Life Goes Better with Prayer
I will answer them before they even call to
me. While they are still talking about their needs, I will go ahead and answer
their prayers! (Isaiah 65:24; NLT)
How’s
your prayer life? If you’re anything like me, it can be a struggle sometimes. But
lately, I've been thinking that maybe I’ve been looking at prayer from the
wrong perspective. You see, I’ve always thought that prayer was my idea, and
that a conversation with God was initiated by me. But that means that prayer becomes
dependent upon my mood and readiness. And frankly, sometimes I’m just not in
the mood. In fact, sometimes I’ve been reluctant to pray when I needed to pray the
most because of things I’d done or said which made me feel ashamed or
embarrassed by a less than perfect life. Now maybe that’s just me. But what if
that’s the wrong perspective? What if it’s God who initiates prayer and not me?
What if prayer is really God’s idea and not mine?
In
1 John 5:14-15, the apostle says, “And we can be confident that he will listen to us
whenever we ask him for anything in line with his will. And if we know he is
listening when we make our requests, we can be sure that he will give us what
we ask for.” In Greek, the word
used for “confident” is parresia which
means the freedom to speak openly or frankly; with bold assurance. For John,
prayer was face-to-face communication with God during which he could speak both
frankly and openly.
But
who starts that face-to-face conversation? In a word: Jesus. John makes that
clear in 1 John 4:19 when he says that, "We love him because he first
loved us." In other words, God is the prime mover in the relationship, and
he makes known to us his will so that we can ask for what he longs to give us. That’s
how we know that God hears us because he’s the one who asked for the
conversation in the first place. And then when we ask, we can do so with
confidence since we are asking for that which he is already prepared to give. Christ
is the heart of God with us. He guides us in what and how to ask. When we ask
in keeping with what he has revealed to us, we ask with the boldness that the
answer is on the way. Take a look at Romans 8:26-28, for example.
There,
Paul says, “And the
Holy Spirit helps us in our distress. For we don't even know what we should
pray for, nor how we should pray. But the Holy Spirit prays for us with
groanings that cannot be expressed in words. And the Father who knows all
hearts knows what the Spirit is saying, for the Spirit pleads for us believers
in harmony with God's own will. And we know that God causes everything to work
together for the good of those who love God and are called
according to his purpose for them.” In other words, the Holy Spirit, or God’s
indwelling presence, initiates prayer.
I
think the full impact of this particular passage is actually better understood by
starting at the end and working forward, i.e.,
we are called and appointed to belong to the Lord, and his desire is for
all things in our lives to work together to accomplish the plan he has for us.
That plan is his will for us, and the Greek word for “will,” thele'ma, means “desire.” In other words, the
Lord has a desire for all of us, a purpose for us to accomplish. But he doesn’t
leave us after we’re born again without training or help in accomplishing his purpose
– which is to be conformed to his own image. Instead, he invades our
subconscious with preconscious longings and urgings which are manifested in the
conscious desire to pray, seeking his desires for us.
But
what about those groanings? What’s Paul talking about? Perhaps they’re the preconscious
longings which God eventually articulates through us in helping us to put into
words what he wants us to pray. It’s not that the intercession is done for us,
because that would deny our cooperation with the Lord for which we were
created. It’s just that when we feel the need to pray, but still don't know how
or what to pray, he provides that also. His purpose is to bring our desires
into alignment with his desires so we can ask for that which will be part of
all things working together for our good. Here’s an African doctor’s own words that
demonstrate, in a very real way, what Isaiah was saying. Here’s what the doctor
had to say:
One night I had worked hard to help a mother in the labor ward; but in spite
of all we could do, she died, leaving us with a tiny, premature baby and a
crying two-year-old daughter. We would have difficulty keeping the baby alive;
as we had no incubator and we had no electricity to run an incubator. We also
had no special feeding facilities. Although we lived on the equator, nights
were often chilly with treacherous drafts. One student midwife went for the box
we had for such babies and the cotton wool that the baby would be wrapped in. Another
went to stoke up the fire and fill a hot water bottle. She came back shortly in
distress to tell me that in filling the bottle, it had burst (rubber perishes
easily in tropical climates). 'And it is our last hot water bottle!' she
exclaimed.
As in the West, it is no good crying over spilled milk, so in Central
Africa it might be considered no good crying over burst water bottles. They do
not grow on trees, and there are no drugstores down forest pathways. 'All
right,' I said, 'put the baby as near the fire as you safely can, and sleep between
the baby and the door to keep it free from drafts. Your job is to keep the baby
warm.' The following noon, as I did most days, I went to have prayers with many
of the orphanage children who chose to gather with me. I gave the youngsters
various suggestions of things to pray about and told them about the tiny baby. I
explained our problem about keeping the baby warm enough, mentioning the hot
water bottle, and that the baby could so easily die if it got chills. I also
told them of the two-year-old sister, crying because her mother had died.
During prayer time, one ten-year-old girl, Ruth, prayed with the usual
blunt conciseness of our African children. 'Please, God' she prayed, 'Send us a
hot water bottle today. It'll be no good tomorrow, God, as the baby will be
dead, so please send it this afternoon.' While I gasped inwardly at the
audacity of the prayer, she added, 'And while You are about it, would You
please send a dolly for the little girl so she'll know You really love her?'
As often with children's prayers, I was put on the spot. Could I honestly
say 'Amen?' I just did not believe that God could do this. Oh, yes, I know that
he can do everything; the Bible says so. But there are limits, aren't there? The
only way God could answer this particular prayer would be by sending me a
parcel from the homeland. I had been in Africa for almost four years at that
time, and I had never, ever received a parcel from home. Anyway, if anyone did
send me a parcel, who would put in a hot water bottle? I lived on the equator!
Halfway through the afternoon, while I was teaching in the nurses'
training school, a message was sent that there was a car at my front door. By
the time I reached home, the car had gone, but there on the veranda was a large
22 pound parcel. I felt tears pricking my eyes. I could not open the parcel
alone, so I sent for the orphanage children. Together we pulled off the string,
carefully undoing each knot. We folded the paper, taking care not to tear it
unduly. Excitement was mounting. Some thirty or forty pairs of eyes were
focused on the large cardboard box. From the top, I lifted out
brightly-colored, knitted jerseys. Eyes sparkled as I gave them out. Then there
were the knitted bandages for the leprosy patients, and the children looked a
little bored. Then came a box of mixed raisins and sultanas - that would make a
batch of buns for the weekend.
Then, as I put my hand in again, I felt the......could it really be? I
grasped it and pulled it out. Yes, a brand new, rubber hot water bottle. I
cried. I had not asked God to send it; I had not truly believed that he could.
Ruth was in the front row of the children. She rushed forward, crying out, 'If
God has sent the bottle, he must have sent the dolly, too!' Rummaging down to
the bottom of the box, she pulled out the small, beautifully-dressed dolly. Her
eyes shone! She had never doubted! Looking up at me, she asked, 'Can I go over
with you and give this dolly to that little girl, so she'll know that Jesus
really loves her?' 'Of course,' I replied. That parcel had been on the way for
five whole months, packed up by my former Sunday school class, whose leader had
heard and obeyed God's prompting to send a hot water bottle, even to the
equator. And one of the girls had put in a dolly for an African child – five
months before, in answer to the believing prayer of a ten-year-old to bring it
'that afternoon.'
Life goes better with
prayer.
Grace,
Randy
No comments:
Post a Comment