Tag Archives: friendship with God

Prayer, Revised and Expanded

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My journal takes me back in time. September 25, 2015. Thirty years old. Married ten years. Two daughters—Kyli two months past her first birthday, and Kayt a month shy of her third. That means on the day I wrote this prayer I had a one-year-old and a two-year-old. No surprise that “broken,” “scared,” “no match,” and “tired” feature in this heart-cry, penned during a rare stolen moment. My heart bled out through the ink of my pen. I turned to the page and to my heavenly parent, because together they were the safest place I knew.

April 17, 2024. Thirty-eight years old. Married 18 years. Kyli and Kayt are now 9 and 11. We’re deeply settled into the house we were in the process of purchasing in 2015. And I’m writing, which I now realize is not only a safe place for me, but also a creative passion.

Today I’ll respond to myself in this prayer. A spiritual journey is a both/and experience, dense with contrast and contradiction. And so today maybe I disagree with my thirty-year-old self, but my experience and beliefs then were as valid as my experience and beliefs now.

Truthfully, I haven’t been writing spiritual content much recently. I’m weary of cultural Christian ideas, the sin-and-salvation language, the beliefs that tied my hands behind my back. But set all that aside, and there is a friendship. Prayer is a celebration of friendship.

Good morning, Lord.

I am in a place I know You do not intend for me to be. I’m literally sick with worry. I can’t stop my head from spinning and my heart from panicking. Please speak truth to my heart and save me from myself.

You can be in this place. It’s okay to not be okay. You won’t feel this way forever. And yes, keep believing there are better things ahead. You are held.

I believe the solution is walking with You, but I can’t even do that. I am so broken, so scared, so selfish. Please do it for me, Lord. Take my heart, take my marriage, take my parenting, take my responsibilities at church and book group and other places, take the move to the new house, take meal planning and grocery shopping, take the lies that cripple me. Take my heart of stone and replace it with a heart of flesh.

What does it look like to “walk with God”? You are beautiful and your life is beautiful. You are worn out. Ask for help. Take medication. Drink coffee. Watch TV shows. Cry. Plan a day for yourself—that is not selfish. Your heart of flesh is already there. And this grieving might be just the thing to help you find it.

I confess my selfishness, my desire for control, my fears, my misbeliefs. They are sin and they do not honor You. Please take them from me. Please fight this fight for me. I am no match for sin, no match for the devil, no match for life.

Overwhelmed, flooded, depressed, alone, trapped. You feel these things deeply. You are stronger than you think, and not as strong as you think. You might have to let get of what you’re holding tight, and holder tighter to the things you’ve been letting go. Don’t know what that means? Don’t fret. God really does have your back, and She’s not the least bit disappointed.

I can do nothing … but isn’t that a good thing? For Your strength is made perfect in weakness [2 Corinthians 12:9]. Please hedge me behind and before and lay your hand upon me [Psalm 139:5]. Please take away my addiction to negative emotions. Teach me to rejoice in Your victory in my life, to give You the glory, to have a heart of thanksgiving.

These things you dream of will happen. You will learn to enjoy feeling happy, to like yourself, to feel gratitude and joy.

Lord, I am lonely. I am broken. I am too self-centered to see the beauty of You and the many good gifts You are showering on me daily. I surrender to You, Lord. Please save me from myself, Lord.

God will save you from yourself by introducing you to your true self. It’s okay to be lonely and broken. You are also brave and kind and capable.

I need time with You daily in prayer and in the Bible but I feel helpless to make that time. Please do it for me.

God loves to spend time with you. She hears you.

Thank You that You see me as I am and love me. I am so tired of myself. I am so grateful that You are not overwhelmed by my brokenness. Thank You that You use brokenness for Your glory. Give me a testimony that will draw others to You. Lord, if I need a mentor, please provide.

Keep speaking these truths. And when you’re too tired to speak them, the Spirit will speak them for you. You don’t need a testimony; you are a testimony. And you always will be.

I am terrified of the day ahead of me. Take this from me, Lord. Give me eyes of faith. Remind my heart to lay everything at Your feet and let You do the heavy lifting. I want to take Your yoke upon me and learn of You, and accept the rest You promise [Matthew 11:29]. I want to be Your servant and friend so that others will be drawn to You.

Oh dear one, these days are so long and so hard. I see you. You can do hard things. And God is teaching you to rest, even now.

Thank You for my brokenness, thank You for trials and difficult times. Thank You that You are enough and everything else is a cherry on top. I choose by the power of Your Spirit to abide in You. Please let me be a branch today. [John 15:4, 5]

Way to go! You are receiving with open hands. But you know, “everything else” is the stuff life is made of, and it’s okay to want it to feel lighter. You are a branch. You are a badass. Many good things are coming for you, and one day you will feel excited about what the day holds. In the meantime, go get some coffee.

Will I Be Friends With My Mind?

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Will I Be Friends With My Mind?

Blessed are You,
Lord our God,
King of the Universe,
for my mind.
I’d rather curse You for it,
but that wouldn’t fit my poem.
My mind is prone to operating
with one wheel in the ditch.
Sleep is my drug of choice,
sweet relief from my mind.

Blessed are You
for meeting me in my mind,
proving once again
that You have a taste
for dinner with a sinner.
Because of Your audacity,
I consider making amends
with my mind.
Maybe we can get along
despite everything.

Blessed are You,
Lord our God,
King of the Universe,
for my mind—
filing cabinets of facts,
drawers in disarray,
windrows of worries,
and stacks of stories.
If it were empty
I would cease to exist.
So, thank You for the mess
and the miracle
that is my mind.

Is It Really Safe?, Part 3

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I was listening to a sermon by one of my favorite speaker-authors, Ty Gibson, when an innocent-appearing statement sent me someplace I hadn’t been intending to go. He said, “To know God, as God really is, vaccinates the soul against violence.” I looked at those words bold across my screen, and I wanted to believe them, but my knowledge of the Old Testament stopped me cold. I began thinking of Bible stories I hadn’t thought about for years, and as I much as I wanted to believe knowing God moves me away from violence, I wasn’t at all sure the Bible supports that. I say I know a loving God, but does a loving God encourage violence? Suddenly I felt betrayed.

Is My Friend A Murderer?

There’s this Guy named Jesus, who is also Father and Spirit, and I love Him. And He loves me. All the time. Even when it makes no sense. We talk, we listen, we sit together. Jesus is beautiful. And Jesus is changing my life. He gets close to me and He speaks healing over wounds and truth over lies. He is generous and graceful and kind, and He holds me. He surprises me with grace. But He refuses to get me all fixed up perfect because He knows I would say, “Ha! I knew what was most important to You all along was for me to be good.” And that’s not what’s most important to Him at all. We’re friends. Not because we’re even remotely of the same status or on the same plane of existence, but because He wants to be friends with me. (John 15:15)

For reasons unknown to me, I had never stopped to think about whether my Friend is a murderer. Whether He asks His human friends to kill. Whether He punishes, sometimes with death. Despite being familiar with violence in the Bible, I had never engaged with it in the context of my friendship with Jesus. All of a sudden I had a lot of questions about my Friend. What’s going on? Am I seeing things wrong? Is the Bible seeing things wrong? If my Friend is both loving and violent, why does everything in me want it to be different than that?

Biblical Violence

I read the entire Bible several times between the ages of eight and twenty. I have been exposed many times to the stories of the Old Testament. As a child and youth, I don’t recall that I ever felt any sadness, concern, or horror. Now I’m circling back to these stories from a place of relationship – the place of loving God – and I feel betrayed. It’s like I thought I knew someone and then come to find out they are a mass murderer. I am shocked. Hurt. I don’t know what to do next. Have I been duped? Did God have a change of heart? Is He both loving Father and mass murderer? If so, will there come a day when God asks me to murder?

Consider this passage:

Moses saw that Aaron had let the people get completely out of control, much to the amusement of their enemies. So he stood at the entrance to the camp and shouted, “All of you who are on the Lord’s side, come here and join me.” And all the Levites gathered around him. Moses told them, “This is what the Lord, the God of Israel, says: Each of you, take your swords and go back and forth from one end of the camp to the other. Kill everyone—even your brothers, friends, and neighbors.” The Levites obeyed Moses’ command, and about 3,000 people died that day. Then Moses told the Levites, “Today you have ordained yourselves for the service of the Lord, for you obeyed him even though it meant killing your own sons and brothers. Today you have earned a blessing.”

Exodus 32:25-29, NLT

That’s heavy.

I am not drawn toward God in this story, but rather repulsed. I recoil. And then I dismiss. Yes, the Bible says that, but in recent years I have chosen not to think about it. Not on purpose – I just began reading religious books more than the Bible, and my Bible reading centered more in the New Testament. This is fine and good unless my life bears evidence of what I believe about God. If that is true, I cannot sweep this under the rug. For if in some corner of my heart I believe God is violent, then when my world changes, might I be convinced to be violent? Might I become the person killing in the name of God? Oh, I know it feels so far away from my safe and comfortable middle class American life. But I’m guessing it was far from the minds of many who joined Hitler’s army. Is it possible that if I don’t think about this now, it will think for me later?

Ahhh, yes. This is a good question. But I cannot let fear lead this discussion. Scrambling for certainty does me no favors. Trying to eliminate all uncomfortable answers seems an equally wretched path. So what is left? History isn’t much help. It’s full of stories of people killing in God’s name, and being killed in God’s name. Who is right? Some people say every word of the Bible is to be taken at face value, and some say it’s not. Who is right? Must I hold God at arm’s length until I figure out what’s going on?

Still Friends

As I experience this confusion and feelings of betrayal, within 48 hours of the I-don’t-know-if-I-can-believe-this-non-violence-statement upheaval, I have conversations with four people who listen and affirm my struggle. Not one glosses over it or tries to fix it. They listen. They share their own struggles. They sit with me in the not-knowing. When I realize what has happened, I weep with gratitude and relief. I may feel lost, but the God who loves me is watching over me. He doesn’t come out of the sky with an answer to quiet all my questions. He doesn’t tell me not to question. He sends me four friends to walk with me. He walks with me.

I don’t have the theological answers to my questions. Perhaps God is misrepresented by Biblical authors. Perhaps violence is at times an act of mercy. Perhaps God gets blood on His hands when He reaches down into this bloody, human mess, and I don’t see the whole picture. My heart, my eyes and ears, are open. I desire understanding. But I don’t have to have an answer now. Answers are not as satisfying as they seem. I could be safe with answers. But I am safer with God. And so, while I regret to inform you that you have read this far only to discover I have no answers, I am delighted to tell you that Jesus and I are still friends.

Safe With You

Lord, I’m safe with You. Nothing I can say would make You feel guarded or put up defenses. You look at me with an open face and posture. You want me to know You, and You are vulnerable enough to care what I think about You, because You love me. And yet You’ve been misunderstood for thousands of years. You’re used to Your own children spouting off nonsense about You. You are safe. Oh how I need a safe place, a safe Person! A place where I can get things wrong and I’m not rejected. May I always take refuge in You. And may Your love be a big enough refuge to bear all things.