• Our hope-filled future is bound up in sharing the story of Jesus, in discipling others, in bringing those disciples together into communities of believers, and in developing and releasing those believers to create other communities... till Jesus the King comes again!

A Bubbling Fountain for Thirsty Souls

The Americas Area is preparing for their Area conference [Mission 11: Vision Forward] by looking at the Gospel of John. Today’s post by Myles spoke to my heart, and I asked if I could share it with the entire World Team community:

“[John 7]  37 Now on the last day, the great day of the feast, Jesus stood and cried out, saying, “If anyone is thirsty, let him come to Me and drink.  38 “He who believes in Me, as the Scripture said, ‘From his innermost being will flow rivers of living water.’ ”  39 But this He spoke of the Spirit, whom those who believed in Him were to receive…   – John 7:37-39

Today, I come to John 7 a very thirsty man.

As 2010 has passed, Carol and I find ourselves, in the words of Psalm 63, in a ‘dry and weary land.’ This past year swept over us as a perfect storm of arid care-giving demands:

– For 8 months, Tim, our wonderful son-in-law has been struggling deeply with a crippling neurological–and as yet undiagnosed–disease that has stripped him of his job, his dignity and his ability to walk pain free or without a walker.

– For 14 months, my 91-year old live-in Mom has been recovering slowly from a serious hip break. Now confined to a wheel chair, we are grieving with her the loss of memory, freedom and dignity.

– For 120 months, Mattie Jeanne, our delightful 10-year granddaughter, has been weathering a series of congenital malfunctions, corrective surgeries and therapies. 2010 brought several new and serious diagnoses; one of which is a rare heart issue that could be life threatening.

I am thirsty today as I prepare to go with Tim and Deb to Emory Hospital for an MRI consultation with Tim’s neurologist and his colleagues. Our weariness crashes upon us like a wave. No quick fixes or easy answers here. The desert goes on as far as the eye can see. My self-centered flesh asks, “Is it time for a ‘pity party?”

Then came the Oasis in the wasteland. As we began to pray the Gospel to ourselves this morning, the tears began to flow. Tears of grief, turn to tears of repentance and finally tears of joy. The Holy hush of the Spirit’s presence has come upon us. Jesus, once again, is allowed to take center stage. The bubbling fountain of God’s presence more than quenches our thirst.

He is the Oasis, both with and within us, for each faltering step we take through whatever desert through which we currently find ourselves journeying. He is the source of shade, shelter, food and water. His presence in us brings rest, refreshment and joy; a refreshing foretaste of the Beauty that lies at journey’s end.

The glory of the wilderness is thus: Without the parched lips and raging thirst, we would never seek the Oasis.”

Answered Prayer

In talking of prayer this week, I thought back to last January 2010 when we spent a month praying together as a World Team community for the need of new workers.  Out of that community prayer time came many innovative ideas and steps, some that have been implemented and others that are still being worked. 

But, here’s even more exciting news.  God is answering our prayers.  As of today, we know that …

  • In the last four months, sixteen new workers have left for midterm or longer term work,
  • At least two workers have left for exploratory internships as of January 2011,
  • Another church has signed a partnership agreement with World Team to send a church based team to an unreached people group,
  • A team is currently visiting one of our fields in Asia to consider the start-up of a new ministry, and
  • Eleven students from a Bible College in Australia will visit our Europe Area in the spring of 2011 to consider opportunities to serve there

 I am sure that I have missed other good news, but it is important that we encourage one another by this news that God is answering prayer. 

Take the time to review some of the posts from last January 2010 under the Prayer tab.  These can provide ongoing direction for our prayers!

Argumentative Prayer

In response to my post on Monday, Chuck sent these thoughts:

“Unable to sleep, I got up to do some more reading on prayer.  I was disappointed with what was at hand after the help and challenge I received from Paul Miller’s A Praying Life

I finally found a book with a chapter on “Prayer Habits of the Puritans.”  I was taken aback by Richard Sibbes’ use of “argumentative prayer” which he described as “an excellent thing.”  Caution signals were flashing in my mind.  But Sibbes argued on: “Study the Scriptures, and . . . study all the arguments whereby holy men have prevailed with God . . . to see in what cases those arguments were used.  They are of use and force to prevail with God.”

The writer said that the “interrelationship of this to the promises of God and praying in accordance with his will is reflected in Sibbes’ statement: ‘It is a pitiful thing . . . for Christians . . . to come to God only with bare, naked petitions . . . and have not reasons to press God out of his own word.  They cannot bind God with his own promise, nor with arguments that he hath been bound with before.’”  He compared this to ‘to a parent answering a little child because he cries, but when he is of grown years, the father looks for arguments that are moving to press him with.’

Thomas Hall also ‘argues’ for argumentative prayer.  He says that “We must stir up ourselves that we may lay hold on God, and use argumentative prayer, as Moses did, Exod. xxxii.11-13.  God loves to see us fervent, when it is for his own glory and his church’s good. Tell him the cause is his.  And the people that are oppressed are his, and the enemies are his; . . . therefore beseech him to rise.”

I paused to think of other possible examples in Daniel 9 and Genesis 18.  And how about the audacity of Jacob, wrestling with God?  My defenses began to come down.  I don’t normally approach God so boldly.  Why not?  Is it irreverent, disrespectful, overly assertive?  Or is my view of prayer limited by my own timidity, lack of boldness and more deeply, unbelief?  Is it presumptuous to claim God’s promises, if we are not demanding that God knuckle down to our way of seeing things?  Could it be that I need a new level of boldness that takes God more seriously, recognizing in my utter helplessness that I desperately need him to do what he promises?  I need to process this more.  Could this also be the spirit of the Disciple’s Prayer, based on who our Father in heaven is?  And how about the prayer, “Come quickly, Lord Jesus”?  Hmmm.”

Created for Communion

[For our next discussion, I would encourage you to read chapters 12-18 in Paul Miller’s book, A Praying Life]

Prayer often feels like a task, not like a time of communion.  For that reason, I was struck by Paul Miller’s comment in chapter 12 where he describes the prayer of a young child: “Because Luke was created for communion with God, he naturally drifted into prayer.  He was unaware that two hundred years ago Kant divided knowledge into public and private, thus marginalizing prayer. Because Luke had become aware of his own culture, he also knew he had to hide his praying from his mother.”

Naturally drifting into prayer is not the natural reflex for most of us.  Yet, it is the innate response of a “child” who senses the great love of his/her Father; a love that is based not on what he/she has done, but on the simple fact that he/she belongs to the Father.  This is not something that comes naturally to me as an “adult”.  But the desire for that communion should lead me to turn more and more to turn to Him in prayer.  Perhaps the reminder of the reality of who I am to the Father would be a good starting point for my prayers, for our prayers.

We can also feel the disapproval of the culture around us to prayer.  Have you ever hesitated to pray (or to offer to pray) in a given situation, wondering what others might think?  I am not suggesting that we become “prayer dispensing machines”, but there have been times when I have felt led by the Spirit to offer to pray for others and I have talked myself out of it.  I now see those as missed opportunities to bring others into communion with our Father.

Prayer is not a task, but experiencing it as “communion” is the journey that we are on and for which we need one another in order to “drift more and more naturally into prayer.”

Curing Cynicism

Thanks to Noah for this week’s post on A Praying Life:

During this holiday season, Miller’s chapters on cynicism (9 and 10) are particularly apropos.  Charlie Brown’s Christmas seems like naïve optimism, hopelessly out of touch amidst the hustle and bustle of earthier holiday specials that feature broken families, sparkling with conflict and laden with crass humor.  It is particularly obvious during the Christmas season that, as Miller says, “Cynicism is, increasingly, the dominant spirit of our age.”  Exhibitions of Dickensian families modeling the perfect relationships are no longer appealing to our culture of rubbernecking window-shoppers.  That stuff is “just not realistic.”  We know better.  It’s not such A Wonderful Life, after all, and if you get your hopes up…

Among the materialistic cynicism, the birth of the Messiah gets too tightly swaddled the ethereal tones of Silent Night to shed light on our cynical age for what it is:  the answer to Israel’s prayer for the nations.  Israel was commissioned to be God’s instrument of deliverance in the world (Gen. 12:1-2; Ex. 19:5-6).  They had failed repeatedly in their mission, and the world remained as hopeless.  It was becoming very obvious that they were not the answer.  Now, all they could do was pray.  The birth of Jesus marks the dramatic reversal that answered the groaning plea of the failed people in Isaiah 26:16-9: 

“As a pregnant woman about to give birth writhes and cries out in her pain, so were we in your presence, LORD. We were with child, we writhed in labor, but we gave birth to wind. We have not brought salvation to the earth, and the people of the world have not come to life. But your dead will live, LORD; their bodies will rise— let those who dwell in the dust wake up and shout for joy— your dew is like the dew of the morning; the earth will give birth to her dead.”

To many, Christian hope sounds like gooey gumdrops and candy cane dreams – the stuff of holiday cheer.  But the signals of transcendence – the clues and signs of “something more”, a Providential plan and the possibilities of hope – that culture attempts to articulate during the holiday season should only serve to augment the contrast between our hopeful prayers and the world’s cynical expressions.  Truly, as Miller says, “To be cynical is to be distant.”  Prayer draws us near.  It “engages evil” and hopes in God.  It is the most realistic thing we can do.

Boy, am I a product of this generation!  Miller’s “cure for cynicism” that encouraged us to “learn to hope again” was particularly poignant.  I love to dream.  But it feels “like so much foolishness” when tempered by the extremities of the world’s dilemma.  And it doesn’t feel like it’s doing much, sometimes.  I pray the news, but it happens anyway.  As he says, “Prayer feels pointless, as if we are talking to the wind” with that attitude.  “But Jesus is all about hope.”  Could it be that “Disney is right,” as Miller claims?  Yes, for the Promise Fulfilled in the Birth of Christ is the substance of my faith.  It happened.  The Promise was fulfilled.  Prayer was answered; prayer will be answered. 

This season provides us the perfect opportunity to draw near to God in prayer, confident that the birth of His Son was only the beginning of fulfillment.  There is a happy ending to this cynical age:  “Behold, I make all things new” (Rev. 21:5).  Returning to this reality – the essential promise of Christmas – should be a daily discipline, so that we may remain unspotted by the world’s detached cynicism.  May this be our Christmas anthem: “In keeping with his promise we are looking forward to a new heaven and a new earth, where righteousness dwells. So then, dear friends, since you are looking forward to this, make every effort to be found spotless, blameless and at peace with him. Bear in mind that our Lord’s patience means salvation…” (2 Peter 3:13-14).  And when I can’t say this with a straight face to my brothers and sisters for fear of sounding too hopeful, too sublime – I will remember how far I have fallen from the Truth of Christ’s birth – and return in practical, realistic, everyday prayer.

Cultivating Repentance

Paul Miller’s comment in chapter ten of A Praying Life strikes right to the heart: “A significant source of cynicism is the fracture between my heart and my behavior. It goes something like this: My heart gets out of tune with God, but life goes on.  So I continue to perform and say Christian things, but they are just words. I talk about Jesus without the presence of Jesus.  There is a disconnect between what I present and who I am.”  

This is a commentary, in many ways, of our Christian journey.  Getting our heart back “in tune” with God then becomes a major element of our life of prayer.  But, how does that happen?  What does this kind of repentance look like so that “the split personality [is brought] together and thus restores integrity to life”?  Those are some of the questions we probably need to ask ourselves and one another on a regular basis.

Paul Miller says that such repentance begins with an admission of our own impurity, our own sin; we first get our own heart back in tune with God.  Then we “develop an eye for Jesus,” looking in mundane encounters for the “odor” of authenticity in others where “inner and outer lives [are] matched.” 

How often do I look at this journey from an individual perspective, rather than as something in which the community around me also participates for my development and growth as well as theirs?