Desperate Prayers

Last night a good friend of mine preached at our church's midweek service. She talked about desperate prayers, and while I don't remember the five points of her message, I hope I always remember the prayer I prayed afterward. There were about 40 minutes after she finished where there was time for prayer and worship, and I thought about all the things going on right now where I am trusting because that's all I can do. This is what I ended up praying:

I can't.

Over and over again, I prayed that. I can't. I. Can't. You HAVE to, because I can't. YOU have to, because I can't. I can't heal sick family members. I can't replace my car or my computer or save enough for retirement. I can't save the people I love. I can't run my life by myself.

Last night I felt some of the desperation of realizing that I cannot live my life without God. I stopped trying for a moment, stopped clinging to the edge of the cliff, stopped trying to string my life together. I stopped picturing myself struggling to piece my life together when I'm 75 and alone. I let go of the cliff, free falled, and told God that He has to because I can't.

And today I feel like a weight has been lifted off me.

It's not that I won't ever struggle or worry. I'm human. But I think I have begun on the path of learning to truly put my life in the hands of God, of trusting that He will care for me for my entire life. Somehow I had this idea that when my parents were gone, when I get old, when the people I love start to die, that there would be no one to care for me, to care about me. I somehow managed to believe that God could only take care of me if certain people were in my life. How freeing to realize that God is bigger than that, that while God shows his love and care through people, he does not require the planets to align in exactly the right way in order for Him to be able to provide and care for His children.

I still have some really big things going on right now that have not yet been resolved. And when there is finally resolution, I'm pretty sure I'm going to be celebrating like crazy. In the meantime, I am holding on to the big picture of God's life-long provision and care. I am remembering how God provided manna and quail in the wilderness. I am remembering how God has cared for His people through all kinds of dire circumstances. I am choosing to claim victory over my life.

Fog

Tonight I went to a worship night at church. It was still going when I left, because my attention span starts to short out after an hour or so, but it was really nice to just forget everything else that's going on. A lot of times on Sundays I'm volunteering, so it's times like tonight when I can just focus on God and really immerse myself in the worship.

It was foggy as I drove home. I recalled hearing that there was a fog advisory on the radio, and as I drove down the road, there were thick patches of fog and then patches where it was clear except for a haze around the street and traffic lights. As I drove across high places, I could see the fog gathering in low spots. And I thought how lovely the fog is, how mysterious, how quiet. I remember once in high school there was such thick fog that you could barely see the building from the student parking lot. Everything sounds different when it's foggy, everything looks softer because of the blurry edges. I have tried once or twice to paint fog, but it eludes me.

I think fog is a pretty good representation of the presence of the Lord. Sometimes it's thick and practically tangible, sometimes you can't feel it around you but you think you see it far off. Sometimes you notice a haze of it as your gaze wanders. It's not a perfect metaphor, but drifting through the mysterious fog reminded me of the wonderful mysteries of God's presence.