When It's Not Safe to Pray

Dear Old Friend,

After all of the years we’ve known each other, you know that I am a great believer in prayer.  I pray about everything, big and small.  In my opinion there is nothing too insignificant to bring to God; I believe he’s not too busy to care about even silly things like lost keys.  He’s a God of tiny details like the number of hairs on my head, so I never worry that I’m bothering him with my seemingly insignificant requests.

I also know there’s nothing too big for God to take on.  I’ve seen magnificent “yes” answers to prayers about huge things, where the seemingly impossible happens.  I have also witnessed “no” answers to prayers, where God in his infinite wisdom had other plans.  Prayer has then helped me to accept God’s sovereignty.   

I have also always counseled others to pray.  If I’m asked to impart wisdom about a particular situation, I may offer my thoughts and then recommend that they not rely on my judgment, but rather bring their questions to God in prayer and he will give them the true wisdom they need; but, often I simply decline to offer my opinion and send them straight to prayer.  I didn’t realize just how frequently I gave that answer until my daughter told me about a conversation she had with my son-in-law who was struggling with something.  She suggested that he call and talk to me.  He smiled and said, “I don’t have to call her because I already know what she will say.  She will tell me to pray.”

I’m only telling you this so that you can put into context how odd it is for me to say that there are things about which I have learned it is not safe for me to pray.  I have so much emotional investment in these specific issues, that when I pray I become utterly desperate, to the point of demanding that God give me the “yes” answer I believe I must have.  I rail and wail; I beg and plead; I work myself into a frenzy and feel myself drawing a line in the sand, belligerently declaring in my heart, if not in words, that if God doesn’t give me what I am asking for, I am done; and when I finish praying I feel terribly alone.

I am sad to admit that scene has played itself out many times; but, thankfully, what God has taught me is that, even when I have followed that path, and I feel like the Incredible Hulk who has just alienated God with my rage, he does not leave me alone.  He understands what prompted my desperation and loves me, and assures me that he is big enough to handle my fear and anger.  But he has also taught me that I am much better off when I simply do not go down that road.

The alternative, for me, is to stop when the panic starts to rise, and tell God, “You know how I feel”, and leave it at that.  If that doesn’t stop the desperation, I have some precious friends, like you, to whom I know I can turn, and ask to pray for me.  I don’t just mean “pray for me”, in the way we typically mean, but, to pray instead of me; to pray in my place; to pray because it is not safe for me to pray. 

When I do that, I always feel the prayers wash over me and I have an immediate sense of peace.  The pure grace of God extended to me through those who love me.  I am writing this to you because I find myself once again in need of those prayers.  I cannot tell you how much it means to know that you will pray in my stead.

Thank you, dear friend.

Love Always,

Bonnie

 

Red Light, Green Light...Blue Light?

 

Dear Old Friend,

As you know I just came back from visiting my three year old and five month old grandsons.  I had so much fun!  There is so much difference between how I was with my children and how I am as a Grammie.  Maybe this whole idea of a second childhood is at its best when it comes to playing with your grandchildren.  I play with great abandon.  I’m silly and spontaneous and inventive.  I was never like that with my kids.  When I found time to play, I remember it being pretty unimaginative and regimented.  Maybe this had something to do with feeling the weight of responsibility for teaching them something important in every activity.  I don’t feel a bit of that weight with my grandsons and I absolutely love the freedom. 

I have also discovered that I am the one who is learning the important things as I play with them.  Since little children have not yet become sophisticated at disguising their human natures, I can clearly see myself and all of us in the way they approach life.  I have an example I thought you would enjoy.  My daughter was playing an impromptu game of red-light-green-light with her three year old.  He would run until she said “red light”, then he had to stop where he was and wait for her to say “green light”, at which point he would run again.  This reminded them both of something they had done before which they enjoyed.  They taped red, green and yellow pieces of construction paper on the floor.  The idea was to start at a green square, run until you hit a yellow square, which meant you had to slow down, and then finally come to a complete stop on a red square.  I could see that this game had many practical applications.  It taught color recognition as well as the concept of traffic lights, and, it even taught the importance of obeying the law.

The three year old was dispatched to fetch the construction paper while my daughter got the tape.  He came back excitedly with a handful of colorful papers, including blue.  My daughter proceeded to tape the green, red and yellow “lights” at various intervals around the house, but my grandson insisted that he wanted to tape the blue paper, too.  My daughter patiently explained what each of the colored “lights” represented and encouraged him to stick to just those three.  He was fine for a few minutes, faithfully following the path and its instructions; running, slowing, stopping, then running again.  But soon he was quiet and we saw that he was taping the blue “lights” to the floor.  My daughter tried to reason with him, but he was adamant, so she shook her head, shrugged her shoulders and let him continue. 

Soon my grandson was attempting to follow the path, but, because even he didn’t know what he should do when he came to a blue square, he lost focus and was soon just running aimlessly.  My daughter finally called out to him in a frustrated voice, “See; now you are just running with total disregard for the law!”

I thought that was hilarious, but my daughter didn’t think it was nearly as funny as I did.  All I could think was that we are all just like my grandson.  God gave us the law, which, if learned and followed, would make our lives so much simpler and more pleasant; but, we just can’t do it.  We insist on going our own way, sticking in our blue meaningless squares, and once we have gotten our way we lose all focus and are soon running in total disregard for the law. 

The consequences of our actions have more of an eternal significance, however, than those of my three year old grandson; so, knowing that about us and loving us, God sent his son to follow all of the rules for us, and then credited us with his perfect obedience.  His son then took all of the punishment for our willful disobedience, so that we would not have to.  Such an unbelievable gift!

We come from the womb with little rebel hearts, don’t we!  It sure is a good thing our Father loves us so much.               

Love Always,

Bonnie