Another Dangerous Prayer (from Kairos Tonight)

I am mulling over tonight’s message from Kairos on a stomach full of chips and salsa and tortilla soup from Chuy’s. That’s my favorite meal there and I recommend it if you haven’t tried it already. Shameless Tex-Mex plug.

One of the most dangerous and liberating prayers you can pray is: Lord, use me.

It’s dangerous because you never know how God will answer it. You never know where or to whom He will send you. Most likely, it will be a place out of your comfort zone to people you wouldn’t normally associate with. It may not be the safest part of town and it may mean you miss a concert or a party you’d rather be going to.

It will mean that you suddenly are on the radar screen of the enemy. Satan will throw everything he’s got at you if you pray this prayer and really and truly mean it. Probably, those who are most vehemently against what you’re doing will be fellow Christians and the ones criticizing you the most will be churchgoers. But if God is for you, as the song says, who will be able to stand against you?

“Use me” is also the most liberating prayer. Namely, because you realize that God can use you. In fact, God can take any surrendered vessel and any person who has a heart of service and obedience and work mightily through them. If God can use a few fishes and a few loaves of bread to feed a multitude, He can use your life to bless your world. I love what Martin Luther King, Jr, said:

“Everybody can be great…because anybody can serve. You don’t have to have a college degree to serve. You don’t have to make your subject and verb agree to serve. You only need a heart full of grace. A soul generated by love.”

May God give us hearts full of grace and souls generated by love. May He use us to go where no one else will go to the people no one else wants to touch. May we be a blessing everywhere we go, every place we are to everyone we meet.

 

 

Waiting

Waiting is not doing nothing. Waiting is not sitting idly by watching for God to drop our dreams in our laps.

Waiting means getting ready. It means preparing your fields for rain so that in due time you may reap a harvest.

Waiting means an open mind, a listening ear, and a softened heart.

Waiting means trusting in God’s perfect timing, not forcing anything or speeding things up, but actively trusting that God knows what He’s doing and that what He’s doing is for His glory and for your good.

Waiting means letting go of what you’re grasping with clenched fists to receive what God is preparing you for. It means possibly letting go of something good to receive something better.

Waiting is not something you can learn about by reading up on it or studying other people who wait. You can only learn to wait by waiting, by experience of trial and error and frustration and impatients that finally resolves into peace and serenity and the faith of a child.

Waiting means living with tension and notes that don’t resolve. It means being content with not having answers, but only silence to your myriad of questions.

Waiting is to be still and know that Yahweh is God. He’s in control and His plans will prevail.

Waiting the right way is never in vain and never without its rewards, among those the being greater knowledge and closer intimacy with God. That and that alone is worth the costs that come with waiting.

There’s a lot more to learn about waiting that will take a lifetime to master, but I know this: waiting is a good thing.

 

Communion Prayer

Lord, we come to Your table remembering what You did for us. We remember how much you gave of your body and blood and sweat and tears.

Help us to not sanitize the Cross to make it palatable and PG. Help us to see You bloody and battered up on that Cross, hardly recognizable as human (Isaiah 52).

You didn’t give only a little part of Your body and a little part of Your blood. You gave all.

Help us not to give You the leftovers of our hearts and lives, but help us to give everything, to give until it hurts and to keep giving until it is all gone.

We take the broken bread, representing Your broken body, by which we are made whole.

We take the cup, representing your shed blood, by which we are made clean.

Help us never to take this for granted.

May we be brought to tears every time by Your awesome sacrifice and may we be undone by what You did for us.

May we leave Your table a little more like You than when we arrived.

Amen.