Category: Prayer (Page 5 of 29)

A Confessing Posture

Has it been a while since you openly and honestly confessed your sins to our Father? When’s the last time you got down on your knees, alone in the presence of our Holy God, and confessed your shortcomings and failures? These first days of Lent are a good time to re-engage this scriptural, historical practice.

Maybe you have a hard time getting started. If so, I would humbly suggest something like this. It’s both a terrible and beautiful experience for me. It’s devastating and liberating. Not easy at all, but needed. Desperately needed.

Block out twenty minutes when you can be totally alone with our Father. Not in the back bedroom of a crowded house; I mean in the back bedroom of an empty house. Totally alone. Nobody around. If you have to go to the shed in the backyard, do it.

Now, physically get down on your knees and physically open your hands with your palms up toward heaven. Now, just sit there in silence for a full five minutes – no cheating! – in the presence of God. After those five minutes, read one of the penitential psalms to the Father out loud. It’s important that you read out loud, that you hear with your ears your own voice articulating these words to the Lord. I’m partial to Psalms 32 and 51, but you could try Psalm 6, 38, 102, 130, or 143.

At this point, I am acutely aware of the presence of God and my own sinful soul. Like Peter, my first thoughts are, “Get away from me, Lord, I am a sinful man!” My feelings are like those of the prophets who proclaimed their own demise in God’s presence. I am ruined. I am dead. I am not worthy. And then I confess my sins out loud to God. And they are many.

I believe the silence and the physical posture of humility and prayer and the holy words of the psalms work together to prime the pump so that what’s in the deepest part of my soul comes gushing out. It can’t be stopped. And it needs to come out. I need to be open and honest about my sins with my loving and forgiving Father. I need to experience his forgiveness and his blessing, his pardon and approval.

You do, too.

Whatever it takes. Don’t let this 40-days of prayer and fasting come and go without spending some time in personal confession to our God.

If you need another suggestion, you might consider the words of this prayer of confession we prayed  together with our brothers and sisters at First Methodist during last week’s Ash Wednesday service:

“Most holy and merciful Father, I confess to you that I have sinned by my own fault in thought, word, and deed; by what I have done, and by what I have left undone. I have not loved you with my whole heart and mind and strength. I have not loved my neighbors as myself. I have not forgiven others as I have been forgiven. I have been deaf to your call to serve, as Christ serves me. I have not been true to the mind of Christ. I have grieved your Holy Spirit. Have mercy on me, O God, and in your mercy, cleanse me from all unrighteousness. Hear me now, as I continue to confess my sins to you…”

Most Christian traditions begin every worship assembly with a time of corporate and personal confession. We don’t. We have to work on it. Now’s a good time.

Peace,

Allan

Your Presence is Here

Father God,

Why is it that I think I must get somewhere, assume some position, be gathered together, or separated apart in the quiet of my study to pray?

Why is it that I feel that I have to go somewhere or do some particular act to find you, reach you, and talk with you?

Your presence is here – in the city, on the busy bus, in the factory, in the cockpit of the airplane; in the hospital, in the patients’ rooms, in the intensive care unit, in the waiting room; in the home, at dinner, in the bedroom, in the family room, at my workbench; in the car, in the parking lot, at the stoplight.

Lord, reveal your presence to me everywhere, and help me become aware of your presence each moment of the day.

May your presence fill the non-answers, empty glances, and lonely times of my life.

Amen.

~From A Thirty-Day Experiment in Prayer, by Robert Wood

Christian Practices

A word to our Golf Course Road congregation here in Midland as we commit to more of the ancient traditions like dwelling in the word, lectio divina, praying Scripture, borrowed prayers, imaginative reading, and memorizing and reciting the Bible. These spiritual disciplines give us a variety of tried and true ways to engage our God through Word and Prayer. These are the well-worn paths to experiencing Scripture and prayer with all our senses, not just our brains and intellect. I’m excited for us to read and pray together with our hearts and emotions, too.

As we get into this, be aware that a lot of people who talk and write about spirituality and being spiritual do so in terms of silence and solitude. That’s the focus, the general theme that runs through all of it. Some people who talk about Christian practices and write about spiritual disciplines seem to value silence and solitude above all other practices. They value silence over sound. They value solitude over community. They prioritize the authority of tradition over the challenge of freedom and prize predictability and rule over spontaneity and experiments.

I would suggest a balance.

I would invite you to try all of it, to experiment with a variety of ancient Christian practices and new Christian ways of paying attention to what God is doing in your life. You don’t have to be an expert in any of them or in all of them. I would only suggest that we value all of these practices and explore them together as important places where God is at work.

Peace,

Allan

Seeking the Lord

O, Lord my God, I believe in you, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Insofar as I can, insofar as you have given me the power, I have sought you.
I became weary and I labored.

O, Lord my God, my Sole Hope, help me to believe and never to cease seeking you.

Grant that I may always and ardently seek out your countenance.

Give me the strength to seek you, for you help me to find you,
and you have more and more given me the hope of finding you.

Here I am before you with my firmness and my infirmity;
preserve the first and heal the second.

Here I am before you with my strength and my ignorance;
where you have opened the door to me, welcome me at the entrance;
where you have closed the door to me, open to my cry.

Enable me to remember you, to understand you, and to love you.

Amen

~ Augustine of Hippo

Gather Me

O God, gather me now
to be with you
as you are with me.

Soothe my tiredness;
quiet my fretfulness;
curb my aimlessness;
relieve my compulsiveness;
let me be easy for a moment.

O Lord, release me from the fears and guilts which grip me so tightly;
from the expectations and opinions which I so tightly grip;
that I may be open to receiving what you give,
to risking something genuinely new,
to learning something refreshingly different.

O  God, gather me now
to be with you
as you are with me.

Amen.

~Ted Loder

Lamenting with Habakkuk

I’m finding it helpful and even calming right now to pray with Habakkuk:

How long, O Lord, must I call for help, but you do not listen?
Or cry to you, “Violence!” but you do not save?
Why do you make me look at injustice?
Why do you tolerate wrong?
Destruction and violence are ever before me;
there is strife, and conflict abounds.
Therefore, the law is paralyzed, and justice never prevails.
The wicked hem in the righteous, so that justice is perverted.

~Habakkuk 1

« Older posts Newer posts »