God, You know...

How would you finish this sentence? "Prayer is not a matter of giving God information about our needs. Instead, prayer is ________________________."

Yes, that's it. Prayer IS. Really, it's that simple. Remember back in elementary school (grammar school for us really old ones) when you first learned about "is"? "Is" is the present tense "state of being." State of being? Talk about a definition being more confusing than the word itself. Maybe Bill Clinton had it right. "That depends on what you happen to believe 'is' is" or something like that.

Prayer offers the same kind of Bill Clinton-ish conundrum for me. It may be easier to define what it is not rather than what it is.  I've read before from Philip Yancey where he says, "Prayer is not a matter of giving God new information." I can even see him saying that with a little grin and modest chiding mixed in.  How silly we humans are. In our attempt to bare our souls to the one who made our souls, we act like we're on a long distance phone call talking about the weather rather than speaking to and expecting to hear from the One who already knows our darkest secrets, deepest pain and illusive dreams. In Matthew 6:8 Jesus says, "Your Father knows what you need before you ask him." But James says in James 4:2, "You have not because you ask not." We're told elsewhere to pray without ceasing and in another place that even our groans can be taken as prayer.

When I hear about a new school shooting or how a Nigerian immigrant was murdered on the streets of Charlotte by her pimp boyfriend, how else can I respond? I groan, sometimes audibly, sometimes silently. I don't need words. God knows. I'm just finding out. He's known all along. He's writing the drama; I am merely a player learning my lines...or forgetting my lines...or mixing up my lines.

So I am back to the beginning. Prayer IS. A state of being. Our constancy with him. Our recognition of his direction at all times. Our willingness to respond to his ever-present prompts.

My Constant Sorrow

Mention some experiences with prayer that remain disappointing or frustrating to you.

When I began this challenge of mine, to follow a prayer journaling guide, I vowed to answer each question and not skip. The purpose was to build discipline as a writer. But I wanted to skip this one. In fact as of last night I was determined to dodge this one and had already turned a page or two in the guide to see if the next questions might unlock something less unsettling. But the truth is, now is the time to share this disappointment which I call, after the song, My Constant Sorrow.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GDA708XlFIo&feature=related

Last summer I received a long, long email from my son, a grown man with a family of his own. In this email he enumerated a long, long list of my failures as a father, some going back to when he was very, very young and some as recent as my last email to him. At the end of this long, long list, he gave me three ways to respond, and then explained how if I chose any of the three, I would be wrong. I was being disowned by my own son, my only son. I was being divorced from his family. He didn't have the time, energy or need to work on our relationship. He was through.

As one might imagine, this was devastating news. It's not that there wasn't some truth in his list of charges, but taken as an entirety, it certainly was not a fair picture of me as a father. I felt falsely accused even as I felt shame, remorse and sadness for those items which were in fact, or in his perception, true. Why have you forsaken me?

In the beginning I'm sure I prayed everyday--for my son, his wife, their marriage, their children, my grandchildren, to soften their hearts, that they know and show the Lord's forgiveness, that they know joy but mostly that they not forsake me in their lives. I waited for some sign, an email, a phone message or even a text. Over the next eight months the silence has continued. I've sent emails with no reply, gifts with no acknowledgment, and prayers seemingly with no results.

Lord, my son is a follower of yours. He says he has learned to deal with his anger but his words were so filled with rage. He seems unable to forgive. He is unwilling to even talk. Mine is a prayer without ceasing yet has no reply. A constant sorrow.

Last year my father died. What I miss the most is the sound of his voice. In the same year, I seem to have lost my son. What I miss most is the sound of his voice. God, I miss them both.

A High Priest Forever

Since we have a great high priest who has gone through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are--yet was without sin. Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need. Hebrews 4:14-16

What are some weaknesses in your own life, for which you need Christ's mercy and grace?

Is this another trick question, Mr. Yancey? Are you really asking me to pinpoint some personal weaknesses that need to be washed in the blood of the Lamb? Is there a blog long enough or a band width wide enough? OK, you said "some," not "all." So I'll pick three: being a husband, being a father and being a leader.

My daughter asked me the other day whether God was really sitting on a throne all the time, which is a really significant and thoughtful question when you think about it. I attempted to answer, thinking about the pictures we have in our minds of, say, King Henry sitting there majestically as a conqueror or two stroll in from the outer reaches of the territory with some bag of riches or golden ring to fling at the base of the throne. The King is holding court; he is receiving visitors and he is settling debts. But obviously, the king doesn't sit on his throne all day long. He'd need a break. After all, a king, especially like King Henry, had many more personal things on his mind. That's what is so amazing about this scripture from Hebrews. We may come to His throne of grace confidently and on our time-table, not His. At our beck and call, He waits, ready to open court and mount His throne to hear our weary cries for mercy, ready to settle our debts (forgive our sins) and dispense His grace.

So, back to my weaknesses:
As a husband, I do not often "love my wife as Christ loved the church." I wish I did but this is one to lay at the base of the throne and ask God's mercy. Jesus was willing to lay down his very life for those he loved; I often cannot even say "I'm sorry."

As a father, I "exasperate my children," which I'm not supposed to do. My anger can snap to attention as fast as Gomer Pyle. Raising children, as I have now attempted for nearly 40 years, needs His grace, His provision. I cannot do it alone.

As a leader, I have not always led with integrity. I've let personal idols get in the way and have not sought the voice of God but relied on my own God-given talents, thinking they were really mine.

But I love the way God works. Just yesterday I pulled out the words to a song I'd written recently and began to apply a new chord sequence. I had written the lyrics almost verbatim from Hebrews 6 and had titled it A High Priest Forever and then today this writing assignment. Hmmm.

Thank you, Father.

Amen.