pray anything?
I haven’t received one “yes” to a prayer in five years.
Clarity about whether to leave California? Guidance about which professional avenues to explore? Opportunities to be proactive and positive in a negative situation? Improvement of my physical health? A spiritual breakthrough with an atheist boyfriend?
Nyet.
On the other hand, I’ve received many blessings I never asked for: the health and safety of my loved ones. A good church and new friends in Nashville. More freelance work than I really have time for.
Needless to say, this causes me to ask questions.
For one, was I asking for the wrong things? They all seem like healthy and God-honoring requests to me.
And was I asking with the wrong motives? I don’t think so.
If asking is okay, and I asked for good reasons, and still I receive no answers (or “no” answers), we arrive at my latest question: Should I bother?
Perhaps I’m just going to get what I’m going to get—which is certainly more than I deserve, and certainly God’s prerogative. In that case, the goal becomes gratitude in spite of his apparent silence. And that means daily opportunities to grow in patience and maturity……which is probably what I should have been asking for the whole time.
My dad once told me God’s no answers are often the prelude to a yes we never could have imagined. If that’s true, I’m more than ready for the next movement.
take nine
Two weeks ago today, I and 20,000 of my closest friends spent hours watching segments of “The Nines,” 9+ hours—beginning at 9:09 am on 09/09/09—of videos from some of the evangelical world’s most influential voices. Each “speaker” had just nine minutes to answer the question, “If you could say one thing to Christian leaders, what would it be?”
Of course, some went over nine minutes, and there was a lot of alliteration and three-part outlines. But my favorite was this simple but powerful one by Skye Jethani, the managing editor of Leadership Journal. If someone asked me the question, I’d probably just reply, “What Skye said.” He has three points, but they’re good ones—and only eight minutes, too!
“the message” meets the hymnal
I’m always pleasantly surprised by the simple but effective ideas my church comes up with for meaningful worship. Perhaps churches without instruments try harder? More likely we’ve just been blessed with leaders who understand that thoughtful and on-theme don’t have to mean expensive and complex.
Before singing When I Survey at a recent mid-week service, the worship leader and I read a short “rewrite” of each of the hymn’s four verses. The reading set the traditional hymn in a fresh context, causing us to think about the familiar words in a new way. It was effective for the listeners, I hope, and certainly helpful for us as leaders of the experience.
It’s also easy—I wrote the one below in 10 minutes, start to finish. And as a public service to every worship leader who’s avoided verse two because of fifth grade boys who giggle at “raising their Ebenezer,” I selected Come Thou Fount. I’m on your side, folks.
Source of all blessings, help me to praise you. Your mercy always pours over me, and you deserve big thanks, loud thanks. Thank you! Teach me how to worship you. There is no one but you who deserves my worship. You have redeemed and loved me.
I proclaim your victory and help! I know you will continue to guide me until I leave this earth and meet you. After all, you loved me when I was just a stranger to you, and you died to rescue me from my mistakes.
So I am in debt to your grace. Your goodness is overwhelming. Even though I still have a sinful heart, help me, God; help me to follow your goodness and not wander away to follow my own paths. Here’s my heart. It is all yours. Protect it and keep it.
things I don’t understand, part 4
The people who meander through the middle of a crowded mall, airport or movie theater and just STOP in the middle of the stream, looking around with confused faces, oblivious to the human traffic piling up behind them. Bonus points if they run over toes with strollers or suitcases.
The biathlon. Does anyone except Jason Bourne need to ski cross-country while shooting a rifle?
Becoming a proctologist. The money must be great.
Why Subway puts oil and vinegar all over their subs, then gives you one napkin.
Parents who constantly holler at their kids for being kids—i.e. curious, talkative, busy. Start saving now for their therapy.
Those ducks people dress up and place outside their front doors.
Joining “causes” on Facebook. Am I missing the way this is helping?
Pastors who think it’s a good idea to have their son as associate pastor, wife as women’s ministry director, daughter as children’s director, etc……and the elders who allow it.
Why the ice cream truck in my neighborhood played “Silent Night” all summer.
Beauty pageants.
Beauty pageants for girls under 18.
Beauty pageants for girls under 8.
More here.
OOMFITYSK–#4
David and Nancy Guthrie are two more Friends I Think You Should Know. In 1998 the Guthries welcomed a new baby, Hope, who was born with the very rare Zellweger Syndrome and lived only seven months. Despite taking medical steps to prevent future pregnancies, the couple again beat the odds and conceived Gabriel who was born in 2001—again, with Zellwegers. He lived six months.
It would be easy to ask why, to question God, and to lose faith in His goodness, and the Guthries have certainly done their share of wrestling. But eight years later they’ve transformed this pain into resources that help others, including the books Holding on to Hope: A pathway through suffering to the heart of God and Hearing Jesus Speak into Your Sorrow.
This past weekend David and Nancy added another tool for grieving parents with their first Respite retreat. Parents from around the country who have lost a child gathered at a retreat center north of Nashville for several days of remembering, sharing, praying, and connecting with others who understand their pain. Many of the attendees wrote the Guthries this week admitting their initial reluctance to participate in the experience and the huge blessing they ended up receiving. “Being in a room with trees as tall as the sky all around us and voices being lifted up to our Lord in worship brought great healing and peace,” said one. “The Lord met us in that place as we shared our painful stories. We could lift our sorrows, our questions, and our hopes to the Father who continues to carry us in these days.”
David and Nancy have been “movers and shakers” in the publishing and music industries, but that’s not why I’m glad to know them or why I want you to. They’re Friends I Think You Should Know because they know God in deep ways and have struggled with questions most of us would rather avoid.
They have four spots open for their next Respite retreat; if you or someone you know is dealing with the loss of a child you can find out more here. And don’t miss the really excellent Time magazine article about their journey that was published July 16, 2001—the day their second child with Zellwegers entered the world.
group thinking
As thrilling as my Labor Day activities are (a long nap on the couch and vacuuming up wallpaper scraps from a weekend extravaganza of DIY), I keep thinking about a Facebook conversation last week. On Friday, I realized it had been several years since I’d participated in a small group and I didn’t miss it at all. I posted this thought on Facebook and Twitter to see if others agreed or if I was a spiritual leper, and got a mixture of responses.
One insightfully pointed out that introverts like me don’t feel the need for this kind of enforced togetherness as much as more extroverted temperaments do, but it’s still important.
Another agreed that if you have a healthy support system of friends and read the Bible on your own, a group’s not necessary.
Others said perhaps we should focus on what we bring to a group rather than what we get from it; one lamented this perspective as the churchy argument of small group gurus, another kindly defended it.
I’ve written about this issue before; when I joined a group in California a few years ago it struck me I already had a small group of close friends to “do life with” and wasn’t likely to build similar relationships with a gaggle of acquaintances over discussions of John Ortberg books and lukewarm soda.
I still feel that way, but last week’s FB conversation showed I am not just pragmatic, I’m selfish—because I don’t want to give up 2-4 hours a week to “be a blessing” in a group I get nothing from. I’m not interested in praying for your son’s friend’s mother’s job, or hearing you tell a group member every week that they need to “just trust God,” or listening as someone pontificates her opinions about the assigned chapter she didn’t read.
“The bottom line for me is that, as Christians, we are all part of the body of Christ,” wrote the small groups supporter on Facebook. “No matter how flawed we may be, we need to stick together and find some way to be connected with other Christians…it doesn’t have to be the same for everyone…it might be a small group, a Sunday school class, a service group, the list goes on…but we shouldn’t be out there all by ourselves, even if we think we are fine.”
I can’t argue with that, but I also refuse to spend another night of my life forcing artificial community with strangers. I think the solution is LTGs.
Neil Cole, author of Organic Church, Search and Rescue and Organic Leadership, has built a church planting movement around these Life Transformation Groups. Each group has just two or three members of the same gender, and each member reads lots of scripture (around 30 chapters each week), confesses his sins to the others, and prays with them for others who need Christ.
Like so many other things, this idea’s simplicity is its effectiveness. A focus on Scripture—not study guides or “Christian living” books—can challenge anyone from day-old believers to lifetime Christians. Very small groups force authenticity and provide accountability. Confession and prayer cut through Christian cliche and forge the “bonding” small group pastors long for.
It’s a back to basics approach that allows people of every spiritual maturity level to grow deeper, and to do it in community. It’s also the only type of group I’ll consider participating in. Now that I’ve alienated every publisher of small group material, I’ll go back to my Labor Day.
do overs
Which year of your life would you most like to live over again because it was great? And which year would you most like to live again so you could do things differently?
I’d love to re-live my senior year in college. My three closest friends and I had a two-room suite at the end of a hallway in the best dorm on campus. (One of the perks of having an RA as a roommate. The downside was we also had chores during fire drills.) I’ve never laughed so hard in my life or had so much innocent fun, which is the only kind you can have in western PA. It starts snowing in October and goes strong until April.
On the other hand, I’d like to re-do 2005 for some other reasons. Personally, professionally, emotionally, even physically—I’d make completely different choices knowing what I know now.
We don’t get a shot at either do-over, of course, but thinking about it can yield some good insights, maybe even some helpful discussions. Which years would you pick, and why?
Jennifer Taylor
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