8 Words to Rescue Your Prayer Life

hard-to-pray1I suck at praying.

Perhaps no pastor struggles so seriously to humbly and persistently place himself at throne of grace as the fool penning this post.

In the realm of prayer, I am consistently inconsistent and faithfully unfaithful.

Don’t get me wrong: If I tell you that I will pray for you, my conscience will force me to do so. I’m not fake; I’m just weak.

Recently my desire to be a better pray-er has grown more desperate. I have been casting hooks into every pond I can find, in the hope of discovering some rhythm or technique that provide me a way forward. Journaling, silence, Lectio Divina, listening prayer, the daily office, prayer guides, praying scripture – if there is a way to try it, there is a way to screw it up. Trust me. On this I am an authority. Yet I am trying.

Suffice it to say that I am currently being guided by a prayer tool Intended to help me fall into a steady march (consistency), while also providing me words to pray (content).

Last night, I was given this phrase to pray:

“Let my bones be steeped in your love.”

Oh.

My.

Lord.

If a prayer life can be built around eight words, I may have just found them. For real. Here’s why I think you should also consider making this single sentence your own.

“Let my bones be steeped in your love.”

bones insideThere’s something unusually earthy about bones. When I was 19, I discovered a skeleton on a canoe trip. It was in a remote cave, and who knew how long it had been there! That’s the thing about bones. They last. A long time. Skin and tissue and muscle break down and fade away — and what gets left behind? Bones! Or consider cancer reports. News of spots or tumours or lumps can be followed up with optimism over treatment options. But sometimes the voice adds, “It’s moved to her bones.” Replies get quieter, if spoken at all. What gets into the bones is there to stay.

Beyond their resilience to decay, bones are wondrously and simultaneously lightweight and strong, fairly key qualities for an effective skeleton. Check out the inside of a bone, and you see part of the secret — they appear sponge-like, slightly resembling the porous center of a Crunchie bar.

“Let my bones be steeped in your love.”

steepingFor the vast majority of us, “steeping” is a tea term. It speaks of a soaking that extracts flavour or mixes substances. Within the prayer above, God’s love is part of the recipe. In fact, there are only two ingredients. The other? My bones!

My Crunchie-bar bones are to take their place in the vats of God’s love. A soaking is to take place, so intense in time and temperature that my inner texture and tone change — just as a wet sponge appears so obviously unlike a dry sponge. The soaking invites fullness and overflow. Something of God’s core — His faithful and enduring love — pours over me as I pore over it. Yet this “poring” is deeper than intellectual consideration, as if a few moments of thought might deliver me into the greatest mystery of the universe — divine love. Remember, this is “steeping”. Tea doesn’t try. Hot water doesn’t clutch and grab flavour and nutrients from the leaves it holds. Those same leaves don’t push and press to facilitate the transfer. Tea doesn’t strain. Tea just steeps. It settles in and sits. If tea breathed, it would breathe deeply and slowly, as if each breath had subtle yet sufficient power to help the steeping take place.

The whole prayer begins with “let”. There is recognition of a somewhat passive posture. We cannot make this happen. One cannot steep by force. It’s gifted and given, not even like a box one unwraps from which an item removed and enjoyed. Once again, this is steeping. Two substances unwind into each other, with surrender and vulnerability. An undoing takes place toward a “new doing”. This gift is given and opened insofar as we are given and opened.

“Let my bones be steeped in your love.”

Allow the core of my being, the lasting and living frame within the person that I am, steadily soak up the empowering and enabling reality of Your love, Father. Free me from “frantic” and insulate me from “insecure” by filling the cavities of my inner chambers with revelation of Your affectionate faithfulness.

“Let my bones be steeped in your love.”

Can eight words rescue your prayer life? That’s tough to say. Would you experience a rebirth of sorts if your bones were steeped in God’s love? That seems like a given. You’ve got one mouth. Now you’ve got one sentence. Perhaps you’re perfectly set up for what needs to happen next in your prayer life.

Steep away, my friends!

Zemanta Related Posts ThumbnailYOUR TURN: Your input makes this post better!

  • What have you tried in the way of “prayer experiments”? What helped? What didn’t?
  • Any particular prayers or phrases that help you focus?

[You can subscribe to this blog via RSS or email, in the upper right corner of this page. Or find me on Twitter: @JasonBandura.]

Six-Pack (69)

Welcome to the Six-Pack!

The weekend slipped by me, but I refuse to miss another Six-Pack post. Let’s get at it!

If a half-dozen links feels daunting, start with the *Picks of the Week*, and branch from there.

For a steady stream of such links, follow me on Twitter to the right of this post.  Sharp quotes and solid articles are tweeted 3-4 times daily.

Today’s edition:

1) The Quiet Strength of a Peaceful Leader (*PICK OF THE WEEK*)
Gordon MacDonald offers this beautiful — and unusual — perspective on leadership.

2)  When Elmer Refuses to Change
Sam Rainer considers the often prickly issue of change in churches.

3)  Culture Change: Recognize the Value of Small Groups
Lots of churches use Small Groups — some well, some less well. What’s the point anyway? Quite a bit, it turns out.

4)  Playing with Fire
On the blog for Arrow Leadership, Mark Buchanan recently posted this beauty about those things that God obsesses over. If Mark writes it, it should be read — one man’s humble opinion.

5)  Canadian Appreciation (*PICK OF THE WEEK*)
Sports Illustrated is doing a great series on Canada in recent days. Over the weekend, Peter King, one of America’s highly esteemed football guys took in two CFL games, including right here in Regina. His piece is a treat to read!

6) You Couldn’t Tell Me a Super Bowl Would Feel Nicer
Indulge me in one additional football piece — this one by Doug Flutie, recounting his days playing north of the border. Another great piece on a great league!

May your week ahead be filled with life, as you seek the One from whom it flows!

leaveacommentYOUR TURN: Your input makes this post better!

  • Which link above was today’s best-of-the-best?
  • Why that one?

Direct others to the best of the bunch with a quick comment.

[You can subscribe to this blog via RSS or email, in the upper right corner of this page.]

Sabbath: A Second Set of Eyes

Zemanta Related Posts ThumbnailOur church recently worked through a series of teachings on Sabbath. Far beyond a weekly holiday, this biblical concept is loaded with meaning, with each additional layer creating a rich tapestry of teaching that displays the love and goodness of God in fresh ways.

This series of blog posts will aim to capture some of the highlights of discovery along the way.

tiger woods sean foleyEven a casual sports fan knows Tiger Woods. Far fewer folks would recognize the name of Sean Foley, despite the intricate links between the two. You see, Sean is Tiger’s swing coach. It may strike some as bizarre that a world-class golfer, who has likely forgotten more about swinging a golf club than any of us will ever know, would hire as his coach somebody whose skills are apparently insufficient to make the PGA tour himself. However, everyone who has ever benefited from a counselor, a life coach, or a perceptive friend will tell you that there is great worth in having access to a second set of eyes. Inevitably, things from “out there” look a lot different than they do from “in here”. Every one of us has blind spots, none of which can be seen with our own two eyes. We need others.

When you consider the concept of time, there’s certainly no more “out there” perspective than that of God, the One who lives beyond time, in the incomprehensible realms of infinity and eternity. While we feel the pinch of living in a temporal environment and struggling to manage the ticks on our clocks, God’s perspective may prove uniquely insightful.

In seeking such insights, some have noted that the Greeks had multiple terms to speak of time. There are two that are frequently highlighted:

1) KAIROS
This term speaks of the opportunities and possibilities that exist within a moment. Any point on the timeline holds a significance that reaches far beyond itself. There is a ripeness, from which unforeseen wonders may spring. Every second is that loaded. This term (KAIROS) is the term used in Ephesians 5:16, when we are urged to “make the most of the time.”

2) CHRONOS
English speakers will see immediate links between this root and multiple terms in our vocabulary (chronology, chronicle, chronic). This term would have been particularly vivid within the Greek mind, as it was also the name of one of their gods, a particularly nasty non-headliner on the pantheon of divinities. Artwork through the ages depicts Chronos as a glutton. But he didn’t just stuff himself at the buffet; he gorged himself on his own children! Always consuming but never satisfied, Chronos is a vividly disturbing portrayal of what can happen when concepts like time, labor, and rest are viewed apart from God. Things get out of whack in a hurry: Bodies break down, minds grow weary, hearts feel heavy, and juggled balls become dropped balls. Relationships start reeling, pleasure goes missing, and joy becomes a struggle. Life feels dead, and we begin caring less about those things about which we care most.

Not so long ago, I found myself in a season of deep weariness. A cocktail of outer circumstances and inner struggle mixed perfectly to land me in a bad place. In a moment of self-conversation, I asked myself:

burnt-out-match“Jason, are you burnt out?”

I’m not so naïve as to have imagined that this question would never arise, but I always envisioned such a thought taking place 10 or 20 years from today. Even still, the inner dialogue was calm. I wasn’t in a state of panic so much as in a search for truth. I replied to myself:

“No, I don’t think so. But I have all the right ingredients in the bowl. None of them are in concentrations that would lead to burnout. But if I stir this recipe long enough, it’s not going anywhere good.”

And that’s what happens when we faithfully (or mindlessly) bring our offerings to Chronos. When we handle time recklessly, without rhythm or rest, we find our quest for efficiency or achievement to have turned on us. No longer are we stewarding time as the God-given resource that it is; we are now being nibbled at, even devoured, by a relentless and ruthless countdown. This sensation of being eaten reveals how far we’ve strayed from the order of Creation. In Eden, God ended each day proclaiming the goodness of all that had been done; it was satisfying, it was sufficient. Yet all too often, God’s image-bearers end days sighing in frustration over lists of what didn’t happen. It is not good; it is not enough. And Chronos continues to feast.

This is not as the Father designed it. And minus a second set of eyes, minus a pure perspective from way outside the rat race that buzzes daily past Chronos’ altar, we will remain trapped in days that lack the “good” substance of those first six days.

But with attention upon the Creator, Kairos is rediscovered and the life-giving potential and opportunity within each moment is once again enabled.

Sabbath can do all that!

Zemanta Related Posts ThumbnailYOUR TURN: Your input makes this post better!

  • Have you ever experienced anything that you’d call “burn out”? How did you heal or recover?
  • What types of ways have you learned to live well within time?

[You can subscribe to this blog via RSS or email, in the upper right corner of this page.]

Saturday Six-Pack (42)

Welcome to the weekend and to the Six-Pack. Below is the latest installment of best-of pieces I’ve recently read online. You know the routine: Most are faith-focused or ministry-minded; others are covered under the banner of who-knows-what!

If you need direction, begin with my two *Picks of the Week*, and move out from there.

For a steady stream of such links, follow me on Twitter ( @JasonBandura ) to the right of this post.  Sharp quotes and solid articles are tweeted 3-4 times daily.

Today’s edition:

1) The Beauty of Ambiguity
Paul Young, author of “The Shack”, posted this on his blog five years ago. Today, I direct you that way.

2) What a Coffin Maker Can Teach Us (*PICK OF THE WEEK*)
Joel Miller posted in reference to a three-minute video, which features Marcus Daly reflecting on his work of coffin-making. There is something profound here that is worth your time.

3) Common Fault Lines in Maintaining an Evangelical Approach to Homosexuality (*PICK OF THE WEEK*)
In this TGC piece, Kevin DeYoung attempts to identify some of the ways that Evangelicals get into trouble in their efforts to voice their views on homosexuality. I greatly appreciate the nuanced nature of this contribution.

4) Heaven is Real: A Doctor’s Experience with the Afterlife
In case this topic intrigues you but you’d prefer not to commit the hours necessary to read an entire book, Newsweek featured this piece on neurosurgeon Dr. Eben Alexander and his remarkable account.

5) 13 Things Americans Do That the Rest of the World Finds Bizarre
Enjoy this piece (by Business Insider) sent to me by one of my American friends. Then create your own list of ones that weren‘t covered!

6) Leaving Westboro Baptist Church
A regular reader sent me this one–thanks Dave. Give a listen to this CBC interview of how two former members of the infamous church became friends with a prominent Jewish blogger via Twitter. No joke!

There you have it. May your weekend be full of awareness and enjoyment of the God who already fills it with Himself and every good thing.  Blessings on you, my friends.

YOUR TURN: Direct other readers to the best stuff with a comment below, or weigh in on what you read.  Your input makes this post better!

[You can subscribe to this blog via RSS or email, in the upper right corner of this page.]

Losing Faith (Part VI): Less than Certain

NOTE: This post of an ongoing series titled, “Losing Faith”. Previous posts can be seen HERE.

certainty

I love certainty.

Great comfort arrives when pieces fit snugly together. If I have must have letters, let the I’s be dotted and the T’s be crossed. If I must have ducks, let them be in well-straightened rows.

That said, it’s easy for me to enjoy the opening chapters of Scripture. Genesis 1-2 contain the poetic telling of the world’s origins. In three words: Creator calms chaos. A state of lightless emptiness receives form and fill. Perfect pieces are shaped and snapped into one another. God called it good, and my order-loving self rejoiced.

However, Yahweh’s demolition skills are also exceptional when He notes the need. Genesis 6 begins the story around Noah, in which God unravels the intricate stitching of the Creation account. Re-creation is preceded by un-creation. I can sketch this logical need with clarity, but I failed to consider what such swirling floods would feel like when my own feet were swept away by the current.

Faith and Certainty

You see, the trouble is that faith and certainty are mutually exclusive. The quest for one endangers the other. More than that, the demand for one executes the other. The term “faith” is found 400+ times in the Bible (depending on translation used). In turn, one could reasonably conclude that certainty is therefore not a central experience to those who desire interaction with God. He has never dealt in that currency.

When Jesus called his first disciples, we read that they left behind nets and fathers and tables and what-not. They had no idea where Jesus was taking them or what would unfold along the way, but they held no illusions that they could both stay and go. There is no option of receiving without releasing.

Over the last few years, God has asked me to release my mind.

That sentence is begging for misunderstanding.

What I Do Not Mean

I am not speaking of believing blindly, of tossing aside one’s discernment, or becoming foolish or reckless or stupid. Our brains are glorious gifts, capable of shocking possibilities. I am certain that God wants them used to their fullest potential, and I am set on faithfully stewarding the one in my skull.

God’s nudge that I “let go” wasn’t a prompt to stop thinking. It was a loving lesson delivered vividly multiple times in the past four years. Even the slowest student starts to soak up a message after that type of immersion. What did I soak up?

My mind holds me back.

Trust me when I say that arriving at those five words required a climb-Mount-Everest type of trek for this fellow. Far easier to type it than to travel it.

Speaking of Typing

typingSurprisingly, the act of typing provided one of the breakthroughs. There is a sweetness to hitting one’s typing-stride. Keys are clicking, phrases are forming, and Creation ex nihilo is unfolding. My dust hands, tapping on Steve Job’s handiwork, are forming a never-seen-before reality. Wow!

But I have noticed something. I make more typing errors when I am thinking about the task. When eyes survey the keyboard, mistakes increase. Typing, at its fastest, happens more quickly than my brain can track. Demanding a mental log of the actions taking place is akin to tying an elephant to a Ferrari’s back bumper. Within this task, better to check the brain at the door and let muscle memory dating back to high school typing classes (Yes, I am old enough to have had typing classes!) carry the load. For here, my mind holds me back.

Typing is not the only such realm.

A Knowing Beyond Knowing

Within the spiritual dimensions, the mind—with all its power—can actually serve as anchor rather than compass. The demand for certainty is an inside insistence of one’s own sovereignty. Nothing in this post is a criticism of philosophy or science or religion or any other intellectual discipline. This is simply a statement of surrender from one man whose spiritual experiences have long ago left his head spinning. There is revelation beyond reason, and there is life above logic. And if one wishes to engage on those levels, his grip for control will have to break. One cannot stay and go simultaneously.

Mystery is the gap where Divinity lives. Strive ruthlessly to eliminate that space, and you will bulldoze the residence of the Divine in your life.

Or He might hijack the bulldozer and head your way!

1273bulldozer