Prayer Changes My Heart

“I pray because I can’t help myself. I pray because I’m helpless. I pray because the need flows out of me all the time – waking and sleeping. It doesn’t change God – it changes me.”

CS Lewis

One of my blogging friends, Theresa Moore, posted this quote on Facebook the other day and it really stuck with me. C.S. Lewis was such a brilliant man and has such a wonderful way of explaining faith and related matters.

I especially can relate to the last part of the quote: “It doesn’t change God – it changes me.” That is so true. God does not change. He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. But by spending time with Him in prayer I am changed to be more like Him each day. As I pray for the ability to see me as He sees me – both as I am and as He desires me to be – I grow in faith and understanding. I cannot help but be changed by this process.

I have found another thing about prayer.

Jesus said that we should pray for our enemies and for those who persecute us. When we do this, our tendency is to pray that God would change them. But prayer seldom changes the difficult people in our lives (though on occasion it can).

What prayer for our enemies does is change our attitude towards them. When I earnestly pray for the difficult people in my life, God helps me to see them from His perspective and to understand a little better why they might be the way they are and the root of their difficult behavior.

Prayer doesn’t change my enemies.

It changes me. It helps me gain the wisdom and compassion necessary to love them as God has called me to do. And when I love them, perhaps I might help them to change, too.

Dear friends, never take revenge. Leave that to the righteous anger of God. For the Scriptures say,

“I will take revenge;
    I will pay them back,”
    says the Lord.

20 Instead,

“If your enemies are hungry, feed them.
    If they are thirsty, give them something to drink.
In doing this, you will heap
    burning coals of shame on their heads.”

21 Don’t let evil conquer you, but conquer evil by doing good.

Romans 12:19-21, NLT

anotherfearlessyear.net

Becoming a Steward of Your Pain

Some time ago I read a story that connected. A visiting speaker stood in front of a congregation and shared a painful incident from his childhood. He wanted to bring healing. After he spoke, an elder came up and spoke to him–

“You have learned how to become a proper steward of your pain.”

The visiting speaker was profoundly touched by this. Something came together in his heart and soul. Yes, he did learn how to deal with those ugly things from his past. And yes, he was starting to become a proper steward of his pain.

The word for steward in the original Greek is oikonomos. It literally means “a keeper of a home.” It describes a manager, or a superintendent to whom the head of the house or proprietor has entrusted the management of his affairs.

Managing these awful things for the Kingdom of God is now our ministry.

No question about it, we live in a world of darkness. Each of us has been touched by hard things. Scars are part of our lives. When we come to Christ they come with us. All of these grim things are a real piece of us; we have been hurt, or we’ve wounded others by our sinfulness.

Are you a good steward of who you are? Maybe it’s a trauma, a physical, sexual, or perhaps a mental illness. It’s a scar you carry from your past, and no one is immune from them it seems.

I believe that you’ll find freedom if you can use these things for Him and his Kingdom.

We must see and understand that Jesus has taken everything and fully redeems it all for His glory.

He understands us fully–our past, present, and future. He ‘knows’ us–the real and hidden us. The challenge is to take these sad events to the throne. He alone can heal and then use that which has devastated us. He uses our pain to touch others deeply.

But Jesus intervenes to save. As we grow to accept this, the Holy Spirit comes as our comforter and guide. He starts to teach us true redemption, and the incredible healing that takes place inside us.

It really is his work, not ours. It’s then we finally understand. It’s then we become the broken healers that God can finally use.

And it’s then we can finally say: “The light has truly overcome the dark.

Becoming a steward of our pain is His doing. We’re able to touch others with these things that cripple and destroy. He has made us “managers” of these things, and we are taught to teach others, declaring that God has completely saved us. He works miracles!

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has passed away, and see, the new has come!”

2 Corinthians 5:17

We’ll meet those who are waiting to hear our story. They’re walking through terrible pain and they don’t know what to do.

We’re being transformed into authentic witnesses. Yes, at times these awful things still hurt, and I suppose that’s to be expected. But we’re learning to manage them. We’ve become real-life stewards of our pain.

To every believer still struggling about the sin of the past or sickness of the present–keep turning it over to Him. He will make it into something quite wonderful.

Safe Haven

This poem is written in the Triolet form. I really love this form because it has the perfect amount of repetition, with lines 1, 4, and 7 being the same, and then lines 2 and 8 being the same. I have found that the Triolet is well suited to Christian poetry.

Safe Haven

This life is hard and treacherous
It’s no place to go it alone
The only safe haven is Jesus
This life is hard and treacherous

Our  Emmanuel, God with us
Will never forsake or leave us
This life is hard and treacherous
It’s no place to go it alone

I hope this poem serves as a reminder to the reader that you don’t have to navigate the treacherous waters of this life alone. Jesus wants to walk by your side, to carry you if need be, and bring you safely to the other side of Jordan.

Jesus said, “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

John 16:33 (NIV)

anotherfearlessyear.net

Make the Decision to Be Weak

 

Our society has pretty much embraced the American cultural icon of the cowboy.  We revere those who ride alone and hard. We are rugged individualists and hardened men making our own way.  Our society reflects this in subdued ways.  No matter what happens, we are fiercely free and independent.  We are ‘desperadoes’–we do whatever we think is best.

John Wayne, the ‘Alamo,’ and the biker with his Harley-Davidson on Route 66 have been our inspiration.  Each are distinctly heroic and carry our hopes and dreams.

We must understand that the Bible is not an American book.

It belongs to every tribe, race, and nation. 

A cowboy did not die for our sins (which are countless).  The way of discipleship does not take us through Luckenbach, Texas. We’re not desperados. We are Jesus’ disciples.

His Words to us are bold and entirely challenging in an amazingly fresh and different direction.  We are told to wash feet, to repeatedly turn the other cheek, to surrender all our rights, and then take the lowest place there is in every situation.

Our lives truly begin when we come under the Lordship of Jesus Christ.

Humility is to become the way we think and how we act, we have become slaves to righteousness.  Our vaunted independence has been toppled. This selfish crown has slipped. My willfulness still wants to stand instead of kneeling. We discover this has been the truth all along.  We have never ever been in control. 

He has been the King since before time, and will always be, for an eternity.

“Many Christians have what we might call a “cultural holiness”. They adapt to the character and behavior pattern of Christians around them. As the Christian culture around them is more or less holy, so these Christians are more or less holy. But God has not called us to be like those around us.

He has called us to be like Himself. Holiness is nothing less than conformity to the character of God”.

Jerry Bridges

Our churches often struggle over our personal issues of pride and stubbornness. 

I pose the following questions.  Are we honestly in a condition of being weak?  Can you serve with a basin and towel?  Is your heart that of a child? Do we see the world through the ‘lens’ of a soft and broken spirit?

I write these things surveying my own life. 

Self will and my hard heart fit ‘hand-and-glove’ with being that desperado.  I ride alone, making my own way, and I don’t make any disciples. I jettison my cross— my cross of discipleship.  I serve no one, unless it suits me.  Am I His disciple, or am I a man of my own?  Is He my Lord, or have I decided to claim that right for myself?

I only hope I have spoken the truth today. Forgive me if I offended.

“Lord, I am willing to receive what You give, to lack what You withhold, to relinquish what You take, to suffer what You inflict, to be what You require.”  Amen.