The nature of prayer

The sermon on Sunday caused me to start thinking and reevaluate how I pray, also why I pray the way I do. It was something that kept me musing over it in the back of my head at odd times. Then it finally hit today when I was doing my devotion. I usually read My Utmost for His Highest (wonderful devotional!) and then either the Scripture in that, or a chapter in Romans or 1 Corinthians.

In today’s devotional, it talked about how important it is to be in tune with the nature of God and able to hear His call, and not your own nature:

“The call of God is not a reflection of my nature; my personal desires and temperament are of no consideration. As long as I dwell on my own qualities and traits and think about what I am suited for, I will never hear the call of God. The majority of us cannot hear anything but ourselves. And we cannot hear anything God says. But to be brought to the place where we can hear the call of God is to be profoundly changed.” (http://www.rbc.org/utmost/index.php)

I began wondering and musing if I was in tune with God to hear His call, and not listen to my own nature. Throughout the morning, I was praying silently, “Lord, show me if I’m in tune with You. If I can hear Your call, and not listen to my own nature.” Then everything came together. That feeling of a light-bulb suddenly going off? Something like that, although it felt more like lightening suddenly hit me.

In order to pray well, you have to be able to hear the call of God. Yes, I know. ‘No duh’ right? Right and wrong at the same time. Prayer is bold and daring, shameless and persistent—and in order to gain this, you need total desperation, total surrender and death to self. It also hit me that in order to be able to pray in this way, this total desperation—do or do not—one has to be able to hear the call of God. However, I was still wondering how on earth you can obtain this. It made me go searching for answers, and the best thing I thought was to read over again what my pastor had taught over (Luke 11:1-13). In verse 13, I found something.

“If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!” (Luke 11:13)

It struck me that perhaps the reason God gives the Holy Spirit to those who ask Him is because the Holy Spirit enables us to pray with this total desperation. I went to a passage I knew talked about that. Romans 8:26-28. What it states pointed to the conclusion I was coming to on my own. That one of the reasons God gives us the Holy Spirit is to enable us to pray “Thy Will be done” in the truest sense, because if one is in tune with the call of God, one can honestly pray and mean it.

“Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.” ~Romans 8:26-28~

Just some things God has been bringing to my attention. Also makes me wonder if that’s how Jabez could pray what he did, because he knew the call of God and was able to pray within that.

Jabez called upon the God of Israel, saying, "Oh that you would bless me and enlarge my border, and that your hand might be with me, and that you would keep me from harm so that it might not bring me pain!" And God granted what he asked.

~1 Chronicles 4:10

Do or do not.

Yes, yes, another poem, i know. It's just that God has been teaching me a lot over the last few weeks, or perhaps more like everything is sinking in from the past semester--more like full year, but especially the past semester. God's been teaching me a lot about trust, love, and how to live for Him. It's been an amazing journey so far, with it's own heights with the depths. i guess that's what has stood out. that you have to risk the depths in order to get the heights. because the blessings that come with the heights are worth the depths.

Trust is such a fragile
Thing.
Hard to gain but
Easy to break.
Yet without trust,
No one can live.
And therein lies
The rub.

Once broken one is
Faced with a choice:
To trust again.
Or to hide
And guard in fear.
And therein lies
The rub:
Is the risk great enough
And important enough
To take?

A hard choice
But a necessary one.
Afterall, how can one
Truly Live
If one cannot trust
Those around him?
And therein lies
The rub.

So...i had another inspiration for a poem. and this one i know God brought to mind. it basically began as this picture of a dance and grew from there. enjoy!

The Dance

Music spilled softly through
The double doors.
The girl got glimpses
Of the dancers
As she slowly strode up.
Taking a breath, straightening
One last thing,
She climbed up the stairs.

The man at the door bowed,
And opened it,
Motioning her inside with
A gentle hand.
She walked into the Room,
Glancing about tentatively,
And took an open seat.

The girl watched the dancers,
Admiring the ones
Who seemed to dance effortlessly,
Laughing and talking.
Her eyes narrowed curiously
As she noticed
Dancers who seemed to be
New and unsure.
Others appeared to have
Been dancing together
But not as long as
The firsts she had seen.

The girl gazed down towards
The other end
Of the Room,
And wondered why
She could not see
The way out.

Suddenly, a voice clearing its
Throat nervously
Caused her to look up.
A young man gazed at her,
Holding out his hand
Hopefully.

She studied him for a
Few moments,
Before smiling, and shyly
Took his hand.

The young man drew her out
To the dance floor.
He began to lead her,
And she knew.
They bumped into each other,
Stumbling a bit
As the boy could not
Make up his mind
Where to go.

The song seemed to end,
Though the music continued.
He looked at her and then led
Her back to the chair
She had had before.
And silently, he bowed
Walking away.

The girl sighed, taking
Her seat.
Her dress had changed
During the dance,
And now she appeared
A bit older
Than when she had first
Come in.

The man came up to her,
A sure grin on his face.
The girl smiled, taking his hand,
And was pulled into the dance.
He led demandingly,
Pushing her along the floor,
Too fast and too soon.
The song finished swiftly,
And she firmly pulled away,
Her eyes flashing angrily.
He held up his hands,
Backing away,
And off to find a
New partner.

Weary physically and emotionally,
She sank into a chair,
Near the front door
But a bit further down.

She saw him coming
Towards her.
She had noticed him
Watching her dance.

Sighing, the woman almost
Turned him down,
But she looked into his eyes
And something whispered
To take his hand, to
Try once more.

His arms held her shyly
But firmly
As he led her around
The floor.
She found it easy to
Follow him.
He skillfully led her,
Gently pushing when needed
But also as a request,
Knowing she could refuse.

Suddenly, their song had stopped,
And both stood,
Gazing at each other,
Almost bewilderedly.

Where had the time gone?

The man released her but
Both walked to the
Refreshments, getting a drink.
A new song began to play,
And he looked at her,
His eyes questioning.
The woman smiled at him,
Nodding.
The man comfortably
Took her hand,
And they danced.

Song after song, the music
Never fading,
Moving down the floor.
The woman did not notice
As they kept changing,
Growing older and more relaxed.

As the dance progressed,
She realized
They were moving unwittingly
Down the floor,
Further from the front
And towards the other end
Of the Room.
The further they got, the more
Comfortable they became,
Until they were dancing
With no effort
And simply concentrating on
Each other,
Laughing, talking,
With no worry
Of a new step.

The man paused, the woman glancing
Up at him curiously
And then to where
He stared.

The double-doors were thrown open,
Leading outside.
Out of it danced,
Strode couples,
Dressed in an array
Of wedding dresses
And tuxedoes,
Bright simple Rings
Glittering on each
Of their fingers.

The man looked down
At her,
His arms tightening
About her.
He leaned down and
Whispered into her ear,
Soft words only she heard.
Then, he let her go.

The woman’s eyes went from
The doors to him,
Back to the doors,
And finally rested on him.
The man had taken a
Step away,
Waiting, his eyes fixed on her.

The woman smiled shyly
At him,
Reaching out a hand
Of invitation.
The man grasped it,
Drawing her close to him.
A new song began to play,
One only they could
Hear.
Together, they began
To dance
In a way they had not
Before.
They moved to the door,
Effortlessly going through it,
Rings gently encircling
Their fingers
As they danced to
Their Song.

Namárië, Valimar!

i've been reading Tolkien again, and this poem came to mind. actually, this picture in my head and i turned it into a poem. these are the lines that inspired it: "mortality is not explained mythically: it is a mystery of God of which no more is known than that 'what God has purposed for Men is hidden': a grief and an envy to the immortal Elves." (The Silmarillion, preface)

Namárië, Valimar!

She walks silently through the glade,
Her barefeet seemingly to float above the ground.
Her long hair drifts in the soft breeze
While her dress flows about her.
Her hands gently—lovingly—touch the flowers,
Seeming to caress the trees.

She stops at a small white flower
Struggling to raise its bloom.
Her eyes fill with a sadness,
An unspeakable sadness,
Telling of ages long ago.
And suddenly, her young age
Is replaced with a timelessness.

She reaches out a hand,
Whispers a few soft words
And straightens.
She looks up,
And one can see the haunting
In her pale-blue eyes,
A longing for something
She will never reach.

She leans upon the trunk
Of a startlingly beautiful tree.
Tears flow down her cheeks,
Unbidden but unchecked.

She looks about the glade,
And one fancies she sees
More than just flowers and trees.

Softly she whispers,
"Ai, Valimar,
í vanwa ná, Rómello vanwa, Valimar!
Nai elyë hiruva.
Namárië!"

A swift glance, a soft word
Are all the notice one has
Before she slips into the shadows,
Seeming to melt away.

Translation: Ah, Valimar, now lost, lost to those from the East is Valimar. Maybe even thou shalt find it, farewell!