Honest Prayer

I’ve never been a very good pray-er.  Praying is not easy for me.  I mean, the actual words, those are easy (if you haven’t already noticed, God has gifted me with an endless supply of words . . . to my husband’s dismay!).  It’s the consistency.  I have trouble praying with consistency.  Oh, and listening to God instead of always talking – yes, quiet is a momentous effort sometimes.

I have used all sorts of excuses for being a lazy pray-er.  For a time I used the excuse that “God knows my heart” so I didn’t feel like I had to stop and tell Him things He already knows.  And while it’s true that God knows my heart, I didn’t realize that I don’t always know my own heart.  There’s something about talking to Him that gives me perspective and calm.  When we connect with our Maker, we can see ourselves, and others, more clearly.  I can’t tell you how many times I have begun talking to Him and then the tears flow, as if I didn’t even feel the heaviness of my own heart until I stopped to rest and let Him bear the load.

I have also used the excuse that my prayers don’t matter.  I’ve prayed for people to be healed and they weren’t.  I’ve prayed for God to make certain things clear to me and He didn’t.  When God doesn’t meet our expectations, we often assume that He doesn’t hear us and that He doesn’t really care.  We might not say that out loud in Christian circles (cause that might mean people would judge us and assume our faith is weak), but I think most people have this nagging question of whether prayer really matters in the grand scheme of things.

In fact, many Christians use “predestination” type words, saying that everything that happens is God’s will, etc.  If I believed in predestination, I’d probably be the laziest Christian on the planet.  If we don’t have free will, and if everything is already “decided” by God, then I’ll just sit back and let it happen.  But I don’t believe that.  I believe God gives us free will (although I believe He is ultimately still in control and can do anything He wants) because He loves us.  And because we have freedom to choose, He engages with us and we are not required to follow some predetermined, rigid path He has laid out for us.  I believe God goes before us, is omniscient and still gives us free will – how He does all of that is a mystery, but . . .oh, that’s right . . . He’s God.

Prayer matters because we have a growing, changing, dynamic relationship with The Living God and Creator of all.  That still blows me away.

I have learned that God doesn’t need my prayers, but I need Him.  I don’t understand prayer, but I have discovered that this famous quote is true, “When I pray, coincidences happen, and when I don’t, they don’t.”  (William Temple)

“In prayer we merely keep returning the divine gaze, and we become its reflection, almost in spite of ourselves. . . .It is not a technique for getting things, a pious exercise that somehow makes God happy, or a requirement for entry into heaven.  It is much more like practicing heaven now.”  (Yes, And, Richard Rohr)

I’m grateful that I grew up with parents who taught me that prayer is just “talking with God.”  It’s not about saying the right words or following some “method” (although this can be helpful if prayer is uncomfortable and new).

In short, prayer is more of an attitude of the heart.

And by attitude of the heart, I don’t mean a perpetually good attitude.  I have definitely prayed, more times than I care to admit, with a terrible attitude!  But the important thing is that I come to God with my bad attitude and with all my “stuff.”  I don’t want to sugarcoat it for Him or pretend or hide (although I’ve tried).  That is the miracle of prayer – we can come to Him in darkness, and just inviting His presence and acknowledging His greatness, brings light and gratitude.    

It’s almost impossible to start and end a prayer with a bad attitude.  If you bring it to God, He has this incredible way of changing your surly outlook into a grateful heart.  I think that’s why the Psalms are so amazing – David is raw and honest with God, but almost always ends each song/prayer with hope and gratitude.

“Every moment I break my mind from the present fear or tedious daily task or even from the feeling of joy and turn my thoughts into thankful recognition of what God has done, I break down some fear-constructed wall.  Maybe thankfulness is the only way to live prayer.” (Found, Micha Boyett)

I have prayed terrible prayers: “Lord I’m only praying for this person because I don’t like him.  I don’t want to feel this way, but I can’t forgive him or love him without Your help.”

I have prayed disrespectful prayers: “God, do you really care?  How can you let this go on?  How can you say you love us and then allow this kind of suffering?”  Usually, God just asks me these questions back:  “Do YOU really care?  How can YOU let this go on?”  Annoying, but truth is often uncomfortable and annoying.

I have prayed desperate and prideful prayers: “God, didn’t you lead me here?  Why would you bring me down this path just to watch me fail miserably?”

But God can handle it all.  I believe He wants us to be honest with Him.

When I think of honest prayer, two stories come to mind, one beautiful and one ugly:

Several years ago, I was a facilitator for a community Bible study and one of the ladies in my group appeared to be there with great reluctance.  She literally sat with arms crossed, looking uncomfortable and suspicious, and she asked questions about where I went to church and why (I think somehow searching my motives, maybe looking for a reason to ditch the whole endeavor).  Over time, she uncrossed her arms, she began to smile, she began to cry, and I had the great privilege of watching God transform her heart (and transform mine too in the process – I love it that that God’s life-changing love is contagious!).  One night I asked the small group to go around in a circle and say a sentence prayer (some in the group were veteran pray-ers and some never prayed out loud, so I just encouraged them to thank God for one thing).  My introverted friend (to my shock) prayed aloud, and said the most beautiful, simple and honest prayer . . . and she began with “Hi, God.”  It’s still one of the most powerful prayers I’ve ever heard because it was so real – it was a sacrifice for her to pray out loud because it required great vulnerability.  It was as if she was having a conversation with God and we got to listen in.  She reminded me of what prayer is all about.  (I hope to tell her story some day – it’s quite amazing.  I never would have predicted that this loud, goofy extrovert and that quiet, pensive introvert would eventually become great friends.)  She was seeking God and He was going to transform her life with or without that Bible study group, but I’m so grateful she shared her journey with us – turns out she had much more to teach me than I had to teach her.  She has been a source of great encouragement for me through the years and still teaches me a lot about God, and the benefit of being uncomfortably honest before Him.

My other prayer story is ugly but honest.  After a very long and tumultuous season with our young-adult daughter (I think she was around 21), there was a terrible night when everything came to a head.  I am not generally an angry person (I can count on one hand the times I’ve been really angry in my life) and I don’t swear very often, but there was a lot of fear and frustration that manifested as anger that night.  Our daughter called and informed Keith she was coming over.  I gave him a “hard” look and told him I was so angry, I couldn’t have a conversation with her and I needed to pray for us, to ask God to help rein in my emotions.  So I prayed out loud, and I remember starting the prayer like this, “I don’t mean any disrespect, God, but I need to curse right now” and then I proceeded to have a very forthright, loud, animated, teary, profanity-peppered prayer.   When I finished praying, it was quiet for a moment (maybe we were both waiting to see if God was going to strike me down with a lightning bolt or ball of fire or some other dramatic end), and then Keith broke the silence by calmly stating, “I’ve never heard anyone throw the f-bomb in a prayer before.”  I told him that God already knew what I was thinking so I might as well say it out loud.  Needless to say, Keith intercepted Casey shortly after she arrived because my prayer for calm was not immediately answered.  (By the way, Casey has turned out to be a wonderful woman – I wish this wasn’t part of our history, but God has been good through it all).

I am not proud that I was a cursing wreck before God.  No one wants to be that way.  But God met me in my mess and He helped us through.

Being honest means being vulnerable, and there is something powerful about baring your soul to God, in abandon and joy, in anguish and sorrow.  He already loves us.  He already knows the dark shadows of our hearts with great intimacy and He still loves us!  He wants to shine the light in those dark places and chase the shadows away – but those places are hard to let go of.  The shadows are our best hiding place.

I recently discovered the new refrain that Travis Cottrell added to the old hymn, “Just As I Am” and I love these lyrics.  I think it captures honest prayer.

I come broken to be mended

I come wounded to be healed

I come desperate to be rescued

I come empty to be filled

I come guilty to be pardoned

By the blood of Christ the Lamb

And I’m welcomed with open arms

Praise God, just as I am