Life has this way of pulling us in a thousand directions at once, doesn’t it? There’s the constant hum of obligations, deadlines, and distractions—a never-ending playlist of demands. And in the midst of it all, we can start to feel like we’re losing the plot, like we’re just moving through the motions. I call it “getting lost in the sauce”…
But here’s the thing: even in the chaos, there’s grace.
Grace is not about striving harder or being perfect. It’s about discovering that God is present in every moment—the messy, the mundane, the miraculous. The sacred is right here, in the very fabric of your ordinary day. It’s both ordinary and mysterious all at the same time.
Think about how Jesus lived. He walked dusty roads. He shared meals with fishermen and tax collectors. He paused to notice people—a woman at a well, a man in a tree, children running toward Him. He didn’t rush through life; He moved with intention, always present, always open to the beauty and possibility in the moment.
And maybe that’s the invitation for us. To slow down. To breathe deeply. To notice.
One of my favorite fiction authors, Brandon Sanderson once said, “Enjoy memories, yes, but don’t be a slave to who you wish you once had been. Those memories aren’t alive. You are.”
So my fellow ponderers, notice the laughter of a friend. The warmth of sunlight breaking through your window. The kindness of a stranger. The joy of a child’s giggle. These aren’t just random moments; they’re whispers of grace, reminders that you’re not alone in this. And that you are alive. What a gift this is!
Scripture reminds us, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18).
Close. Not far off, not out of reach. Close.
What if we lived as though that were true? What if we embraced the idea that God is not only with us in the big, life-altering moments but also in the small, overlooked ones? I call those small things microblessings. They are often overlooked and taken for granted. But God is present within all of it, and with you.
So today, let’s practice looking for the sacred in the ordinary. Let’s believe that grace is woven into the very fabric of our lives, waiting to be noticed, waiting to be embraced. Take notice. Look around you. Breathe deep the blessings and grace of God. It’s there for you to receive.
You are loved. You are held. And you are walking in grace—even now.
There’s something magnetic about the way the psalms draw us in, isn’t there? They’re raw, human, unpolished. They take us to the very core of the human experience—joy, pain, fear, gratitude. Today, let’s pause with Psalm 34:
“I sought the Lord, and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears. Those who look to him are radiant; their faces are never covered with shame. … Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the one who takes refuge in him.”
Did you catch that? Fear and radiance, shame and goodness—all intertwined. The psalmist isn’t merely saying, “Believe this.” He’s inviting us to experience it, to live it, to feel it deep in our bones.
“I sought the Lord, and he answered me.”
Seeking is active. It’s not passive waiting; it’s stepping into the mystery, bringing our messy, tangled fears before God. When you seek, you’re opening your heart to the possibility that maybe—just maybe—there’s a love big enough to hold you, even in your darkest moments.
And then? Freedom. Deliverance. The kind of peace that makes fear lose its grip.
“Those who look to him are radiant.”
Radiance—it’s not about physical beauty or perfection. It’s about what happens when you live with the weight of shame lifted off your shoulders. It’s the glow of someone who knows they’re deeply loved, fully seen, and completely accepted.
Have you ever noticed how light seems to pour out of people who’ve encountered that kind of love? Their joy isn’t tethered to circumstances; it flows from something deeper, more unshakable.
“Taste and see that the Lord is good.”
This isn’t a theoretical proposition. It’s an invitation to dive in. To taste. To see. To engage all your senses. The psalmist is saying, “Try it. Take the leap. Experience God’s goodness for yourself.”
Think about tasting—really tasting—a piece of ripe fruit. You don’t analyze it from a distance. You bite into it. The sweetness floods your mouth. It’s immediate. Real. That’s the kind of encounter with God the psalmist is talking about.
So, what’s the invitation here?
It’s not to have all the answers. (we certainly don’t) It’s not to tidy up your life or figure out your theology. (it’s still a work in progress) It’s simply to come. To seek. To look. To taste. To take refuge in a God who is good—always good—even when life feels anything but.
What would it look like for you to bring your fears to God today? To trust that he meets you right there, not with condemnation, but with deliverance?
What if you leaned into his goodness—not as a concept, but as a reality you can taste and see and know?
Let’s live this day tasting, seeing, trusting. Because when we do, radiance isn’t just a possibility; it becomes the very rhythm of our lives.
We all know the story of the prodigal son – that wayward child who demanded his inheritance, squandered it in wild living, and finally came crawling back home to his father’s embrace. The scripture literally says, “when he came to his senses” (Luke 15:17, NIV) It’s a beautiful tale of redemption, one we’ve heard countless times from pulpits and Sunday school classes…and maybe an old flannel-graph or two. But lately, I’ve been wrestling with an uncomfortable truth: the prodigal son isn’t just a character in a parable. He lives within me. There. I’ve said it. (Phew, what a relief).
You see, I’ve spent years pointing fingers at others’ shortcomings while expertly avoiding the mirror. I’ve sat in church pews, Bible balanced perfectly on my lap, nodding along to sermons about transformation while carefully tucking away the parts of myself that needed transforming most. I’ve become a master at seeing the speck in my brother’s eye while ignoring the plank in my own. Can you relate? I sure hope you can. Because I think this shadow-self, this prodigal lives within us all.
But God, in His persistent grace, hasn’t let me stay comfortable in my spiritual blindness. He’s been gently, yet firmly, turning my gaze inward, inviting me to examine those shadowy corners of my heart I’ve worked so hard to ignore. This isn’t just another devotional about self-improvement or a three-step guide to better Christian living. This is my raw, honest journey of confronting the prodigal within – the parts of myself I’d rather pretend don’t exist.
Let me start by confessing something that makes me deeply uncomfortable: I am a master of selective Christianity. I’ve perfected the art of highlighting the verses that make me feel good while skillfully dodging the ones that challenge my comfortable patterns. For years, I’ve chosen to focus on God’s promises of prosperity while conveniently overlooking His calls to die to self. I’ve championed grace for others in public while harboring private judgments that would make the Pharisees proud.
This journey began years ago, on an ordinary Wednesday evening, during what should have been a routine small group meeting. We were discussing the Beatitudes – familiar territory, I thought. But when someone asked, “What does it really mean to be poor in spirit?” I opened my mouth to give my usual polished answer and suddenly stopped short. In that moment, the Holy Spirit held up a mirror, and for the first time, I truly saw myself. Have you had that mirror experience too?
In that moment, I saw the pride masquerading as spiritual wisdom. I saw the selfishness dressed up in religious duty. I saw the fear hiding behind my confident exterior. Like the prodigal son, I hadn’t physically left my Father’s house, but my heart had wandered far from home. I was living in a far country of my own making, feeding on the husks of religious performance while starving for genuine transformation.
This isn’t a story about wallowing in guilt or shame. Rather, it’s about the extraordinary discovery that the same Father who runs to meet the physically prodigal son also races toward those of us who’ve wandered within the walls of the church. It’s about finding that true repentance begins not with outward actions, but with the courage to face ourselves honestly before God.
How honest are we about this prodigal within? When the Holy Spirit lifts that mirror before us what do we see and what do we intentionally ignore?
Confronting our Prodigal Self When we confront instead of flee, true growth begins to take root within us. Only when we begin to accept that which we have long ignored will we truly experience freedom from the slavery of self. It’s liberating. You should try it sometime…there I go again judging you when I still have work to do.
Something more to ponder today. Questions to consider: 1) What is preventing you right now from confronting your prodigal self (your shadow-self)? 2) What is the Holy Spirit saying to you? 3) How can you intentionally accept God’s honest, yet loving assessment of you? Being vulnerable before God is hard. What can you do to set aside five minutes today to just sit before that mirror? Don’t flinch, just sit and listen. He desires to clothe you and throw a party for his child who was once lost but is now found. (Repeat again tomorrow).
After the death of a loved one, I felt lost. The prayers we had all prayed seemed to have been for nothing. I felt as if God were distant from me, and if I’m being honest, I was angry at Him for not answering my prayers when I needed Him most. I resented Him, and I felt my faith fading away. It wasn’t gone entirely, but I found myself questioning the rhythms and routines of my faith journey. Had I grown too comfortable? Is there more to faith than this? Am I doing it all wrong?
I have discovered that faith, like most things, can wane from time to time. I do not think it’s wrong to express moments of doubt. Because doubt, like shadows, can often cast its long amorphous tendrils over the spaces once illuminated by trust and assurance…but the light is still there.
Time, you see, though a human construct, can separate us from that path, and we begin to forget. What do we forget, you may ask? We forget the fulfillment of God’s promises. We lose sight of the many times we felt His presence with us, and instead we only recall the times when our prayers seemed to go unanswered. Time has a way of allowing those shadows to grow in us. And then our grip is loosened, and our resolve erodes. Often times when this happens, we berate ourselves because we lack faith. Inwardly we cower at the thought that others might discover our shortcomings. Why are we afraid to be vulnerable around other Christ-followers? Do we not realize that they struggle with their faith and doubt too? We often fail to acknowledge that they are also imperfect and just as vulnerable. And yet, oftentimes, our first inclination is to worry about what others might think of our struggles instead of sharing them. Could it be that when we share, we commiserate and encourage others? Instead of sharing, our first instinct is to hide and pretend to be something we are not – perfect. Here’s a confession for you: I am so tired of pretending to be perfect. I despise the masks that we force ourselves to wear. I hate the Christianese jargon that we spout when all of it is shallow and signifies nothing but words that fail to penetrate our hearts.
Can I be real for just a second? I fear that 90% of our offerings to God (worship services, the words we say, catch phrases and platitudes) are performed for the benefit of others and not God…and the flickering flame of our faith continues to dim, and we wonder why.
When Faith Flickers – Ask the Hard Questions.
I think it’s safe to say that God is not threatened by our questions; instead, He invites them as pathways to deeper faith and understanding. When we ask the tough questions it creates authenticity and, believe it or not, it deepens our relationship with Him. We no longer have to placate or utter words that have become routine and ritualistic. Instead, we begin to actually battle with the tangible problems of life. Many times, we tend to avoid the hard questions because they could cause doubt; but in reality, asking the tough questions brings perspective, and in so doing, our faith becomes resilient having been forged in deeper roots.
Don’t Be Afraid of Authenticity.
So throw off the mask, the false pretenses, the Christianese jargon, the constant worry about what others might think because you aren’t acting or dressing the part of what Church is “supposed” to look like. Here’s a newsflash – You are the church. It’s you. It’s been you all this time. God wants YOU to be real and honest with Him about your faith. He doesn’t need any more empty talk that placates but is void of action and credibility. It’s okay to doubt. It’s okay to ask the hard questions, especially when faith begins to flicker. It may seem that the shadows are growing darker around you, but embrace the path that you’re currently on. There’s something to be learned from it all. And when you begin to tackle the daunting, the seemingly insurmountable, and you face the thing you fear the most – you will discover God has never left you. He’s right there with you.
When your faith flickers, and the shadows of doubt may seem overwhelming, but remember that God is not distant or disinterested. He is present in your questions, your fears, and your struggles. Doubt doesn’t disqualify you from His love; it invites you into deeper dependence on Him.
God’s light shines brightest in the darkest moments, guiding you through uncertainty with His truth and grace. Like a steady flame, His faithfulness remains unwavering, even when your faith feels weak. Lean into Him, trusting that He will meet you in the shadows, rekindle your hope, and lead you into a deeper, more resilient faith.
When you walk with God, even flickering faith becomes the foundation for a stronger, enduring trust in His unchanging character and promises.
I have been debating if I should write about this topic. I have started a number of times only to delete what I’ve written. But here goes…
My Personal Embarrassment
Nearly three months ago I tore my Achilles heel playing pickleball. One minute I was returning a serve and a volley, the next I thought someone had crashed into me from behind and hit me in the back of the leg. The pain felt like a sharp rubber band had snapped my leg. It was sudden and then I knew I could not walk on it. I finally realized there wasn’t a pickleball bandit behind me who had just assaulted me, but rather I had sustained an injury that would end my professional aspirations for pickleball glory.
The next few months were difficult. I openly admit to my defiant stubbornness. I was not fun to be around and I frequently got frustrated with my inability to walk and function. I was blessed to receive a knee scooter instead of using crutches to go anywhere. To put it bluntly I was temporarily handicapped and I hated. EVERY. MINUTE. OF. IT!
Physical Therapy
The first time I attended physical therapy I realized how much scar tissue I had on my heel and the pain, though good, reminded me of how much work I still needed to do to help me progress and walk normally again. I was taught exercises and stretches that would push me past my pain levels, and I fear I would potentially reinjure myself. Still I worked at it and my physical therapist reminded me that the pain I was enduring was normal and that it would help me get better faster if I just embraced it.
In a matter of two months my calf muscles had atrophied from lack of use and I needed to begin the process of restoring strength that would only be discovered through the pain of recovery. As I practiced my exercises and pushed my perceived limits of flexibility, I discovered that my limits were self-inflicted and not reality. The more I pushed my muscles the more the resistance of my mental blocks crumbled away. Through gritted teeth and a little bit of sweat, I began to make tremendous strides (pun intended).
Spiritual atrophy
As I continued my physical therapy I was reminded that my spiritual journey is a lot like these appointments. I have often faced spiritual deserts where I have willingly refrained from flexing my spiritual muscles. There have been times when I have become lethargic in my spiritual journey and have spent far less time in prayer and more effort spent in time-wasting activities that contained nothing beneficial to my soul.
Sometimes it is easy to fall into habits that edify nothing but our own inertness. I am not discouraging rest, simply pointing out that there is a stark difference between being overly inactive and resting. Rest provides much needed recharge to those who are actively working for a purpose. Inertness leaves muscles untested and leads to diminished abilities both physically and spiritually.
There are times where atrophy of the heart and soul freezes us in place and creates walls around our perceptions of growth and spiritual purpose. Be mindful of the traps. The father of lies would love to keep us in these spaces of inactivity and atrophy. When we are frozen in place we are no longer a threat to darkness and all the trappings of this world.
Embrace the Pain!
Be willing to have your plans disrupted. Be willing to allow the Holy Spirit to disturb your heart through conviction and revelation. In the spiritual stretching process, may we be able to work out the pain of growth as our wounds are exposed. The Lord seeks to heal, restore and stretch us – the only thing preventing us from expanding our faith is…us. Embrace the pain, the growing pains, the exposed hurts, the vulnerable spaces we have yet to surrender. When we embrace them they can no longer keep us bound by human reasoning and earthly limits. Instead we are exposed to an eternal perspective that will drive us into a deeper faith.
I admit that I inwardly cringe when politics is mentioned or brought up in social circles. I also admit that I have never watched an entire debate (Presidential or otherwise) because I cannot stand the vitriol, the barbs and the untruths being shared. I find most political campaigns distasteful and many times it turns into an outright smear campaign hell-bent on casting each other in the poor light of public opinion. Most campaigns raise millions of dollars and then spend those funds on nasty political commercials that push the boundaries of defamation of character and blurs the lines of reality as the political spin-doctors create a plethora of false narratives for the public to digest like a fast food meal eaten in haste and without much thought given to the consequences of long-term exposure. (phew, that was a run-on sentence)
Another reason that I cannot stand an election year boils down to how it effects the Body of Christ. I have witnessed numerous political posts on social media that devolved into name calling and petty childish behavior perpetrated by both individuals (sometimes more than two parties participated) who professed to be followers of Christ. To say that it was ugly is an understatement.
This doesn’t mean that I don’t have my own opinions on political matters, but I tend to keep my opinions private. Most of the time I do this because, as already mentioned, even Christ-followers get sucked into divisive political debates that serve no purpose other than to start arguments and dissent among Christians and non-Christians alike. Others start these toxic conversations just to sound superior, or because they like the sound of their own voice in the need to win the argument for the sake of pride and being right. I find such behavior distasteful and, at times, sense that it is doing more harm to the Kingdom and in our ability to share the Good News of Jesus Christ than good.
Living Above Reproach
1 Timothy 3:2-5 New International Version (NIV)
“Now the overseer is to be above reproach, faithful to his wife, temperate, self-controlled, respectable, hospitable, able to teach, not given to drunkenness, not violent but gentle, not quarrelsome, not a lover of money. He must manage his own family well and see that his children obey him, and he must do so in a manner worthy of full respect. (If anyone does not know how to manage his own family, how can he take care of God’s church?)“
This passage in 1 Timothy speaks primarily to those wanting to be in church leadership, but it’s not too much of a stretch to expect Christ-followers to also possess “self-control, respectability…” In the ASV version they use the term ‘of Sober-mind’ and I think that fitting when applying wisdom of thought and one who possess emotional intelligence enough to avoid the trappings of social arguments.
When we get drawn into such frivolous and pointless arguments, our emotional intelligence and our Christian integrity diminishes. Thus, there is the need for all of us, who profess to be a Christ-follower, to become masters of our own emotions and possess a wisdom far beyond the wisdom offered in our society today. That is why it is so important for Christians to maintain and expand our walk with the Lord on a daily basis. If we profess Christ with our lips but our actions in public (or on a social media platform) declares the opposite, we will have become useless to the Kingdom. As a matter of fact, we will have become worse than useless – we will have unwittingly become ambassadors of Satan and will help to usher people to hell through our divisive talk and hateful attitudes.
Does that sound too harsh? Good. It should be sobering to all of us.
Kingdom Living = Kingdom Perspectives
Colossians 3:12-14 (NLT)
“Remember, the Lord forgave you, so you must forgive others. Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds us all together in perfect harmony.“
Romans 12:16-21
“16 Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position. Do not be conceited. 17 Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everyone. 18 If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. 19 Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,” says the Lord. 20 On the contrary: “If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head.” 21 Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.“
Hebrews 13:14 –
“For this world is not our home; we are looking forward to our everlasting home in heaven.“
I firmly believe that if we claim to be Kingdom people who have been gloriously saved, then we need to starting living that proclamation while refraining from dipping our toes into the waters dissention and brokenness. Kingdom living ought to bring consistency of Christian living, character, hope, love and redemption into a world so devoid of these things. Kingdom wisdom elevates our emotional intelligence to refrain from devolving into pettiness and choices of words that divide and cause pain instead of healing.
I don’t write these words to sound superior or to judge others. I write these words first and foremost for me. It is as a reminder of the calling that I have claimed in my life. If, by chance you feel some kind of conviction or that these words resonate with you, then Praise the Lord! I also acknowledge that these words will fall on deaf ears. And dare I say, there are some who claim Jesus with their lips, but denounce Him in their living. Be aware of the pitfalls, dear friends. Often times, we may think that this could never happen to us, and then we discover such pitfalls are much closer than we originally realized.
So, dear Christ-followers, be of sober mind this Presidential election. Remember first and foremost God’s Kingdom supersedes any human establishments of authority and He will provide, He will tear down, and He alone will be our source of truth and redemption.
There is something about music that has a way of capturing our emotions that words could never do. I can still remember as a young child hearing my favorite song being played on the radio. It stirred my heart and I felt joy hearing those powerful refrains in the chorus. Music can evoke a wide range of emotions and, at times, usher us into the very throne room of heaven. Hans Christian Andersen once said, “Where words fail, music speaks.” As a life-long musician I know those words to be especially true.
Before King David became king of Israel, he was a shepherd boy. The role of a shepherd was not a desired role. It was often assigned to the youngest child or hired out to a lowly servant. No one wanted that job and often the one serving in that position would miss important religious feasts and celebrations because they would have been considered ceremonially unclean. Still, David was a shepherd and while he watched the family flocks he composed songs to the Lord. Even in his lowly state, David was content in his role and sought to sing heart-felt melodies to God. David is said to have composed 75 of the 150 Psalms that we now have in our bibles. In Psalm 27 David declares “The Lord is my light and my salvation – whom shall I fear?“ Later on in the same Psalm he says that despite the difficulties of life and enemies surrounding him, he would continue to “sing and make music in his heart to the Lord.”
Life can often be very difficult. Sometimes we lack resources and at other times it seems as if the whole world is against us. But we, like the Apostle Paul, can declare “If God is for us, who can be against us?” (Romans 8:31). Perhaps like David, we can lift our voices and our instruments to the Almighty despite the obstacles and challenges we face in life. We are called as Christians to declare the Good News of Jesus in every corner of the world. But how do we begin such a monumental task? First we pray and seek God with all of our hearts, minds, bodies and souls. Then, as we allow His presence to fill and transform us – we can lift our voices and joyfully praise Him by singing and making music to the Lord Almighty.
Dear musician, as you sing or play every note – allow the love of God to flow through you. If you don’t approach music as a conduit of worship to God, it can become a performance that draws the spectacle on you instead of drawing others to the worship of our Father in Heaven.
Performance Or Worship? I have played in some worship bands that were very talented. They exuded confidence and could hit every note with precision and masterful grace. Some of these worship ministry teams carefully planned worshipful and meaningful sets that invited others into sacred spaces of praise to God, while other teams selected pieces that they were comfortable with and often times displayed their enormous talent but the songs were performance-driven and were not singable by the congregation.
Be mindful of the trap of performance over worship. Performance can lead to pride and arrogance while worship keeps us centered on the Author of our talent and the notes we sing. Approach worship ministry from a place of humility and honor and keep the discipline of prayer as you select pieces that will lead others into the presence of God.
Some say never meet your heroes because they’re sure to disappoint you. In a lot of ways we all have this tendency to elevate celebrities, sports stars and others onto pedestals of glory and fame. We can often place a higher estimation of their character and moral fortitude without even truly knowing them. I recall how mortified and disillusioned many Christians were when, after the death of Ravi Zacharias, prominent theologian, teacher and evangelist, stories of deviant and immoral sexual behavior were told about him. What a tremendous marring to his legacy and reputation. Whatever good he had done in life was completely consumed by this dark and abhorrent predatory behavior.
At first glance we often do not have the full measure or understanding of someone’s true character. And it can become a cautionary tale of both wrongfully elevating other humans to places they do not and should not deserve, while at the same it should compel us to explore every aspect of our own personal faith journey. Romans 12:3 (NIV) says, “For by the grace given me I (Paul) say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the faith God has distributed to each of you.” When we elevate ourselves and assume places of prominence we risk not only becoming arrogant but losing sight of who holds ultimate Authority and we might assume the place of God.
Our world is already full of narcissistic behaviors that ruin lives and extort our time and energy. Sometimes we fall prey to other’s narcissism while other times we are the perpetrators of our own selfish behavior. I would venture a guess that all of us are equally culpable of these self-absorbed tendencies from time to time. Do you know what eliminates this hero complex in us? We are called upon to die to this old way of thinking and living. Jesus said in Matthew 16:24 “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”
No one desires to wash feet. It is not in our fallen nature to assume the role of servant. And yet, Jesus set an example for us to follow. John 13:14-17 (NIV) says, “Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet. 15 I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you.16 Very truly I tell you, no servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him. 17 Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them.”
No one should meet their heroes – for disappointment could follow. Similarly, we ought to not think so highly of ourselves. This doesn’t mean that we should have a low opinion of ourselves, or low confidence in the gifts God has given us. Rather, we should utilize these gifts to completely bring glory and honor to God instead of ourselves. If we strive to ‘make a name for ourselves’ we run the risk of exchanging God’s glory for our own. I would rather er on the side of caution and give all glory and honor to the One who governs my steps.
May His beauty be seen in what you choose to do and say, and may the Author and Perfector of your faith govern your steps and your motivations. -Something more to ponder today.
“…Again Jesus said, “Peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.” And with that he breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit…” John 20:21-22
What exactly is a “dangerous prayer?” Does it have a fuse and a countdown clock? Will it spontaneously ignite the bed I am currently kneeling next to?
No, dangerous prayers are not like any of that imagery, instead, dangerous prayers have the power to transform our lives and assist us in aligning our motives with the Author of everything – God himself.
What is a Dangerous Prayer? First, let’s explore our everyday, ordinary prayer. A lot of the time it goes something like this, “Dear Lord, I pray for my day and my job, I also pray for my coworkers. Lord, be with my kids in school and protect all of us as we travel from home to school and work and back again. In Your name, I pray all of these things. -Amen.” Now, don’t get me wrong, these are great prayers to pray. We want to have good days at work and school, and of course, we want our kids to be safe and everyone back under one roof at the end of the day. But is this the only kind of prayer that we pray? Do we actually invite Jesus along with us in our day? Do we converse with Him within each hour of our day?
What would it look like if you were to begin to practice an intimate and ancient type of prayer life as an act of a spiritual discipline of practicing the presence of Christ? I am sure that it would be hard to do at first. We often get busy and distracted during our chores and duties of work and leisure. How drastically would our prayer life change if praying began to become less of a scheduled time beside our bed and a continual conversation with Jesus throughout every moment of the day?
Why is it Dangerous?
There are spaces in our lives that we like to keep separate from our “Spiritual” lives. We can create these divisions intentionally or unintentionally and they separate “daily living” from “church behavior.” Dare I say that it is not that we put on masks to cover up the image of Christ in us, but rather we subconsciously create these divided spaces. Essentially what we are saying when we do this is, “Jesus you can have my life and all that I am when I come to you on Sundays and maybe Wednesdays, but when I’m at work or out on my leisure time I wish to exclude you from these behaviors, thoughts, and practices.”
But what if instead of maintaining these divided spaces, we tore them down and invited Jesus to journey with us during every moment of that day? What if we treated prayer like a continual conversation with an Omniscient and omnipresent God? He already knows me, so why do I fail to include Him in the majority of the hours of my day?
Prayer becomes dangerous when we begin to pray to a friend rather than an all-powerful deity. Prayer becomes dangerous when we begin to treat prayer like the very breath in our lungs instead of a genie in a bottle doling out wishes and granting us “good days”.
If you feel called out, get in line – so do I. I feel convicted by this notion. I feel as if I have attempted to live this life with a drained battery and a reduced amount of power. Is it no wonder that we often feel defeated and powerless as the world seems to crush our dreams and deprive of us joy? It isn’t because our prayers went unanswered it’s because our conversation with God has been sporadic and devoid of relationship. Relationships require work, and Jesus has done all of the heavy lifting, but at some point, we have to meet Him halfway. There must come a point at which within this relationship we have to mature in our faith and get serious about talking to Him.
From Dangerous Prayer to Living by Faith
I write these words fully recognizing that I have not, nor am I even close to reaching entire sanctification nor full maturity in my faith. Perhaps you are further on that road than I am, or perhaps you are just beginning. Regardless of your mile marker, it is not too late to begin to practice dangerous prayers in your life. It is not too late to tear down the divides that separate “Spiritual life” for “real life”…it’s all “Life”, or it really should be.
How Do I Start? It might sound overly simplistic, but here’s how you start: First, invite Jesus along for your daily commute to work, then invite Him into your office or workspace and attempt that continual conversation. It will take some serious discipline but do not give up, keep at it. Also, there is one caveat: talk to Jesus, but also listen and do what He says.
For the Road:
This is just a primer to a much deeper pondering on this topic of continual conversations with God that turns ordinary prayer habits into a dangerous prayer relationship. The key is that last word: relationship. God is near. He isn’t some distant God imparting knowledge from afar but rather desires access to our hearts and experiences moment by moment. The real questions isn’t “Will He show up?”, the real question is, “Am I willing to pray dangerous prayers and begin such a life-changing discipline of prayer?”
So, what do you think? Is this just some fantasy thought or will you take up the challenge?
I am still processing the loss of a friend this past week. If the dictionary had a description of a faithful servant with rough edges it would be my friend Billie. He didn’t care what position you held or the title you used. He didn’t treat anyone any differently based on social status or education. He never pretended to know everything nor did he wear a mask to hide those rough, street-smart edges.
He was the kind of person I admired. There weren’t any false pretenses or ulterior motives and you always knew where you stood with him because he never held back on his opinions and suggestions. He had a quick sense of humor and often could give it as much as he could take it.
But do you know what I admired the most about my friend? It was his ability to care about others. You see, that’s the mark of a good and faithful servant of God. Billie would often go the extra mile for the youth at his corps. He would pull a troubled teen aside and lovingly, yet firmly, tell them the error of their ways. It was never done with the judgment of a pharisee, but rather the love of a person who had gone down some of those same roads in his younger years. He understood the heartache of young people who didn’t have the adult parental role model that they needed at home. He often took it upon himself to call wayward teens who had made poor choices and he often became their voice of reason. He did all of that because he cared.
Billie served right alongside former drunks, drug addicts, the homeless, mentally ill men, and women. He served the marginalized and did it all without any kind of need for recognition. I admired that about him. He was driven by a love that far exceeded his own capacity to love because He knew the Author of love – God.
Long after Shanais and I had left the ministry there in Evansville, where he lived, Billie would still call me and text me to check in. He would often call during the Christmas kettle season, saying something like, “Don’t you miss it?” (meaning the chaos and thecraziness of driving around unique bell ringers and all the stories that came with it). Sometimes Billie would call me up to ask for advice about reaching particular young people he felt were drifting from their faith in God. Other times I would receive a text from him after my Chicago Cubs had lost another game or his St Louis Cardinals had gone on a winning streak. I’m going to miss his ribbing and humor. I was thinking about texting him on the same day that I received the sudden news of his passing. I had a whole text message drafted in my mind containing some ribbing of my own as the Cardinals were in a slump – truth be told so were the Cubs, but I didn’t care.
Billie was a good friend to so many people. He loved deeply, warts and all. Perhaps someday I’ll be brave enough to love so unabashedly as he did. To call out the “crap” when he saw it, without being embarrassed to “call it like it is.” Sometimes the truth hurts, but people need to hear it from a source of care and love. He had the marks of the “good and faithful” and, despite the fact that I know Billie is with the Lord today, I know his church family (Which went far beyond the walls of any church) is greatly missing him, just as I am.
My heart wants to find some sort of lesson in all of this, but I think Billie’s testimony and life speak for themselves. “Well done good and faithful servant, you have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master” Matthew 25:21
Pastor's Ponderings 