching this to her. I did not have my sisters’ backs while we were growing up. Oh, I played with them and interacted with them at appropriate times. I don’t think I was mean. I was just, well, absent. Self-absorbed may be a better word. Or perhaps jackass. I lived in my own world. I worked hard to achieve my own personal goals, and I focused solely on those goals. I had no idea what was important to my sisters when they were younger. I couldn’t celebrate the good times and support them in the bad because I really had no idea about any of their times, good or bad. I had goals, and I was reaching for them. I had nobody’s back but my own.

Now, there’s little I can do in support of them other than prayer. One is married, the other five states away. We’re adults - they probably don’t need much from me. I “have their backs” now, but how much can I really do?

In this way I want my children to end up “better off” than their father. I want them to know they can count on each other from years of practice, not hope that they’ll find support in adulthood. I want them motivated and focused on success in their youth, just not so much on self.

Elise and I talked about Libya last night. And Japan. She enjoys looking through the pictures of my Time Magazine. She’s worried about that mean king in Libya and the people he’s hurting and all the smoke in those pictures. She’s concerned about the people without homes in Japan. She’s learning the world is bigger than her immediate desires. In this way, with a global perspective and familial pride, her and her sister will be better than me.

A Change of Perspective

Today is the 15th, so I'm halfway through my "pray big" month as detailed in my last post. This organized, purposeful approach towards coming to God with requests that require mountains of faith has altered the way I see the world in merely two weeks of work.

One way is with people. I have a list of nonbelievers whom I love and are important in my life that I've made part of this month long prayer journey. I seek their conversion desperately, not as someone looking for people he likes to join his team (I'm not the Miami Heat, and this isn't spiritual free agency), but as someone who wants to see their joy explode exponentially and their eternal fate to be secure. I love them, and I want great life for them.

Praying for them has changed how I see them and how I think about them. Most of the time, like most people I would guess, I see others in relation to their effect on me. It sounds terrible, but I think this is fairly universally true. My friends are my friends because they have something to offer me. This person shares my love of basketball, this person entertains me, this person is great to drink a beer with, this person makes my day more enjoyable, or this person treats my daughters well. Sure, I absolutely want to serve these people as well and be a person of value to them; but I think of them first in terms of how they affect my life. (I hope this is natural - otherwise I risk losing several friends with this blog post.)

Praying for them changes that. It makes me forget about me and see them the way God sees them. They are people of great intellect, passion, and ability; and they have so much to offer as a follower of Christ. More importantly, Christ has so much to offer to them.

I hope my prayer has as big of an impact on those I'm praying for as it does on me. I have become free to see greatness in their future, not great ways they can improve my life. In the end I believe that will make the joy of all of us greater.

March's Mission

In my step-by-step, month-by-month list of personal improvements for the year, I've decided March is the month to tackle my goal of "praying big."

Realistically, I should probably simplify the goal this month from "pray big" to just "pray." That would be a huge step in the right direction. My life isn't devoid of prayer - I pray with my family at the table and before bed - it's just lacking focused prayer. This may be, in my mind, my greatest spiritual weakness. Prayer has been a years long struggle for me as I've attempted to understand it. Fellow Christians ask me to pray for certain problems in their lives, and I want to ask them, "Are you sure? Do you know how bad I am at this?" And as I rail against the idea of not living out one's beliefs, in the back of my head I know that I'm talking about me and my lack of prayer.

But I will not diminish the goal. I said I needed to start praying big, so that's exactly what I'm going to do. I don't need to baby-step this one with some sort of gradual nicotine-patch approach to my prayer life. I've already baby-stepped this one enough: despite the fact that I realize how big of a weakness this is for me, I've left it until now because I knew it just wouldn't be a successful attempt during basketball season. I basically admitted to myself that I wouldn't make time, so I should just wait until March. So here I am, with no where else to hide and no more excuses to use.

I made a list the other night of big prayer items in my life. Miracles, basically. I've got broken relationships, lost souls, hopeless scenarios, and pie in the sky dreams written on that list. I'm carrying the list with me so that as more come to me I can write them down. I've committed to praying through the list this month. My goal is to pray every day about a couple of items on the list. I've already missed one day this month because I fell asleep on the couch at 9:15, but I hope that's an anomaly.

I don't know what I'll achieve through this journey. I did acquire unexpected gains from January and February's focused efforts, though, so I'm curious what will happen in March. If nothing else, I'll certainly be praying again.

Velvet-Covered Brick

I love Donald Miller's writing, own most of his books, and I regularly follow his blog. He's witty, honest, and not afraid to gore some sacred cows of the Christian faith. Having said that, Miller is definitely not Christ, and his books are not Gospel. I don't often take issue with statements regarding religion that he makes, but a recent post on his blog was a bit dangerous in my mind. A couple of troublesome statements:

• "We are taught there are only two sides to an issue. This is, of course, absurd."
• "The truth is not so black and white."

In a sense, I agree, in that it is important to understand viewpoints other than one's own and that there are indeed some complicated issues in this world. However, sometimes truth is this simple. Sometimes it is black and white, right vs. wrong. I don't think Miller is a wishy-washy Christian based on this post; however, I do think his eagerness for his audience to embrace these ideas provides freedom for them to not have to find truth in the world. Perhaps, it provides them freedom to never have to accept others speaking the truth to them in love, either.

I've heard this idea of speaking the truth in love to others called a "velvet-covered brick." Sometimes the people you love in life screw up, go down a difficult path, make inadvertent mistakes, etc. Sometimes you're the person headed off the deep end. Situations like this call for a velvet-covered brick. Love is telling people what they need to hear, not what they want to hear.

We seem to be heading further and further into a culture, especially in religious circles, that fear the truth in love. Miller sees Christians becoming too judgmental, too "black and white" on some issues; I see a trend towards less and less conviction in the name of inclusion.

I'm not calling for exclusion: if I was, I would lose most of my friends. Very few of my friends share my worldview. But I am calling for honesty and for a lack of fear in speaking truth.

I began reading Kevin DeYoung's blog this week, and I found something today that speaks to this issue:

"If there is no way to be simultaneously bold and humble; if there is no way to be a gentle, caring person while still speaking in clear tones about hurtful error; if there is no way to correct those who oppose sound doctrine without being a moral monster; if there’s no way to love truth and grace at the same time, then there’s no way to be a biblical Christian. Judgmentalism is a sin and Calvinists can be jerks. But not every judgment is sinful and not every truth is cruel just because Reformed people teach it."

I'm with him on that. Sometimes truth can be that simple.