The DMV, God and Me (When Waiting Sucks)

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By: Jana Greene

But those who wait upon God get fresh strength.
    They spread their wings and soar like eagles,
They run and don’t get tired,
    they walk and don’t lag behind. – Isaiah 40:29 (MSG)

If my life had an allegorical venue right now, it would be the DMV office.

Nobody there seemed to care about rules. The last time I went, there were children running all over, people playing games on their cellphones with the volume up, others having boisterous telephone conversations (mostly about making gravy,) and – I swear this is true – eating the Kentucky Fried Chicken they’d brought in.

It’s chaos in the lobby.  And not even the controlled kind. Much like the circumstances in my life right now.

When I go to pick my cattle-tag “next in line” numbered ticket, the printer is jammed. I go ask a worker about it, but she tells me to sit down and wait for my ticket to be called.

“But….”

“Go sit DOWN please.”

There are four DMV agents on duty and about 40 people waiting. Some of them are moving so slowly, I think they might be walking backwards. One of them finally comes to my aid and tinkers with the machine. When I go up to accept the ticket she pulled, I can feel the eyeballs of the other people waiting bore through my skull. I know what they’re thinking, because I’m thinking it too.

CAN’T WE JUST GET THIS SHOW ON THE ROAD ALREADY?

License renewal is such a PAIN.

See, I know how to drive a car, but the state thinks it’s a good idea to make me come back every 10 years or so and prove that I still remember.

But then I pick up the leaflet about road signs that I am about to be quizzed on, my confidence deflates. They’ve come up with some new ones, folks! We didn’t have those when I learned to drive, back is the Jurassic period. New directional signs, because the dozens we already had weren’t enough to heed.

When my number got called, I hopped up like Charlie when he found the Golden Ticket to the Chocolate Factory, and hustled up to the agent available.

And there I stood with nary an acknowledgement from her that I was there.

A good three minutes I stood there, then six more minutes. Finally she looks up and asked me with cold, dead eyes how I can be helped.

Now at this point I’m feeling super awkward and cannot remember what to do with my face. Smile? Furrow the brow?

Then she rushes  (dawdles) through the tests and I’m seated for the dreaded license photo that inevitably makes me look akin to Winston Churchill.

And then it was done…..my license was renewed.

I’d only been at the DMV for 2 1/2 hours, though it seemed so much longer. It always seems so much longer when you are going through something.

It was not the Department of Motor Vehicles fantasy experience I’d hoped for (haha) But it made me think about waiting in a new way.

I know this is a strange analogy. But in this season of my life, I do feel like I’m at the spiritual Department of Motor Vehicles.

I wrangle with outside forces just to find my place in line.

(Do I belong in this line or that?  What am I supposed to be doing, God?)

Wait.

In life, struggling minutes become hours, and while there is activity all around me, none of it is about solving my problem.  It’s just noise.

(Lord, I feel like maybe I can be still and know, well…YOU are YOU, if I were in a little less chaotic atmosphere….)

Wait again.

I’ve studied the  roadside pamphlet of life, and realized that I don’t know everything. Or even many things. So I try to cram as much of the apparent hieroglyphs into my sad, tired brain.

(Delve into the Bible, eeny-meeny-miny-mo style. Lord I know you are trying to tell me something! I’ll just flip through your Word until a page gets stuck on my hangnail, and that will be the magical verse that gets me through this season in life.)

Wait some more.

A renewal can mean being called in to prove that I  still know what I’ve known all my life. God is never content with His children just eeking by.  He loves me too much for that. He loves you too much for that. He knows our potential and wants great things for us.

(Why am I feeling like I’m being taken back to the basics in my faith?)

Just wait a bit longer, He says.

I’m too tired to learn new things Lord. I thought we had a pretty good thing going already. What’s up with all this drama? It’s like eerything is happening right now, and NOTHING is happening right now.

(I need to know you are with me in the midst of all of this.)

Wait upon me, child.

But this WAITING, oh Lord. Oy vey, the WAITING! I’ve discovered that what I hate most about waiting is that it gives me too much time to run through a thousand scenarios in my mind, nearly all of which are doomsday in nature. I suppose that’s where ‘lean not on your understanding’ becomes applicable.

God’s timing is perfect – the machine is not jammed. (Sometimes I shake it and yell at it just to be sure…)

Spirit renewal can be a little painful on occasion, but we always have the full attention of Jesus.

And you don’t have even have to wait for that ❤

Prayer

Father God, Make me more aware of your directional signs and give me the guidance to follow them. I’m so fidgety right now. As you  know, waiting is not my strong suit. You know how badly I just want to get this SHOW ON THE ROAD already, but I trust that your plans are exceedingly and abundantly superior to mine. Please just sit in the lobby with me, holding my hand. I do so love you, Jesus.

 

A Tiny Little Cabin and a Lot of Thinking

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By: Jana Greene

I love camping.

And by ‘camping,’ I mean staying in an air-conditioned cabin in the woods that has gas logs in the fireplace, and a hot tub on the back porch that faces a little creek.

It is My Beloved and I’s 10th wedding anniversary, so we decided to retreat to one of our favorite places in the world – a tiny little cabin in the woods with lots of creature comforts.

There are creature comforts at home, of course. We also have a ton of standard-fare life issues at home. We all do. We have bills, home and car repairs, kids, grandkids, doctor appointments, three high maintenance cats, and routines.

Routines can harken comfort. They can also become a distraction.

This week with my husband is a re-boot from all the distraction. We can be us, and focus on who we are to each other. We can be reminded that not everything is falling, as so often seems the case these days.

The new normal seems to be trying to keep up with the new normal. Things change and morph and so do we.

In these North Carolina mountains, Autumn is amping up before our eyes. I swear the leaves have gone plum technicolor in the mere two days we have been here so far. It’s exciting to watch the reds and yellows. The purples and oranges. It looks like the whole world is on fire with vibrancy, getting ready for the big crescendo! But even as the trees explode in living color, other leaves are falling, littering the wet ground with dull, brown peat.

It has to happen when winter comes. The trees must become bare, lest there be no spring buds gestating in the seemingly frozen branches. Things must fall so that things can spring up anew. And things must spring up anew so that the trees can be full again and, in turn, become technicolor with the reds and yellows, the purples and oranges.

What could have me feeling so cornball about this crazy life, and waxing poetic about autumn leaves?

Nature. Nature does it to me every time.

For a girl who loves her a/c and hot tubs, I do so adore nature.

My beloved and I needed badly to get away to the smoky, rolling hills of North Carolina and reflect on the best – and most challenging – 10 years of our lives. There were times when we weren’t sure we’d come out alive – blending a family of three teenage girls, dealing with debilitating health issues, living out “for richer or for poorer.”

But we come out alive and even manage to thrive, because the same Creator who orchestrates the seasons also orchestrates our marriage. We insisted that He did so, right out of the gate.

So, I’m writing this blog post from a little cabin in the woods. There are still issues waiting for us when we go back home, but right now, the gas logs in the fireplace are roaring, I am sipping sparkly apple cider, and My Beloved sits next to me leisurely reading a James Patterson novel. We are an old married couple now.

I LOVE it.

I love disconnecting from the routines, even if for a few days.

I love this man whom with I am celebrating ten years of wedded bliss. I love that we are so predictable that we finish each other’s sentences.

Nature reminds me that everything about God’s creation has a purpose and an inevitable rebirth. Nature has a way of  refreshing the weary spirit.

It reminds me why people name their children after flowers.

As I listen to the ripple of the creek down below, I am reminded why there are hymns written about deer panting after water.

It reminds me that paying bills can be usurped by paying attention to the glory of an Autumn forest.

It reminds me that earth has a smell and that leaf litter is preferable to kitty litter.

It reminds me that the drudgery of life can be put in its proper place with a strategic plan for a second honeymoon away from it all.

It reminds me that things fall, but there is purpose in the falling.

And as my husband absently reaches for my hand as we sit on the front porch swing together saying nothing but communicating everything, I’m so grateful.

God bless us, every one.

 

 

Filling in the Cracks with Trust

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As I wrestle with many changes in this time, I’ve been posting pieces to invite you along the journey. The good, the bad, the ugly. All of it.  I believe the late, great George Carlin refereed to such drivel as ‘brain droppings,’ and as crude as it sounds, that is a pretty accurate assessment of the life and work of a blogger in cyberspace. So follow the trail, and maybe we will learn from each other along the way. I strongly invite you to leave comments and / or share your personal experiences, as you feel comfortable. And as always, thank you for your readership. ❤

By: Jana Greene

“How do you love an invisible God?”

The question hung in the air at the Celebrate Recovery meeting I was leading in 2012. A woman who was struggling to stay clean from the soul-sucking heroin asked me after the meeting (or, as we say in the Rooms, ‘the meeting after the meeting.’)

It was a very good question; and one so primal, it threw me. God was an old friend of mine. I thought I had spiritually evolved past that question. But in times of deep duress, I’ve found it to be a legitimate inquisition.

The answer I’ve found? You love each other. Any place there is love, be it by squeaky-clean Christian or ‘heathen’ who has never uttered the name of the Lord, there is God.

There you go. That’s how you get to know and love the ‘invisible’ God. TA DA!

It’s just that easy! Except for sometimes, it isn’t. Shifting all of our focus onto worry, can make him seem less visible; less tangible.

And like any relationship, the more time you spend seeking the face of God, the more intimate the relationship becomes – and the more full his reality reveals itself.

I used to think that the only love that counted for Team God was that fostered under the umbrella of a corporate, official, Jesus-brand ministry with a Bible to beat people up with (or worse, cause call to shun them) and a Federal tax ID number.

But that simply isn’t so.

It’s hard to dis-believe in someone you know personally, so that is not my struggle so much these days.

But I do have other struggles, and maybe you do too. Maybe you are worried about your future as well. Maybe every decision you make feels like filling out a voting card that is missing several candidate choices.

So today’s post is about TRUST.

Is God in charge of the future, or are we just scraping by like the children in Lord of the Flies, trying to carve out survival while our God watches the wretched, gladiator-style event?

Because I cannot believe he is love, and believe he created us to watch us implode.

It’s easier to love an invisible God, whose love physically manifests in nature and through his people, than it is to make peace with the unknown. And right now – above all else – my struggle is with having no idea what is coming next. Which, of course, is a struggle with TRUSTING God.

So, I’ve been a Christian most of my life, yet still – in times like these – wrangle with trusting him when every shred of physical evidence points to certain doom.

He is not the god of Certain Doom. He is the God of orchestration, working behind the scenes to arrange things for our own good. I’ve seen it play out 1,000 times. Why do I still struggle with trusting completely in uncertain seasons of life?

There is grace for the blessed seasons – written clearly to us and in bold font, and in Sharpie. We see it. It spills off the page and stains our fingers so that we can rub it off on an unbelieving world.

But there is also grace for seasons of struggle – in seemingly invisible ink. Even when we hold it up to the light, we cannot see it written. We cannot decipher it even when we do get a glimpse. It reveals itself in due time, but while we wait, we are flummoxed.

As the Apostle Paul wrote, “I believe. Help me in my unbelief,” I implore: “I trust you, God. Help me in my distrust.

And God bless us, every single one.

God, help me to keep seeking your face. Thank you for your endless mercy, spilled off the page and into my heart. Thank you for making your love so easy to find. Lord, my fears are primal, and I cannot face them without trusting you. Hook a sister up with an extra measure of faith. And God? Thanks in advance.

Cruelty – the Worst Disability of All

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By: Jana Greene

Hi, Readers.

I was all set out to write a pithy little piece in tribute to the Great Shel Silverstein, if for no other reason that he taught me to love words and even sometimes love the WORLD, janky as it may be. It was a little ‘wherever you go, there you are’ piece, except my keyboard jammed, taking me to a magical, mystery land of four-letter words and sucked the whimsicalness right out of me visa my aft end, and then -right that minute – I got a brrrrrring notice from my iPhone alerting me that someone very special to my life was possibly having an existential crisis right that very moment, so heads-up. In her text was a lovely family reunion picture, my friend’s hand rested on her little baby bunp (the child they’d prayed and hoped for and long awaited. My dear friend has survived a LOT of bullshit in her young life and has come out with faith intact (miraculously) and I am so stinking proud of her. She has battled and overcome Anorexia and a host of other chronic, debilitating maladies – things that would make a lesser woman (me) not even want to get out of bed in the morning. AND she takes awesome care of her hubby and service dog, and loves on EVERYONE, working hard for those facing even more difficulties than her own. She is my hero.

So after I enjoyed the lovely picture for a minute or two, I scrolled down to read what someone had posted in response to the picture. Presumably someone else in the picture.

It said, “Well, stop faking your fake disability and keep your fingers out of your throat.”

And then I stopped to read it again because SURELY NOT.

Surely there are not people who are Lex Luthor/ Bob Cratchet/Lucifer/Any and all evil parts in movies played by Jack Nicholson/Wicked Witch of the West/Scarface/Hannibal Lechter  HYBRID of villains.

But there it was, for God and all creation to see.

“Well, stop faking your fake disability and keep your fingers out of your throat.”

More hurtful words I cannot imagine coming out of the mouth of a demon. I know God loves this nasty person and loves her dearly. I, on the other hand, think she’s a real asshole. Hey, I’m working on it, but I ain’t yet arrived, as we say in the South.

And to my sweet, brave, amazing, mama-to-be friend? You have always always brought to mind the song by “Nice & Wild” – Diamond Girl. It was written long (long, long) before you were born, but you’ve always made me think of it.  Youtube it, or download it, or do whatever you young people do these days to listen to music, but just take a listen.

Shine on, Diamond girl. You sure do shine. Kick off them haters – don’t pay them no mind.

(That last line is compliments of yours truly, but I think Shel Silverstein would approve.)

I love you.

 

 

 

Settling the Cosmos – Calling out Hopelessness

Hi, dear Readers.

The past few weeks has been WOW. And not “WOW! SO GREAT!” either.

Just wow.  It’s superfluously wacky, this life season.I wonder if Mars got out alignment with Venus, or Pluto is pouting  for being excommunicated, or the stars are staging a great rebellion.

I used to believe in astrology many, many years ago. I still get my direction from the Heavenlies – just not the heavenly bodies.

It’s tempting to seek out what God seems reticent to tell us in tangible, chart-able ways.

But it isn’t he fault in our stars or the heavy hand of Karma trying to set us straight. The less-glamorous truth is that a lot of crap happens, and keeps happening. It’s so largely out of control, it makes you wonder if anyone is supervising this planet, which seems to be spiraling into a Lord of then Flies level madness.

The truth is often, before our stars ‘align,’ we have to somehow make it through this experience, hurling through the chaotic cosmos sight-unseen (and violently so, on occasion.)

Several things have happened in my life lately – all of them emotionally loaded – in a short span of time, and an old, sickening vibe in my stomach resonates a foreboding  sense of doom.

Ah, I remember you, you dirty rat. You’re Hopelessness. Don’t even THINK about getting settled in here. I’ve renovated the space you used to rent, I think you will find it most uncomfortable. I’ll chase you out a million times if need be, and bring  the Landlord with me. Go on, now, GIT!

Hopelessness is, excuse the expression, an attention monster.  It thrives where it is welcome. It grows where you allow it to feed.  I know all of its favorite foods! Self-pity, alienation, wallowing.  I am currently trying to starve my old nemesis, but like the monster in the movie” Alien” that also resided in the pit of a stomach,  it’s not leaving neatly and politely.

You have to knock Hopelessness on its keister; it won’t go willingly.

Don’t despair,  my friends, and I’ll try not to despair too. God is here for us.

Take despair breaks to practice self-care…the two cannot inhabit the same space for long.

What soothes your raw and ragged soul? Are you denying it’s cry for attention? Are you being 100 % real with God about how you are feeling? Tell Him. Yell it if you need to. It’s okay to do so.

Does nature soothe your soul? Or music?

Go for the car ride and blast your music with the windows down.

Eat the chocolate and/or cheese.

Call your friends, the ones who ‘get’ you.

Take the nap.

Go to the meeting.

Hug someone you love for five minutes solid.

Talk to the God.

You won’t get empty platitudes here at The Beggar’s Bakery about how when God closes a door, he opens a window. I always hated that saying. What does hat even mean? It’s Hell in the hallway!

But soon – and very soon – in God’s perfect timing, there comes a shift. There always is. Eventually, crappy things will un-happen, and some really good stuff will happen that will make you forget all about hurdling though the vortex.

Things like belly laughs, birthday cake, time with friends, sand between our toes, hugs, family, romance, raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens…

Those really good things include participating in life so that we can look forward to the future with hope.

If you are struggling today, I get it.

Remind yourself that its not an endless black hole;  just a black moment. I’ll remind myself, too.

We are not unsupervised, as it may feel,  but always carry the Navigator with us. This by no means minimizes the crap-storm of challenges you are experiencing right now. Sometimes things just suck.

But Heavenly Papa is with you. You’re not alone.

This too – whatever this is – shall pass to make room for the belly laughs and happy experiences yet to come.

I’m not preaching to you, but at myself! Hang on tight and so will I.

God bless us, every one.

 

The Good Natured Father (Part I)

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Good day, Dear Readers.

Today I would like to share Part I of an article I recently wrote for seminary class. 

I will post Part II – the second half – tomorrow.

As always, I welcome comments and conversations, and shares if you so choose 🙂

God bless us, every one!

 

By: Jana Greene

“What is your most dominant image of God? What does that say about your own belief system? Your own temperament? Your own faith community?” ― Bradley Jersak, A More Christ like God: a  More Beautiful Gospel

I’ve been having a wee bit of an identity crisis over the past several years. Nothing too wild and reckless, but a low-grade churning in my spirit. This identity crisis burbled up from the primordial ooze I’d always been so careful not to fall into. Step on the stones, only on the stones. Jesus is your rock, etc. and so on, more stone / rock / foundation analogies; anything to keep from falling into the ooze, because if I fall off a rock and into the ooze, God is really going to be angry with me for taking my eyes off of the Prize – Him.

But what about Him?

Never before had I been compelled to systematically dismantle (oh how Religion loves things done systematically) all I had learned from birth, but now? Now I am forming a brand new construct out of what crumbled down in the destruct, and it changes everything.

This nature of God.

When considering the nature of the Almighty, I have the tendency to cling to one of two hard-line descriptions:

God is Love incarnate. He is full of mercy, overflowing with grace. There is only GOOD in His being, and wants to captivate us with his adoration.

Or….

God often has to punish and crush, as a means to the end of making man righteous. He smiles on us when we remind him of Jesus (maybe once or twice a day) but is filled with grief and fury when we remind him of the very humans he created. He gives us a whoopin’ because He loves us, and it really does hurt Him more than it does us, as parents are apt to say.  He gets tired, you know, with so many naughty children to keep in line. This would explain why natural phenomenon can be so destructive. This would explain the grumpiness of the Old Testament Lord. We like to think it explains a bible-ed up version of Karma. You’ve got whatever’s coming your way, buddy. Too bad you didn’t tow the line.

Except here’s the rub: God’s nature is scandalously lousy with Grace. And I so enjoyed learning about His true nature in my education at Global Grace Seminary.

Of all the excellent materials, Steve McVey’s way with words pierced me. I would read his work and stop to ponder it, and read it again. There was so many practical presentations of grace, I found myself re-reading each line in order to soak in the truth.

“You have been set in the place of a child who is loved and accepted by the Father just as surely as Jesus Himself knows that love and acceptance. Your place is in the triune circle dance is as safe and secure as the place of Jesus for the staggering reason that you are in Him.”

― Steve McVey, Beyond an Angry God: You Can’t Imagine How Much He Loves You

As Kay Fairchild explored in the module “Our God is One,” not only is there One True God, but He is three-fold – each facet of his Being sentient and in perfect, permanent synchronization. Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Three distinct individual entities, each one supreme and whole, and wholly loving.

I am learning truths that explore scripture in context. In all honesty, one of my biggest challenges is that small, still voice saying, “Yes, but why then is there still so much evil in the world?” I wish I had a better understanding of that fundamental question. I am trusting that God will reveal truths ever more as I chug along. If we ask Him for bread, He will not give us a stone; that much I know.

For thousands of years, humankind has tried to explain God. We’ve placed Him in boxes to keep Him out of (or in) trouble. We’ve elaborated on his life story and we’ve left the context of his Word out far too often. The Word is a person, and that person is Jesus.

When considering this, I’m reminded of the fun house mirrors that appear to be endless images – mirror inside another mirror, inside another – an endless tunnel of reflection. There is so much more depth in the Trinity than I’d ever considered. The Triune God layer upon layer of Love, grace, and inclusion. And we are the very mirror image of those three beings of love! We sell ourselves so short.

Will the real Nature of God Please Stand Up?

With nearly 17 years of recovery time from alcoholism, I’ve come to love the legendary 12 Steps.  Before I happened across the Christ-based recovery step meetings I attend now, AA was the initial safe zone to explore the nature of God as His grace pertains to sobriety.  The program’s third step proclaims that “we made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood him.” In this model, you hire and employ your own Higher Power. It could be a floor lamp. Or a door knob. Anything, really. And that deeply offended me! You cannot just go making up gods as your puny mind perceives them, all willy-nilly.

Now I so clearly see that I was so grace-less. So self-righteous. Anything less than recognizing the One True God – my Jesus – was blasphemy. What I didn’t understand was that these folks didn’t want to hear that they were going to hell, because they’d already been. And the “God of our understanding” is a great place to begin the Seeker journey. I sat in the meetings with angry arms folded, shut down and petulant. What a way to represent Christ!

“If you have seen your God through the lens of legalistic religion, you most likely have believed that God was warning them [Adam and Eve] that He would punish them if they ate from the tree. Nothing could be further from the heart or intent of God. He wouldn’t kill them – sin would kill them. God wasn’t warning them about what He would do but about what sin would do to them.”

― Steve McVey, Beyond an Angry God: You Can’t Imagine How Much He Loves You

What if God’s nature is really only good?

Part II to be published Sunday, June 25th

Prayers for the Snake Guy

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By: Jana Greene

Four months into seminary (or, as I like to call it snarkily ‘Holy Roller School,’ after an acquaintance referred to it as such) and I am starting to see things in a whole new light. I hope more and more light seeps in and around me, as I continue on this trepidation journey to fire my old god and fully embrace the God of Love. Accepting pure love is harder than you’d think.

Today our community lost a local celebrity – and venomous snake aficionado – to a domestic violence incident. The man was missing fingers from messing with the most dangerous snakes in the world, and yet he died from a gunshot, presumably fired by his wife.

If you met him, you’d never forget him. He was so un-vanilla; a very colorful character.

As these things go, my little web of Facebook friends started posting the in-credulousness of his death,  and before you know it, information is spreading like wildfire.

The murder happened in a little apartment over the Cape Fear Serpentarium – owned and operated by the victim. So the first hints of what had happened were…

I wonder if it was the snake guy?

The serpent dude is dead!

Half of the street has blocked off around the serpentarium!

Speculation runs amok. Did his wife shoot him in self defense? Where was his toddler at the time of the shooting? All kinds of scenarios play out in an epic display of what the great George Carlin often referred to as ‘brain droppings” – thoughts that used to clang around in our skulls and peter out are now open fodder for theorists – conspiracy or otherwise. Butcher, baker, candlestick maker…everyone has a platform in the interwebs, myself included. Within a page of feed, he was either a wife-beating monster or a national treasure, victimized by his spouse. In reality, nobody knows exactly what happened at this juncture.

I have felt convicted of the ‘Proper Prayer Reproach” lately. It goes something like this:

I need the facts to pray. What if he was a vile monster who provoked his wife to violence? As a Christian, I should hope he is in ‘hell’ facing eternity skinny dipping in a lake of fire! Right?

But what if he was just a little quirky – a genius with serpents but not so much marriages? Then we should pray that he is standing at the Pearly Gates.

Who gets top billing in this prayer thing?

When did Christians – of ALL people – earn the right to cherry pick who is deserving of what fate? What if we ‘accidentally’ pray a blessing on someone who is guilty? God forbid.

Sometimes, we use Proper Prayer Reproach as a way to gossip, as in “I need more information on Suzie Q. so that I can pray for her better….”

Other times, it’s even a little malevolent – manipulation sandwiched between two slices of self-righteousness. “Lord,  do your Karma thing because so-and-so really deserves it.”

I can assure you as a Holy Roller student, God is the only judge of who deserves what. And that no matter who/what/when/where there is a need for prayer, Jesus gets top billing. When we think we have to know who the Bad Guy is in order to pray, we are making the praying all about ourselves, our power.

I’m learning this as I go. Parts of me really want to get all the facts on a given situation so that I can ‘pray properly.’ But prayer can’t – and shouldn’t – wait. And we will never in a million years have an understanding of every nuance and action that all parties involved have experienced.

So here is my prayer for the gentleman and his family. I ask that you join me in prayer – whatever that looks like to you.

Jesus.

I pray for the deceased, that he is at your feet right now as we speak, and that his heart is whole and his spirit at peace. I don’t know if he knew you in life, but you’ve known him before he was in his mother’s womb. I pray he recognizes your face as the countenance of an old friend. I pray that you welcome him.

I also don’t know what his wife believed, and right now she needs you more than ever. She may not even believe in you, but you believed in her since before time. Tonight she is in a cell, likely terrified and shattered. Sit on the jailhouse bench with her, so close that she knows you are tangible. Pour your love out on her.

Jesus, there is a three year old child whose whole life as he knew it was changed forever today. He is an innocent victim, an instant orphan. He is perfectly adorable – when I saw this little boy’s picture, I immediately thought, ‘this must be how Papa sees his kids,’ mischievous twinkle in his eye and cherubic smile. Oh, sweet Jesus. Wrap your arms around that child and minister to his little spirit in a powerful way. I don’t know anything about him, but I know you desire him to grow up and walk alongside you. That’s what good Papas want for their little ones.

I don’t need the facts to ask God to intercede. Prayer is urgent! It brings God into the darkness, banishing it. Lord, help me to see more light.

That’s seminary progress, from a lifetime student of the Proper Prayer Reproach.

Jesus. Jesus. Jesus.

Comfort. Move. Surround. Inhabit. Assure. Draw near.

LOVE.

Save