The theme of this whole blog is trying to find inspiration in the not-so-obvious places, and this morning provided a serious challenge to that theme:
Some friends got rolled last night (toilet-papered). Not just any friends, mind you: the Kaylors. You know who I'm talking about? The ones who lost their mom/wife to cancer back in October? The ones who've been keeping together a very inspirational journal about getting their lives back together, which is linked here? And they get rolled last night! How could someone, ANYONE, do this knowing what this family has been through in the last few months? Doesn't this guy have enough to take care of without having to clean up his front yard? (That's been taken care of, BTW, for the most part) How do you explain this to his young children? Haven't they been exposed to enough hurt lately? This is not only wrong, it's just SICK!
I say this next part not to pat myself on the back, so if it comes across as self-congratulating, I apologize now.
I was so moved by this I grabbed a rake and a trash bag, went over and offered to clean it up. The look on the dad's face indicated his surprise at what had happened; saying his face fell doesn't do it justice. The hurt in his eyes..... what kind of sick person does this to someone still trying to get the lives of him and his children back together? Even the girls were kinda surprised by what they saw; I'm not sure they knew what to make of toilet paper in the trees.
Thankfully, I had plenty of time before work and was able to get most of it down. What prompted me to do this in the first place was anger and indignation at first; as I worked, it was as if the Lord asked me a question: "Haven't you figured out yet that I make everything work out for my glory?" In other words, yes this bad thing happened, but the result was that an opportunity opened up for someone to minister to these folks by offering to clean up for them. (Proverbs says this somewhere: Do good for others, especially if you have the opportunity to do so.)
St. Paul says we're supposed to rejoice in our trials and tribulations. Nice in theory; I've yet to put it into practice. That would've been an awkward front-door greeting: "Look what happened to you! Isn't this great? Come on, let's rejoice in this trial!" Pray that God takes away the hurt in the hearts of my friends, because I can only take care of the front yard. So, even though I'm thankful for the opportunity to minister this morning, and even realizing that there is evil in the world and nothing you or I or anyone not named Jesus Christ can do about it, there's that horrible sin of unresolved anger still floating around in me, as you can probably tell by the first couple of paragraphs. I'm still steamed about it.
God give me the strength to forgive, and even more strength to get over not knowing who it is to forgive. Sometimes I think Satan's greatest trick is to cause us/me to focus on the negative side of this instead of the positive. Focus on who did this, how can I find out who did it, and what I'm going to do if I ever find out. I'll waste more time in a day concentrating on that then anything else constructive, ministry or otherwise.
Unfortunately, at this moment, it's working, hence the title of today's post. God, please give me strength to see how You will bring good out of this. If it's none of my business, I can deal with that; but could you please at least remove this anger from my heart?
In Him and around the corner (and resisting the urge to go out tonight armed with toilet paper, eggs, Fruity Pebbles, silly string, and bleach),
Al
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Moons for Christ!
This is the post that never ends, it just goes on and on my friends.....
My friend Gaylene wrote this on her blog tonight while musing about Matthew 2:10 (check it out: http://greetingsfromaustinstreet.blogspot.com)
"We are the people who walk in darkness and the great light is out there for all of us to see. God offers His light, His son, Jesus, to us so that we never have to walk in darkness. "
At the same time, that Light should be shining through us. I'm not telling you anything you don't already know that the only reason we can see the Moon is because of the sun's light reflecting off its surface. (If you didn't know that, pause here, and do one of the following: call your fourth-grade science teacher, apologize for not paying attention during the whole "moon" discussion, and could she explain that part again? OR, you can Google "How the Moon shines." You should find all kinds of pages explaining how the moon shines. I'll skip the jokes about alcohol recipes. For now!)
ANYway, when you see me, do you see the Light? Now, obviously, I'm not THE Light. (I'm barely a dim bulb!) But when you see people who call themselves Christians (myself included), is the Light reflecting off them/us/me? If you can't see the Light in/through me, then no words I say or type here will convince you that I'm as Christian as I like to think I am. Same goes for anyone who calls themselves a Christian, no matter the denomination.
And it's as simple as literally flicking on a light-switch! Love one another. Help those in need. Speak kindly as often as possible. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you (thanks, Mom!). Why is that so difficult?
In the Lutheran church (or at least among us ELCA types), when someone is baptized, the pastor says to the baptized, "Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good works and bring glory to God in Heaven." If we call ourselves Christians, we have an obligation to others to make sure that the Light is radiating off of us just like sunlight radiates off the moon. We are not THE Light, but we can see The Light, and He can see us. Therefore, we should be radiating that Light to others, to keep them from the darkness and in the Light.* (Do you want to reflect the Light like the moon reflects its light? Then make sure you're revolving around the Son! HA! I kill me! HEY: put down that gun!)
(*Offering another 100 points to whoever guesses the group from which THAT little reference came! See if I can stump that guy THIS time!)
I'll close with a song that's been running thru my head while typing this. (Credit where credit is due: I cut and pasted the following from http://www.theinterpretersfriend.com/songs/brng-4th-e-kngdm.html. Since I play the bass in our church band, and because I'm lousy at singing and playing at the same time, I choose to play and worry about the words later, which half the time I'm only barely paying attention to anyway):
You are a light on the hill, O people,
light for the city of God!
Shine so holy and bright, O people:
shine for the kingdom of God!
Refrain:
Bring forth the kingdom of mercy,
bring forth the kingdom of peace.
Bring forth the kingdom of justice,
bring forth the city of God!
To paraphrase a favorite group of mine, "Come on you seekers, you searchers and faithful and SHINE!" (No points for that one)
In Him and around the corner (and all over the map, wishing that I had a coherency-checker in addition to my spell-checker),
Al
My friend Gaylene wrote this on her blog tonight while musing about Matthew 2:10 (check it out: http://greetingsfromaustinstreet.blogspot.com)
"We are the people who walk in darkness and the great light is out there for all of us to see. God offers His light, His son, Jesus, to us so that we never have to walk in darkness. "
At the same time, that Light should be shining through us. I'm not telling you anything you don't already know that the only reason we can see the Moon is because of the sun's light reflecting off its surface. (If you didn't know that, pause here, and do one of the following: call your fourth-grade science teacher, apologize for not paying attention during the whole "moon" discussion, and could she explain that part again? OR, you can Google "How the Moon shines." You should find all kinds of pages explaining how the moon shines. I'll skip the jokes about alcohol recipes. For now!)
ANYway, when you see me, do you see the Light? Now, obviously, I'm not THE Light. (I'm barely a dim bulb!) But when you see people who call themselves Christians (myself included), is the Light reflecting off them/us/me? If you can't see the Light in/through me, then no words I say or type here will convince you that I'm as Christian as I like to think I am. Same goes for anyone who calls themselves a Christian, no matter the denomination.
And it's as simple as literally flicking on a light-switch! Love one another. Help those in need. Speak kindly as often as possible. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you (thanks, Mom!). Why is that so difficult?
In the Lutheran church (or at least among us ELCA types), when someone is baptized, the pastor says to the baptized, "Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good works and bring glory to God in Heaven." If we call ourselves Christians, we have an obligation to others to make sure that the Light is radiating off of us just like sunlight radiates off the moon. We are not THE Light, but we can see The Light, and He can see us. Therefore, we should be radiating that Light to others, to keep them from the darkness and in the Light.* (Do you want to reflect the Light like the moon reflects its light? Then make sure you're revolving around the Son! HA! I kill me! HEY: put down that gun!)
(*Offering another 100 points to whoever guesses the group from which THAT little reference came! See if I can stump that guy THIS time!)
I'll close with a song that's been running thru my head while typing this. (Credit where credit is due: I cut and pasted the following from http://www.theinterpretersfriend.com/songs/brng-4th-e-kngdm.html. Since I play the bass in our church band, and because I'm lousy at singing and playing at the same time, I choose to play and worry about the words later, which half the time I'm only barely paying attention to anyway):
You are a light on the hill, O people,
light for the city of God!
Shine so holy and bright, O people:
shine for the kingdom of God!
Refrain:
Bring forth the kingdom of mercy,
bring forth the kingdom of peace.
Bring forth the kingdom of justice,
bring forth the city of God!
To paraphrase a favorite group of mine, "Come on you seekers, you searchers and faithful and SHINE!" (No points for that one)
In Him and around the corner (and all over the map, wishing that I had a coherency-checker in addition to my spell-checker),
Al
Monday, December 29, 2008
More musings on prayer....
This morning, I laid in bed praying for guidance, strength, and wisdom. Guidance to keep me focused at work because end-of-year is coming up, inventory needs to be counted, books need to be closed; strength to resist the temptation to let myself get distracted by the internet and the desire to go to Half Price Books on my lunch hour when I had other, more pressing things that needed to get done (pay bills, return phone calls, etc); and wisdom to make the right decisions all day today.
The bills didn't get paid. Half Price Books has some more of my money (and I have a few more records). Hardly any work got done.
Did God not hear me?
Of course He did.
The problem was I knew in advance I wasn't really serious about what I was praying for. The sad thing is, God is standing right in front of me, saying "Take my hand and let me guide you." And I say, "Thanks, but my way looks a lot more fun."
It's like sinking in quicksand. Someone offers me a rope to grab to pull me out. But I don't feel so deep yet that I can't get myself out. Except that now I am deep in it. The rope is still there, and I'm just stubborn enough not to grab it. The bad thing is, the further I sink, the harder it will be for me if I ever decide to let God pull me out. It's not that He can't do it; He just won't until I finally hold my hand up! The biggest obstacle to God helping me is..... me. How presumptuous of me to expect God to grab me and pull me out if I won't do my part!
Again, too many people claim that prayer doesn't work because God doesn't pass their test. I'm here to tell you right now: God doesn't have time for games. If you're praying, be serious, or don't even bother. This is what I need to learn. Am I really serious when asking for God's help? Or am I just mouthing words?
Once again, I've written myself into another circle and don't know how to properly end this, so I'll just say, keep praying. That's as much for me as anyone else reading this. Not because I think I'll get through to God, but because at some point I hope to learn how to let God in.
Please keep the following in your prayers: continued prayers for the Kaylor family (check his blog for updates on them); prayers for a family at my church who were involved in a pretty serious auto accident (I have no details, so just pray that it isn't as serious as I heard); I know there are others, but these are the ones immediately springing to mind.
In Him and around the corner (and leaving a Light on),
Al
The bills didn't get paid. Half Price Books has some more of my money (and I have a few more records). Hardly any work got done.
Did God not hear me?
Of course He did.
The problem was I knew in advance I wasn't really serious about what I was praying for. The sad thing is, God is standing right in front of me, saying "Take my hand and let me guide you." And I say, "Thanks, but my way looks a lot more fun."
It's like sinking in quicksand. Someone offers me a rope to grab to pull me out. But I don't feel so deep yet that I can't get myself out. Except that now I am deep in it. The rope is still there, and I'm just stubborn enough not to grab it. The bad thing is, the further I sink, the harder it will be for me if I ever decide to let God pull me out. It's not that He can't do it; He just won't until I finally hold my hand up! The biggest obstacle to God helping me is..... me. How presumptuous of me to expect God to grab me and pull me out if I won't do my part!
Again, too many people claim that prayer doesn't work because God doesn't pass their test. I'm here to tell you right now: God doesn't have time for games. If you're praying, be serious, or don't even bother. This is what I need to learn. Am I really serious when asking for God's help? Or am I just mouthing words?
Once again, I've written myself into another circle and don't know how to properly end this, so I'll just say, keep praying. That's as much for me as anyone else reading this. Not because I think I'll get through to God, but because at some point I hope to learn how to let God in.
Please keep the following in your prayers: continued prayers for the Kaylor family (check his blog for updates on them); prayers for a family at my church who were involved in a pretty serious auto accident (I have no details, so just pray that it isn't as serious as I heard); I know there are others, but these are the ones immediately springing to mind.
In Him and around the corner (and leaving a Light on),
Al
Saturday, December 27, 2008
As long as the children are laughing....
Is there any sound more heart-warming than the sound of a child's laughter?
God has blessed me with the gift of making children laugh, and it is probably the most cherished talent He has given me. Nothing brightens my day like hearing the laughter of children, of any age. Our next-door neighbors have a 16-month-old, and when he starts laughing, sometimes there's no stopping him. When he laughs, his whole body laughs with him! I had a chance to visit with another neighbor the other night who has three daughters: one in junior-high, one in 1st grade, and one in kindergarten. While visiting, the 1st-grader was sitting with her dad and the youngest one was carrying around a blanket which she started flapping around. I looked at her and said, in as SERIOUS (haha) voice I could muster, "And you BETTER not touch me with that blanket." Of course, all pandemonium broke loose as I was attacked by the blanket, and both girls were laughing heartily. Later, their dad told me that it had been a while since his girls had laughed that hard! I can't help myself: it's like watching a snowball roll down a hill. Once I get a child laughing at me, it's so enjoyable to keep them giggling with delight!
Almost cathartic, actually. One of my favorite of all of Jesus' teachings is Matthew 18:1-4: "At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, "Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?" He called a little child and had him stand among them. And he said: "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven."
Look at the children: all this week, the only thing on the minds of most (especially our own) was Christmas! How about you? I don't know about y'all, but my heart was cluttered with all sorts of non-Christmas things like work, shopping, schedules, the latest from the Valley Ranch Soap Opera....
It just seems to me that if we really want to appreciate the Advent season, Christmas day, and the rest of the holidays, we need to approach it the same way the children do: with eyes and hearts wide open. Much like the children approached Jesus back then, y'know? The Bible doesn't elaborate on this, but I always imagine children enjoyed being around Jesus, and He with them. In them, He saw hope, unspoiled enthusiasm, carefree spirits, loving hearts... all the things some of us grown-ups lost along the way. If you didn't, congratulations and please tell me how you did it. As for the rest of us, I guess all we need to do is simply go to Him the way the children did: enthusiastically, ready for His call, and hopefully with a smile on our faces.
I hope y'alls Christmas was wonderful. Please keep in your prayers all those for whom there is one less person at the table tonight. Pray that the Lord comforts their hearts this season.
In Him and around the corner (and geeking out over the various gadgets I got for Christmas!), Al
God has blessed me with the gift of making children laugh, and it is probably the most cherished talent He has given me. Nothing brightens my day like hearing the laughter of children, of any age. Our next-door neighbors have a 16-month-old, and when he starts laughing, sometimes there's no stopping him. When he laughs, his whole body laughs with him! I had a chance to visit with another neighbor the other night who has three daughters: one in junior-high, one in 1st grade, and one in kindergarten. While visiting, the 1st-grader was sitting with her dad and the youngest one was carrying around a blanket which she started flapping around. I looked at her and said, in as SERIOUS (haha) voice I could muster, "And you BETTER not touch me with that blanket." Of course, all pandemonium broke loose as I was attacked by the blanket, and both girls were laughing heartily. Later, their dad told me that it had been a while since his girls had laughed that hard! I can't help myself: it's like watching a snowball roll down a hill. Once I get a child laughing at me, it's so enjoyable to keep them giggling with delight!
Almost cathartic, actually. One of my favorite of all of Jesus' teachings is Matthew 18:1-4: "At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, "Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?" He called a little child and had him stand among them. And he said: "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven."
Look at the children: all this week, the only thing on the minds of most (especially our own) was Christmas! How about you? I don't know about y'all, but my heart was cluttered with all sorts of non-Christmas things like work, shopping, schedules, the latest from the Valley Ranch Soap Opera....
It just seems to me that if we really want to appreciate the Advent season, Christmas day, and the rest of the holidays, we need to approach it the same way the children do: with eyes and hearts wide open. Much like the children approached Jesus back then, y'know? The Bible doesn't elaborate on this, but I always imagine children enjoyed being around Jesus, and He with them. In them, He saw hope, unspoiled enthusiasm, carefree spirits, loving hearts... all the things some of us grown-ups lost along the way. If you didn't, congratulations and please tell me how you did it. As for the rest of us, I guess all we need to do is simply go to Him the way the children did: enthusiastically, ready for His call, and hopefully with a smile on our faces.
I hope y'alls Christmas was wonderful. Please keep in your prayers all those for whom there is one less person at the table tonight. Pray that the Lord comforts their hearts this season.
In Him and around the corner (and geeking out over the various gadgets I got for Christmas!), Al
Monday, December 15, 2008
Are you going to let all this beauty go to waste?
(Ten points if you can guess the Christmas special from which the title is stolen!)
Baby, it's cold outside.
Yesterday, we were wearing shorts.
Welcome to Texas!
When the weather gets this warm in December around here, it doesn't look or feel very Christmas-y. Christmas decorations look as though they've been hanging on houses for months because it feels more like May than December. Hearing Christmas music when it's this warm outside feels out-of-place; shouldn't the sounds of summer be playing instead? I've been dreaming of a white Christmas for the past 28 years, or since we stopped going to Chicago every year to visit Gramma at Christmas. Every year I keep hoping, and every year brings no snow. Oh well, this is Arlington after all.
Still, when it gets this warm, everything just looks the same, like any other month, like any other day.
Kinda like the scenario into which Jesus was born, I suppose.
(Really, if we wanted to be COMPLETELY literal (and silly), we should be celebrating Christmas on April 15, since it was tax-time when Mary & Joseph made the journey to Bethlehem to give birth to their little Tax Write-Off. I'm not positive the IRS existed back then, but I know they tend to be retroactive, so you can't be too careful)
This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it. My mom used to sing that to us when we were little. Drove me nuts then, but I appreciate it so much more now, especially when it's this warm and this close to Christmas. It's still beautiful outside. If I'm letting the weather dictate my Christmas mood, then I'm definitely missing something. There are times during the Christmas season, especially when I'm driving home from work, that I wonder if another humdrum day could pass with something enormous, incredible, and spectacular like the birth of Jesus, and I'd miss the beauty of the moment because I was concerned with the humdrum. That seems to be the definition of life lately: the act of focusing on the ordinary at the expense of the extraordinary. Think of all the people who missed out on the birth of Christ because it was just another day to them (and us).
Lord, open my eyes to the beauty of the day, and let not my heart be overtaken by the creeping malaise* of ordinary everyday life.
In Him and around the corner (*and awarding 100 points to anyone who knows what song those two words are from),
Al
Baby, it's cold outside.
Yesterday, we were wearing shorts.
Welcome to Texas!
When the weather gets this warm in December around here, it doesn't look or feel very Christmas-y. Christmas decorations look as though they've been hanging on houses for months because it feels more like May than December. Hearing Christmas music when it's this warm outside feels out-of-place; shouldn't the sounds of summer be playing instead? I've been dreaming of a white Christmas for the past 28 years, or since we stopped going to Chicago every year to visit Gramma at Christmas. Every year I keep hoping, and every year brings no snow. Oh well, this is Arlington after all.
Still, when it gets this warm, everything just looks the same, like any other month, like any other day.
Kinda like the scenario into which Jesus was born, I suppose.
(Really, if we wanted to be COMPLETELY literal (and silly), we should be celebrating Christmas on April 15, since it was tax-time when Mary & Joseph made the journey to Bethlehem to give birth to their little Tax Write-Off. I'm not positive the IRS existed back then, but I know they tend to be retroactive, so you can't be too careful)
This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it. My mom used to sing that to us when we were little. Drove me nuts then, but I appreciate it so much more now, especially when it's this warm and this close to Christmas. It's still beautiful outside. If I'm letting the weather dictate my Christmas mood, then I'm definitely missing something. There are times during the Christmas season, especially when I'm driving home from work, that I wonder if another humdrum day could pass with something enormous, incredible, and spectacular like the birth of Jesus, and I'd miss the beauty of the moment because I was concerned with the humdrum. That seems to be the definition of life lately: the act of focusing on the ordinary at the expense of the extraordinary. Think of all the people who missed out on the birth of Christ because it was just another day to them (and us).
Lord, open my eyes to the beauty of the day, and let not my heart be overtaken by the creeping malaise* of ordinary everyday life.
In Him and around the corner (*and awarding 100 points to anyone who knows what song those two words are from),
Al
Saturday, December 6, 2008
A look in the mirror....
I enjoy reading peoples' testimonies about how they came to Christ. In fact, a very interesting one is being told at the aforementioned Jessica Kaylor blog . But it did get me to thinking: what is it like to live without Christ? For some, it's a conscious decision; others may have been raised without ever knowing Him. Having been a Christian my whole life, I can't imagine what that's like, and I wouldn't even know where to begin.
I can't help but wonder if I take that for granted sometimes: knowing that He's always there. In other words, because I was raised Christian and have been going to church all my life, Jesus has been the one constant in my life. In one respect, I'm enormously thankful that I have Jesus in my life, and I didn't have to do anything to get Him. It's as if I've known He's been there all the time.
Still, on the other hand, I find myself letting that comfort turn into complacency, and my faith just becomes a lot of well-studied words from what I saw in the Bible. Do as I say, not necessarily as I do, & all that. In doing so, I become the kind of Christian I loathe: the talker. The Wizard of Oz. Pay no attention to that man behind the UT shirt. Just shut up, listen, and be amazed at my verbal skills and biblical knowledge.
(I'll pause here for a second, in order for you to go hurl if you need to!)
The only time I can think of that would come even remotely close to that "born again" feeling was when my family started attending Advent Lutheran Church in 1986. At the time, I was 16 and, like a lot of teenagers, looking for "God," or something like Him. My church at the time, the church I had been attending for as long as I could remember and in which I was confirmed, had rarely been a spiritually fulfilling experience, and I'd been going to church just because my folks said so. (That said, a brief aside is in order: had it not been for my mom's faith and determination, I would've stopped going to church long before I ever hit my teens. Thanks, Mom. I mean that). Then we started going to Advent, and for the first time in my life I actually wanted to go to church. For the most part, that feeling is still with me. But I know it was God who led my family to Advent.
I'm having trouble ending this, so I'll just finish with this: I'm thankful that I've never known what it's like to live without Jesus. I can't imagine I'll ever know what that feeling is like; I mean, I can't ever see a time when I would consciously turn my back on Christ. And this is not to say I am without my doubts and struggles.
Like I said, I'm having trouble ending this. Which is probably as good a metaphor for my relationship with Christ as anything. I couldn't end it even if I wanted to.
Which I don't.
But, I gotta get to bed because.... well, I have church tomorrow!
In Him and around the corner (and constantly going in circles),
Al
I can't help but wonder if I take that for granted sometimes: knowing that He's always there. In other words, because I was raised Christian and have been going to church all my life, Jesus has been the one constant in my life. In one respect, I'm enormously thankful that I have Jesus in my life, and I didn't have to do anything to get Him. It's as if I've known He's been there all the time.
Still, on the other hand, I find myself letting that comfort turn into complacency, and my faith just becomes a lot of well-studied words from what I saw in the Bible. Do as I say, not necessarily as I do, & all that. In doing so, I become the kind of Christian I loathe: the talker. The Wizard of Oz. Pay no attention to that man behind the UT shirt. Just shut up, listen, and be amazed at my verbal skills and biblical knowledge.
(I'll pause here for a second, in order for you to go hurl if you need to!)
The only time I can think of that would come even remotely close to that "born again" feeling was when my family started attending Advent Lutheran Church in 1986. At the time, I was 16 and, like a lot of teenagers, looking for "God," or something like Him. My church at the time, the church I had been attending for as long as I could remember and in which I was confirmed, had rarely been a spiritually fulfilling experience, and I'd been going to church just because my folks said so. (That said, a brief aside is in order: had it not been for my mom's faith and determination, I would've stopped going to church long before I ever hit my teens. Thanks, Mom. I mean that). Then we started going to Advent, and for the first time in my life I actually wanted to go to church. For the most part, that feeling is still with me. But I know it was God who led my family to Advent.
I'm having trouble ending this, so I'll just finish with this: I'm thankful that I've never known what it's like to live without Jesus. I can't imagine I'll ever know what that feeling is like; I mean, I can't ever see a time when I would consciously turn my back on Christ. And this is not to say I am without my doubts and struggles.
Like I said, I'm having trouble ending this. Which is probably as good a metaphor for my relationship with Christ as anything. I couldn't end it even if I wanted to.
Which I don't.
But, I gotta get to bed because.... well, I have church tomorrow!
In Him and around the corner (and constantly going in circles),
Al
Thursday, December 4, 2008
A thought about how prayer allegedly works, or Mr. Owl vs. the Cosmic Pepsi™ Machine
Why is it that when bad things happen after people pray, that the automatic response is "prayer just doesn't work?" Isn't it God's prerogative to say "no"? I always imagined getting into an argument with a Pepsi machine. Can you imagine God talking through a Pepsi machine?
"Hey, gimme a Pepsi."
"No."
"Why not?"
"That's not what you need."
"Who cares about what I need? I want a Pepsi. I put in my fifty cents, now gimme my Pepsi."
"No."
"What, did the price go up? Here, I'll put in another fifty cents. Now gimme a Pepsi."
"No."
"But I need a Pepsi!"
"No you don't, you just want a Pepsi. And I said no!"
"No, I need a Pepsi. If I don't have one, I'll have a horrible headache by day's end."
"You know that's not true. You have headaches because you're stressed out."
"So? What's with you anyway? Why can't you just gimme a Pepsi?"
"Because I know what's best for you."
"Yeah-huh. Sure you do."
"Because I know for a fact that your cholesterol level is at such a dangerous height that one more can of Pepsi buys you a ticket to the ER where the doctors will be attempting to defibrillate your heart into beating again."
"Come on, that's not gonna happen. I've been drinking Pepsi longer than I've been walking. I'll be fine. Gimme a Pepsi."
"No. Have some water instead. It'll clean out your pipes and unclog some arteries."
"Just gimme my Pepsi!"
"No. Why can't you just accept no for an answer and have something else instead?"
"You just don't work, that's what your problem is. You can't give me a Pepsi because you don't work."
"No. I won't give you a Pepsi because I don't want you dead of a heart attack at 38."
"Whatever."
By the same token, I always get uncomfortable when something good happens and it is automatically attributed to the power of prayer. Why can't we just thank God for saying "yes" to our request? By saying that prayer works, what does that say to the person who lost a loved one to cancer, despite their constant prayers for a miracle?
Don't get me wrong: we should pray always and unceasingly, and I'm ashamed to admit that I don't pray nearly as much as I should. But at the same time, credit must be given where credit is due, and the credit for the answer to our prayers ultimately lies with God. Give thanks when He says yes, obviously; it's much harder to do the same when He says no. Unfortunately, God's been saying "no" to a lot of people lately, people to whom I can't imagine Him ever saying "no."
But He does, and what do we do with that? Ultimately, that becomes a great measure of our faith. If we choose to look at God as some kind of cosmic vending machine, we constantly set ourselves up for disappointment. But if we believe that God truly has our best interests at heart, then we can find peace in accepting the "no" as well as rejoicing in the "yes."
Again, the events of the past few weeks have brought that into clearer focus for me. Watching these people of faith carry on with the strength of the Lord as their guide showed me that even though God says "no" to our requests, it's never the end of the world.
In the end, if we can rejoice in God saying "no" as much as we rejoice in Him saying "yes," then we will know true closeness with Him.
Thanks, as always, for reading. Stay warm tonight.
In Him and around the corner (and hoping for some "yes's" of my own),
Al
"Hey, gimme a Pepsi."
"No."
"Why not?"
"That's not what you need."
"Who cares about what I need? I want a Pepsi. I put in my fifty cents, now gimme my Pepsi."
"No."
"What, did the price go up? Here, I'll put in another fifty cents. Now gimme a Pepsi."
"No."
"But I need a Pepsi!"
"No you don't, you just want a Pepsi. And I said no!"
"No, I need a Pepsi. If I don't have one, I'll have a horrible headache by day's end."
"You know that's not true. You have headaches because you're stressed out."
"So? What's with you anyway? Why can't you just gimme a Pepsi?"
"Because I know what's best for you."
"Yeah-huh. Sure you do."
"Because I know for a fact that your cholesterol level is at such a dangerous height that one more can of Pepsi buys you a ticket to the ER where the doctors will be attempting to defibrillate your heart into beating again."
"Come on, that's not gonna happen. I've been drinking Pepsi longer than I've been walking. I'll be fine. Gimme a Pepsi."
"No. Have some water instead. It'll clean out your pipes and unclog some arteries."
"Just gimme my Pepsi!"
"No. Why can't you just accept no for an answer and have something else instead?"
"You just don't work, that's what your problem is. You can't give me a Pepsi because you don't work."
"No. I won't give you a Pepsi because I don't want you dead of a heart attack at 38."
"Whatever."
By the same token, I always get uncomfortable when something good happens and it is automatically attributed to the power of prayer. Why can't we just thank God for saying "yes" to our request? By saying that prayer works, what does that say to the person who lost a loved one to cancer, despite their constant prayers for a miracle?
Don't get me wrong: we should pray always and unceasingly, and I'm ashamed to admit that I don't pray nearly as much as I should. But at the same time, credit must be given where credit is due, and the credit for the answer to our prayers ultimately lies with God. Give thanks when He says yes, obviously; it's much harder to do the same when He says no. Unfortunately, God's been saying "no" to a lot of people lately, people to whom I can't imagine Him ever saying "no."
But He does, and what do we do with that? Ultimately, that becomes a great measure of our faith. If we choose to look at God as some kind of cosmic vending machine, we constantly set ourselves up for disappointment. But if we believe that God truly has our best interests at heart, then we can find peace in accepting the "no" as well as rejoicing in the "yes."
Again, the events of the past few weeks have brought that into clearer focus for me. Watching these people of faith carry on with the strength of the Lord as their guide showed me that even though God says "no" to our requests, it's never the end of the world.
In the end, if we can rejoice in God saying "no" as much as we rejoice in Him saying "yes," then we will know true closeness with Him.
Thanks, as always, for reading. Stay warm tonight.
In Him and around the corner (and hoping for some "yes's" of my own),
Al
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