Prayer and Love Yet Again

Devotional Classics, Jean-Nicholas Grou, Excerpts from How to Pray

"Love God and you will always be speaking to him. The seed of love is growth in prayer. If you do not understand that, you have never yet either loved or prayed." (p.140)

The phrase "Love God and you will always be speaking to him" lacks a lot of definition and specifics, but I believe it captures the heart of prayer. This idea has nourished a number of people as they seek God, especially when they find that their words fall so short of what lives within them. In one way, this seems to say loving God is speaking to him.

This is not so mysterious, nor even so incredibly mystical if I think about it. The supportive presence of a loved one in the room with me can be more than someone speaking words of comfort in dark days. When someone watches and delights deeply in something I do or say, I can often tell how deeply they are touched by little they say. Being overcome by feeling or passion seems to move me beyond words.

What is intimidating about this idea of loving God is that I cannot control my feelings directly. Yet I have found that my thoughts influence my feelings. True to what Dallas Willard writes about in Renovation of the Heart, thoughts and feelings are inextricably joined, so I can control my feelings indirectly by changing the direction of my thoughts. This is why pondering and delighting in choice phrases from the Bible is great preparation for prayer. The redirection of my mind toward the things of God inflame feelings of love, awe, joy, etc. in God.

I find that some thoughts are so powerful, they can nourish my heart with love and joy and peace for weeks on end. I do not have to constantly be trying to have new thoughts and new feelings when I am still feasting richly on one that carries me through the days. I remember on bit of advice about this, but I can't remember who said it. When reading and pondering the Bible, stop at the place where you are heavily affected or drawn to and let it do its work before moving on. This has helped me to truly delight in the word of God - scripture that truly speaks to me. Such words or phrases become a "watchword" for the day or longer.

When prayer becomes dry and empty, it is not a reason to panic, however. But if I learn to accept prayer as dry and empty, then there is reason to panic. Although everyone goes through dry "wilderness" times of prayer, those who love God ache and call out to him, while those who do not love God or understand it continue on in formality or just give up.

As prayer grows - and in my experience prayer grows deeper, affecting me more and more inwardly - it seeds a love for God that sprouts into my everyday existence. If prayer does not yield this kind of love for God, and eventually for other people, it is mere formality.

Another way to understand "Love God and you will always be speaking to him" is to say when I am loving God, then I will always be speaking to him. This is true as well, since love expresses itself. When someone is with me, even in silence, their face and hands can show love and will show love even if they are not speaking. Often, they will speak as well - maybe not a lot, but enough.

And so, I find that another way to hold the love of God before myself is to speak to him throughout the day. Often the phrases will be simple. It may be "Help" or just "Lord." It may be "Be near to me" or "Have mercy." I may talk to him about my kids or sing to him what's on my heart. Obviously this is akin to what I wrote about above, and for good reason. Those whom I love have my attention, my feelings, as well as much of my words. I share with them.

Silence can come from awe and deep feeling. It can also come from boredom, confusion, or derision. Silence that expresses love starts from the inside as calmness and serenity or at least a desire to not hurt someone. It pours out into my life. Whereas silence that is not love is imposed from the outside while my innards churn or boil with worry, anger, or lust. It seems to me that such silence comes from fear or anger. The words that eventually come from silence quickly determine its origin and purpose.

This is all to say that prayer that does not involve my heart - the very center of my being - is not really prayer at all. Words and feelings that move me toward God with love, these are prayers. I may begin by feeling "flat," but often I find I warm up to him and long to hear from him as I go on. It may be the most important attitude is hope, an anticipation of God's meeting me and the love that comes from that meeting.

Lord, today is one of those days in which I struggle to meet with you. Depression has crept in and I have sought distractions instead of your presence. I find on days like this that I resist speaking to you because I do not believe your love for me. I worry that you will be like so many people I meet, tying heavy burdens, placing them on my back, and not lifting a finger to help me. Pull me out of this mire. Let me see you for who you really are.

For as high as the heavens are above the earth,

so great is his love for those who fear him;

as far as the east is from the west,

so far has he removed our transgressions from us;

as a father has compassion on his children,

so does the Lord have compassion on those who fear him. (Ps. 103:11-13) Amen.

The mechanics of prayer are not so difficult as the spirit of prayer. I do not find that actually praying is so hard as actually wanting to pray. Fear and anger are deeply embedded in my life from years of being both the giver and receiver of them. Love does not come naturally, but flows from a continual diet of learning and remembering God's goodness and his loving deeds. Today I need to remember that God is not a burden, but a redeemer, come to set me free.

Prayer and Exercising Faith

Devotional Classics, Martin Luther, Excerpts from Table Talk, etc.

"We should pray by fixing our mind upon some pressing need, desiring it with all earnestness, and then exercise faith and confidence toward God in the matter, never doubting that we have been heard." (p.133)

This matter of faith in prayer seems difficult. Is it merely positive thinking? Mind over matter? Perhaps much can be learned from this popular idea, if it is really taken seriously. What I mean is that mind is over matter because the Mind preceded Matter. God's intent and word preceded Creation of all kinds of matter - earthly and heavenly.

From a series of talks given by Dallas Willard (The Kingdom of God), I see that if I am to understand prayer in faith, I first must understand that everything exists because God made it and he made it be his words. "By faith we understand that the universe was formed at God's command, so that what is seen was not made out of what was visible." (Heb. 11:3)

This existence I have was not only created by God through his words, but is sustained and ordered by his word. "He is before all things, and in him all things hold together." (Col. 1:17) "Your word, O Lord, is eternal; it stands firm in the heavens. Your faithfulness continues through all generations; you established the earth, and it endures." (Ps. 119:89-90) So words make things happen in this universe. Certainly God's words, but also words with faith in God.

Faith or believing begins with understanding, but goes far beyond it. Believing accepts and adopts an understanding and makes it one's own. Faith is not a distant thought, but an urgent reality that presses in on me. I cannot try to believe something; I simply do or don't. My life illustrates my faith. People of faith in the Bible are often desperate people, willing to do anything to touch Jesus or beg from him.

I guess prayer, as I have often defined it, seems to remove this element of desperation often because "God is always there." Somehow this assurance can remove faith from my prayer. How? While there are no special rituals or feelings or words to make God do what I want him to, for my faith in God to be active may take more than just assuming that "God's there," it takes some form of longing and communication.

If prayer is more like a conversation and less like a slot machine, there has to be some way of finding that I have truly connected with God when I am speaking. No doubt he is "there," but are we really talking and sharing? When I ask my kids to do something, I need to be assured there is connection, or I might as well be "talking into the air."

So this faith transcends the "mind over matter" principle because it has to do with a relationship far more than with the internal state of my thoughts and feelings. Certainly, my thoughts and feelings will be fully involved, but their object will not be only be what I desire and how to get it, but who I am asking. His love is the most important part, but also I need to have a better sense of who I am asking and what he can really do.

How does one "exercise faith. . . toward God" as Luther says? Partly by just doing it. But there may be some other kinds of exercises that may increase faith, like weight lifting can enable better ability in a sport. One thing can be listening to God regularly. He tells me things that will increase my faith. Another is studying and remembering the Bible, not by "naming it and claiming it," but by reading each account as what could happen to anyone - even me! Another is to ask for faith from God. Reading any Gospel can bring many ideas of how to increase faith, since that is what Jesus came to do and what the Gospels are for. "These are written that you may believe. . . ." (Jn. 20:31)

Lord, would that I had the faith as big as a mustard seed! I see that faith is given more than developed, but I also see that you long to give faith to me and I need to learn how to receive it. I am slow to understand and do not see you rightly. May I work and act in faith and see your love and power revealed. May I stop trying to believe and begin to exercise my faith both directly and indirectly. Amen.

Really, life provides a perfect place for faith to grow. There are moments that call (or scream) for faith, for me to speak or act on the assumption that God really does care and that he really can do anything. There are moments in which I can work on faith indirectly by waiting on God, delighting in the scriptures, or repenting of my unbelief. God grant me the focus to seek such faith!

Dead Prayers

Devotional Classics, Martin Luther, Excerpts from Table Talk, etc.

"'Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks find, and to him who knocks the door will be opened. Which of you, if his son asks for a loaf of bread will give him a stone? Or is he asks for a fish will give him a snake? If you, then, who are evil know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him?' (Mt. 7:6-10)

"Are we so hard of heart that these words of Jesus do not move us to pray with confidence, joyfully and gladly? So many of our prayers must be reformed if we are to pray according to these words. To be sure, all of the churches across the land are filled with people praying and singing, but why is it that there is so little improvement, so few results from so many prayers? The reason is none other than the one Jesus speaks of when he says, 'You ask and you do not receive because you ask amiss' (Ja. 4:3) For where this faith and confidence is not in the prayer, the prayer is dead. (p.134)

The very last sentence is what grabs me. The possibility of a prayer being dead fills me with alarm. And yet, how else could Luther or I explain what we see around us? God promises lavish provision and, even in churches, there is great need and misery.

Not that I would expect a life without difficulty or suffering in this present evil age, but I would expect a people joyful and glad with confidence in their prayers and in their worship, as Luther writes. It is not the lack of "answered prayers" that makes me think prayer is dead, but that for all the answers received there is so little improvement and so few results in churches. (These are not my words only, but most people and many sociological studies reflect the same sort of thing.)

My most remarkable dead prayers have been ones where God answers, but I am looking the other way entirely. My prayer is not dead because God is unwilling to answer because I have not gritted my teeth and held my breath in "faith" in just the right way. My prayer is dead because it slips away into forgetfulness because I did not really care much about it and have moved on to some favored distraction or because I am looking for a particular kind of answer and God has something else, something better in mind.

This can be seen plainly in the prayers of the Jewish people in the first century. They were oppressed by the Roman government and prayed earnestly for deliverance. God sent them deliverance from Rome and so much more in Jesus, but because it was not in the way or time they expected, they refused his provision. Could this be the same problem for the churches that Luther talks about? Perhaps this lack of confidence and faith creates a blind rush towards our desires and away from God's intended provision. It's probably why James continues in 4:3 with how we ask amiss: "that you may spend what you get on your pleasures."

How many times have I been the same way? Do I pray for bodily pains to leave me without looking for sins that may be causing them? Do I look for fellowship with other people without practicing the gifts he's given me to build up such a fellowship? Do I pray for other people to be kinder and easier to live with when I am unwilling to become the very thing I pray for? Perhaps many prayers lie on the floor if my life, dead from misuse and resistance to God's loving provision more than remaining unanswered.

Perhaps many of God's answers to my prayers do not simply scratch an itch I have, but cure the disease of which I am only concerned with a symptom. Perhaps God's answers always go a bit deeper than I would like into the needs of my life. Yes, there will be praise and "Amens" for God's great deeds and kindness. Perhaps I also need a bit of reflection and action related to God's answer to benefit fully.

Lord, I see that many of the things you want to give me, I have refused for a long time. My prayers were dead because my trust in you was lacking. I have become like the ungrateful servant who buried his talent because he did not trust his Master. How have I buried my prayers and your answers like this, out of mistrust? Too often I am unwilling to trust and obey, so your answers pass me by or at least lie unused. Forgive me. Lead me aright. Amen.

This reminds me that it is dangerous to pray and not live out the prayer. I find it easy to pray and forget rather than let my prayers move out into my life. As I remarked from Douglas Steere a while back, "If we ignore these leadings, they poison future prayer." I do not think God leads me into unceasing frantic activity (that I get from myself and other people), but I find prayer changes me and encourages me to change, sometimes in small ways, sometimes in large ways. To leave such changes unimplemented inoculates me against hearing God later.

Faith moves me to implement answered prayer like a man who sells everything to get a field with buried treasure in it. Following my own desires moves me to dread and resist God's direction given in prayer and so improvement and results in my life with God become scarce. When the answers are not what I hoped for or seem absent, I need to reflect on God's goodness and love and set aside my fears of losing things I don't really want anyway.

Prayer and Petition

Devotional Classics, Martin Luther, Excerpts from Table Talk, etc.

"Prayer is made vigorous by petitioning; urgent by supplication; by thanksgiving, pleasing and acceptable." (p.133)

I do find it easy to muddy the waters of some things that have simple explanations. Ina n effort to go "deeper" I am sometimes merely confusing, even to myself. Prayer is a subject that easily goes awry in this way.

Prayer is asking. Luther has some straightforward advice about how to ask in a good way so my prayer will reach God and so God can reach me.

"Petition is stating what we have at heart." Luther says to bring life to prayer, my prayers must be specific and personal, addressing my real concerns and worries. I find a great help to petition is "talking normally" with God, avoiding ideas and hopes that are "too lofty" and sticking with present needs and desires. The normal talk seems to keep things real for me.

"In supplication we strengthen prayer and make it effective by a certain form of persuasion." To aid in supplication, I find two things helpful. One is a regular diet of Psalms to remind me of the many facets of God's kindness, love, mercy, and power. Another is actual positioning of my body. Kneeling, opening or closing eyes, or lifting my hands can greatly enhance this supplication that Luther speaks of.

I do not think that supplication makes God do anything as if words and motions were some sort of incantation. Rather I find that using all my mind and all my strength in loving God reflects the sort of faith I have in him as a personally interactive God, having conversations with me, rather than just receiving my requests like an order at a fast food restaurant. I try to give prayers as I think they are received by him, with thoughtfulness and passion, a divine urgency.

Finally, thanksgiving. When thanksgiving surrounds my prayer, I feel peace about what God is doing and will do about my prayer. For thanksgiving, I will often recall how God has been faithful to me, someone close to me, or even to someone in the Bible. His faithfulness in the past enables me to thank him in the present even when I do not yet have what I have asked for.

Thanksgiving makes all requests pleasing. A request from a grateful child contrasts from a spoiled child in its thanksgiving. When gratitude is missing, I find that a new request is made before the last provision has even been enjoyed. The eye is on getting more, rather than on enjoying what has been given. This has its mirror in my prayers as well. I try to stuff something else in my mouth while I'm still chewing on what God gave me before.

So thankfulness works best for me when I pause and think of how God is good. Reflection is good fuel for thanksgiving. Just a few moments of silence before I begin to ask for things can really frame my whole prayer into love and adoration instead or whining and complaining.

Lord, would that I were more simple in my heart before you. My thoughts get in the way sometimes. They are important, I know, but not as important as just coming to you when I need something, knowing that you are dying to help me in any way you can. Let my thoughts bring me closer to you, so a childlike heart will be natural for me. Amen.

Really just asking more would help me a lot. I think a lot, praise a lot, but forget to ask for much. To this Luther writes, "If you do not know or recognize your needs, you are in the worst possible place. The greatest trouble we can ever know is thinking that we have no trouble for we have become hardened and insensible to what is inside us." (p.134)

Prayer and the Hidden God

Devotional Classics, John Ballie, A Dairy of Private Prayer

"Almighty and eternal God,
You are hidden from my sight,
You are beyond the understanding of my mind:
Your thoughts are not as my thoughts:
Your ways are past finding out." (p.127)

The world around me makes God plain to see. His willingness to answer prayer encourages me. His instruction moves me to greater obedience and love. Who is more present than God?

And yet, he is hidden. I have heard a good deal these days about God's scarcity. For many people he seems to have disappeared, even in the moment of their greatest need. This wilderness may change my life profoundly, but often the wilderness comes not from God's making, but my own. I isolate myself from him.

Yet the One who is "hidden from my sight," as Baillie puts it, is not usually hidden due to some "dark night of the soul" nor even because of my own sins. God's secrecy comes from his greatness and my own limitation in understanding him. God "hides" behind the smallness of my mind, and more, the smallness of my heart.

The famous passage Isaiah 55:7 "For my ways are not your ways, and my thoughts are not your thoughts" is preceded by his unfathomable pity on me: "Let him call on the Lord and he will have mercy, and to our God, for he will freely pardon." The passage culminates in a glorious promise, "You will go out with joy and be led forth with peace. The mountains and the hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands."

So God sandwiches his thoughts between mercy and promise. In this way, my thoughts are a million miles away from his. I neither easily accept these thoughts and ways as ones that he could possibly have for me, nor do I imitate these sorts of thoughts often in my own life. Hidden in this passage is God's desire: that my thoughts would be his thoughts and my ways his ways.

I believe it was the Cloud of Unknowing that says that I cannot understand God with mind, nor will I ever, but I can understand God perfectly in my heart through love. I long to understand "what wondrous love is this, O my soul, O my soul!" Baillie continues this prayer in this way:

Yet You have breathed Your Spirit into my life:
Yet You have formed my mind to seek You:
Yet You have inclined my heart to love You:
Yet You have made me restless for the rest that is in You:
Yet You have planted within me a hunger and thirst that make me dissatisfied with all the joys of earth. (p.128)

I have many days when I wonder how God can put up with me. I can't even put up with myself. His pity and promise make my life something precious, worthy of the greatest speculation and wonder. God's hiding place may be for my growth or due to my hardness, but perhaps I am not looking high enough: "As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts." I look beneath him to ways and thoughts that do not befit One so loving and kind.

Lord, let me say, "I lift my eyes up to the mountains" (Ps. 121) because I seek thoughts and ways that are higher and better than my own. I do not think much of myself. I am not worth much in myself, ruined and wayward. The high price paid for me determines my worth. Today, let me lift my eyes up to that mountain, Golgotha, where my help comes from and where your thoughts and ways were revealed. Let me hear you say: "No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what I have prepared for you" (1 Cor.2:9) as I cling to that cross. Amen.

On days like today, I need to find a way to have the Lord's thoughts before me. Pondering is good. Prayer is better. But often the words cannot find their way into my heart. They stay before me, but out of reach. I feel lonely. Perhaps a trip to the cross is what I need; the image may help the idea to sink in deeper.

Prayer and Peace and Thankfulness

Devotional Classics, John Baillie, A Diary of Private Prayer

"O God my Creator and Redeemer, I may not go forth today except You accompany me with Your blessing. Let not the vigor and freshness of the morning, or the glow of good health, or the present prosperity of my undertakings, deceive me into a false reliance upon my own strength. . . . Only in continued dependence on You, the Giver, can they be worthily enjoyed." (p.127)

"No king is saved by the size of his army;

no warrior escapes by his great strength.

A horse is a vain hope for deliverance;

despite all its great strength it cannot save.

But the eyes of Lord are on those who fear him,

on those whose hope is in his unfailing love." (Ps. 33:16-18)

Well-being is in the greeting of Paul's letters and also in the Jewish greeting of Shalom. It is the heart of peace. It is at the heart of what Julian of Norwich's words, "All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well." This well-being is located in the "peace that passes understanding" (Php. 4).

My well-being, my peace is often located within pleasant turns of events. Narrow escapes and triumphant victories can heighten my sense of well-being into a sense of exultation, joy, and power. I suppose this is why various forms of amusement can help calm me. Even in the midst of a mundane life full of disappointments, we can have a feeling of triumph from a movie, or a sport (not so much my thing), or a video game (much more my thing). Somehow this leaves a shadow of well-being in my life.

This peace is part of the blessing that only God can give. I can pretend to have peace and approximate its presence through various means of food, entertainment, etc. But it is a shallow peace quickly dispelled when real trouble comes. Perhaps this is one of the best indicators of "depth" in my spiritual life: the thin ribbon of entertainment and escape is quickly cut in difficulty, while the cords of real peace are stretched, but not broken.

I am glad that God gives so much more good than bad in life. The proof of it is in the gospel. No evil can swallow up that goodness. It makes all other gifts worthy of enjoyment instead of dependence. They become evidences of God's love and grace, but not sources of his grace. I guess that is why I am not to depend too much on "earthly things," because of my propensity to depend on them.

So thankfulness in prayer is important. Thankfulness for all the wonderful things that I enjoy and take for granted. Thankfulness for things that are pleasant surprises. It can help keep my eyes on the Giver more than the gifts. It can keep my hope on the Unfailing Lover and Sustainer rather than on the means used to save me. It helps, but often the thanks stops short of true dependence and true hope in the Lord.

I find my peace is tested and proved not by how much I give thanks for the good things, but how much I give thanks in all things. I don't think I need to be thankful for pain and suffering exactly, but thankful that such things can lead me to deeper peace and joy if I walk through them with God. James says that we can consider them "pure joy" because of what they yield - perseverance and maturity.

It seems that thankfulness that yields deep peace is accompanied by worship, prayer, generosity, etc. There is no such thing as a truly thankful miser or thief. Consequently, there is no such thing as a peaceful miser or thief either. So my thankfulness is often fairly shallow, and therefore, so is my peace and well-being.

I do not long for a stoic life where I am unaffected by either good or bad and try to achieve some sense of "peace" by saying nothing really matters. Instead, I want my prayers to be full of life and passion, whether happiness or sadness, so that I can have true peace, knowing, seeing, and experiencing God's unfailing love in all things.

Indifference is profound unthankfulness in the face of the wonders and challenges of this life. I can't think of a parent who would enjoy a child who did not care whether they were given a hug or a slap. We would think something was wrong with them. Why else would Jesus give us this example of prayer: "Lead us not into trials, but deliver us from evil." I long for what is good and that is right. The only truly good is God himself.

Lord, let my prayers be filled with a thankfulness that sees gifts as doorways to praise and trials as doorways to a deeper love for you. Let me not neglect the moments that come - good or bad - and forget to enter into your unfailing love. Let my peace be deep as my thankfulness. Let my prayers be offered from my very bowels and not just from my lips because of this sense of thankfulness and well-being. Help me to grow up, Lord. Amen.

I sure have a long way to go in this. I'm afraid that I often act quite spoiled, forgetting much of God's goodness in the face of relatively small difficulties. I've been given much; I shudder to think what might be expected of me. In practice, I want to learn how to bring praise, prayer, celebration, and offerings whenever I am especially thankful or especially hurting. I believe this concrete action may help deepen my thankfulness and help me to enter more easily into that "peace that passes understanding."

Prayer and Entering the Kingdom

Devotional Classics, John Ballie, A Diary of Private Prayer

"I give You thanks for this Your greatest gift.

For my Lord's days upon the earth:

For the record of His deeds of love:

For the words he spoke for my guidance and help:

For His obedience unto death:

For His triumph over death:

For the presence of His Spirit within me now:

I thank You, O God." (p.128)

Today, for these words I am grateful, Father. "I tell you the truth, no one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again." (John 3:3) May the truth of these words be a light in my darkness, a compass on my sea, a kind word in a crowd of criticism. Amen.

Gently, gently. I want to hold the Lord's words gently. They are not fragile, but they are of such power that to mishandle them can only result in great catastrophe, while to hold them aright will result in great salvation. I long to hold His words as a precious treasure to my heart.

His reply in this passage to Nicodemus is his reply to me. I come thinking that I have him figured out. "We know you are. . . ." The words come so easily. I see Jesus. I read about His life and His deeds. But You say, "No one can see. . ." We are blind. Completely ignorant. I may think I am a great teacher in some area, but here I am a novice, forever a beginner.

Jesus is the door, the way to the Kingdom, the reality of God. I see in Him and through Him the glory and grace of God spilling out onto the earth, onto the lives of those around me, onto myself. This is my only door up and out. He is the only door. There is no other way to view the kingdom. There is no way to peek over the walls or through the cracks. The gate of Jesus is the only way to see the glory of this Kingdom.

The gate is open! Just as Jesus arms are open to all who would come to Him. Only through Him can my spirit be made alive. Until then, I walk in the shadow lands. The kingdom remains a far-off glow without new eyes, new ears, and a new heart. The earth is a cold and unforgiving place without my spirit reborn.

"Unless he is born again." This is His word. This is His promise. That is why He had to send His Spirit. He had to have me and everyone else with Him. He knew I could not enter or even see His abiding place without a new life in me. This is His promise; I will send Him to you, your guide, your comforter, your reminder.

"Unless he is born again." This is His word. This is His warning. I cannot bypass Him. I cannot find another way without Him. I will not even see the Kingdom without His eyes and His life being birthed in me. I may try many other means, but in the end I will be left in the cold with my idols.

This is where prayer takes me: to see the Kingdom, to enter the Kingdom. Hearing the Spirit, though I do not know where He is coming from or where He is going. Prayer is marveling at what God has done and what He is doing now. It is putting my hand to the plow in the field He has given me in this Kingdom and not looking back. It is being homeless in this world, even friendless, but laying my head down next to His. Prayer is the song of pilgrims on the way to their journey's end.

Prayer is response to the wind that blows from God. The Spirit who brings us into the Kingdom of God by igniting each moment with God's presence, God's will, and God's intentions. It always catches me by surprise; I don't know where it comes from or where it is going. But I learn to hear. My ears are reborn too.

Lord, may my prayers be laid at Your feet as tears, as kisses, as fragrant perfume. I am in awe of Your words to me. They come in unexpected ways, teaching me to listen closely instead of trying to figure them all out. Let them be an invitation to Your feast more than a puzzle I try to solve. You meant them in love. Amen.

I see prayer as the dialect of this new Realm. It is the only one that can be spoken or understood. I come as a foreigner. My words are halting. My vocabulary small. The Spirit helps to interpret what I mean and tell me what I hear. The King's Son is my guide and friend. It is a pleasant place and I am only in the doorway. I long to see more of this land as the Spirit opens my eyes.