The Gift of Prayer - Reclaimed

Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative

Do you pray? Are your prayers limited to formulaic “Now I lay me down to sleep,” sorts of offerings? Is prayer intensely personal or only something you do in very desperate, pivotal life moments? Has prayer ever abandoned you?

My boys will tell you that in the worst of homeless times, we devoted any time we were alone to prayer. If the wheels on our car were rolling, I was praying with them. When Son #1 begged me not to pray because life only got worse when I prayed, I prayed on. I could not foresee a day when prayer would abandon me and I prayer.

I once ended grace before a meal with the words, “Okay! See you later!” After which, I began chatting with a friend and eating. Till I saw the stunned look on her face. As we both burst out laughing, I asked, “Did I just say . . . ?”

She replied, “Yes. I thought, 'My! She really is on good terms with him, isn't she?' ” Even today, the memory makes me laugh right out loud.

Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative

Given those realities, you might think I have always been able to abandon myself to the discipline of prayer. You'd be dead wrong. In the dark, dark days I did pray. Not for myself or my family but for others. I had no words left when it came to my life. I was spent. I hoped others were praying for me while I prayed for them.

In that time of devotion to others, I would waken in the wee hours and call out names of friends and family. If I knew of situations causing pain, confusion, or despair, I'd lift those up too. When sleep refused to come, I'd flip on the computer and begin to jot notes to those for whom I prayed. I might not know if anyone was praying for me, but at least friends knew when and how I prayed for them.

I often wondered, “Does anyone see me? Is there anyone left who cares? Does God ever call me to someone's mind and spur them to pray for me?” If I wondered those things, others might too. So, I'd jot my notes of reassurance, “You are not forgotten. I see you in your pain.” Sleep would finally come even tho' rest did not.

Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative

I began to think of myself as an intercessory prayer warrior. I was not proud nor preening in that role. It was the desperate act of a desperate soul. Into those long days of desperation came a note that silenced me. After it came, the only time I prayed was with my boys and then minus the warrior's heart which formerly typified my prayers.

The day came when I received a reply filled with flip nonchalance. My prayers for this family were appreciated but not necessary at all. Thank you very much. I sat stupefied knowing the gentleman's immediate family had endured public disgrace and enduring crises on an ongoing  basis. His rebuff came as a crippling slap to my soul.

The middle of the night prayers and notes were no more. Instead I sat in silence. I was not God's head cheerleader. I had adjusted to that reality. I had decided that if I couldn't fulfill that role, I could be a prayer warrior. After all, even the Bible encouraged everyone to that role! Now it was plain. I couldn't even be a prayer warrior.

Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative

Maybe I gave up too easily? By the day I received the, “Thanks but no thanks,” note re my prayers, it didn't take a lot to silence me. In the years since, I have prayed only when asked. My soul felt hollow. I felt lost.

When I least expected it, I found my prayer 'mojo' again. While I was at the Blue Ridge Christian Writers Conference, I took a non-fiction class. The students included a number of ladies young enough to be my daughters.

Yesterday, as I was reflecting over the week away, I thought of those 'girls'. Before I knew it, I found myself praying those middle-of-the-night kinds of prayers in broad daylight. I call them my “Monday Girls” because I decided to hover over them in prayer on Mondays. I had made the decision before I knew there was a decision to be made.

In one of the bravest acts of courage this fraidy cat has ever exhibited, I went out on a limb. I sent them a note telling them of my prayers. I told them they are my “Monday Girls”. I did not tell them how fearful I was to contact them and make such a bold and uninvited proclamation. I did not tell them I cried after I hit the send button because I was so scared of rejection. Truth be known, I did.

Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative

Just as I began to kick myself for falling down the same old rabbit hole believing God had a role for me no matter what life experience tells me, notes began trickling back. Kind and gracious notes thanking me for my gift of prayer and promising prayers for me as well.

It was as if someone spoke up and said, “Welcome home, fraidy cat. Sure are glad you're back.”

Love you long and strong. If you are a fraidy cat, my prayers have hovered over you for a year now. It's a scary place out there. We fraidy cats have to stick together! Come back soon and bring a friend?

Courtesy B. Creasy

1 Timothy 2: 1-2 (The  Message)

The first thing I want you to do is pray. Pray every way you know how, for everyone you know. Pray especially for rulers and their governments to rule well so we can be quietly about our business of living simply, in humble contemplation. This is the way our Savior God wants us to live. 

 

All That Glitters...May Be Counterfeit

Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative

I was easing the car down the street so that my best friend could walk along beside me. Reality was closing in around us. We were sobbing. I was moving far away. It just wasn't fair. We had so much left to do and say.

You know when you meet someone and have the feeling that they've always been, and will always be, with you? We laughed at each other without needing a punch line. All I had to do was see her eyes shift in a new direction. I'd follow the silent signal and know without asking what I was supposed to see and why. Most times, it meant one of two things: “Day-LAW! Can you believe what I just saw?” or “Wait! Don't laugh till it's safe!” That's the kind of friends we were. It took less than a year which is all we had.

Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative

Fourteen years later, I feel the rupture that tore through my heart as I watched her disappear in the rear view mirror. When I think of her last gift, my tears do just what they did then. They mingle with laughter that overwhelms the tears.

That curtain-of-time lifting breeze brushes across my neck. I feel the car stop one last time. She steps up, lays her hand on the window, and leans in as if daring me to roll it up and drive away. Her 'evil' grin is alight with mischief. “Do me one favor, ya hear? Find that first friend. Make it. Get it over with and move on. 'Cause you and me both know that first friend is gonna be a weirdo you need to get shed of quick as you can!” (In case you wonder, she had been friend #2 that year.)

Pain gave way to momentary glee as we both doubled over in laughter. She had traced my tendency to make fast, first friends with folks who turned out to be rather less than dependable. Double-minded you might say. I was stunned. From the outside looking in, it was as plain as day. Ignorance is bliss till fast made friendships come to disappointing conclusions.

So it was that the phone rang over the next few months, and I would hear the giggle that matched the evil grin. “Made that first friend yet and moved on to number two?” I don't think either of us knew how helpful that insight would be as time moved on. Now that I think of it, she and God both look out for me when it comes to relationships.

In the intervening years, I have sometimes been perplexed by God's soft but insistent tap upon my shoulder. It was if he'd say, “That one there...beware. As good as things look on the outside, not all is as it seems. Beware. Do not pursue that friendship no matter how inviting nor how Godly it may appear. Beware.”

Friady cats do not often 'beware' very well. In fact, when given a choice, we will decide that any social disconnect is because of our own inadequacies. We will deny evidence to the contrary, including the voice of God whispering in our ears. Especially if the social connection represented seems to glitter like gold.

Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative

I heard the cautions when they came. Yet, I was loathe to hear and OBEY. In each case, everyone LIKED the person about whom I sensed the caution. I was the only one who seemed to be getting the memo from God. It was high school all over again. I was watching the popular girl who served as the linchpin of the popular crowd. I was not in her crowd. Nothing I could do would get me there either...especially if I obeyed God's quiet voice saying, “Beware.”

If I could just squirm my way into the the fray, my life would glitter like gold as well. If I couldn't, I told myself it was me. I did not glitter nor was I gold. I was a misfit destined to stand on the outside looking in. The only one left to sit and wonder why there was no place for me in that inner circle of fun.

Courtesy M. Horrocks

His caution was never as funny, and always lonelier, than the one my laughter loving friend spoke over me as I left town. With each occasion, the choice to ignore the warning brought pain and confusion because all that glitter was counterfeit. I should have listened. Instead, I hedged my bets and kept on trying to be the girl that glittered just enough to be one of the in-crowd.

It's happened again just recently. This time, however, I did a better job of stepping away in time. Oh, yea. The voice in my head told me what a loser I was and how everyone else but me was having fun. I guess I'm getting older and wiser because I refused to yield to my own insecurities. I put up wobbly boundaries and decided to listen AND obey. The loneliness was razor sharp and never went away.

God doesn't always confirm our decisions – even the hard ones. This time, in his mercy, he did. He let me stumble upon a situation that unveiled my longed for counterfeit glitter in all its cunning, deceptive glory. He reassured me that a double-minded man is unstable in all his ways including the ways of friendship.

Courtesy M. Horrocks

What about you, fraidy cat? Does that same voice caution you? Some call it conscience; others call it intuition. Do you discount the voice and choose to believe you are the misfit? Would you sacrifice your soul to fit in even when God's quiet voice says, “Run?” Oh, fraidy cat, may the day come when we hear his voice and understand his caution as easily as we understand the friend who can communicate volumes without ever uttering a word of explanation.

Love you long and strong. Come again soon. All fraidy cats are welcome here, especially those who believe they are the misfits always destined to be on the outside looking in. Welcome home. What took you so long?

Proverbs 23: 6-8 (ESV)

Courtesy B. Creasy

Do not eat the bread of a man who is stingy; do not desire his delicacies, for he is like one who is inwardly calculating. “Eat and drink!” he says to you, but his heart is not with you. You will vomit up the morsels that you have eaten, and waste your pleasant words.

Proverbs 26: 24 (NIV)

A malicious man disguises himself with his lips, but in his heart he harbors deceit.