Thoughts from our morning meeting (Sunday July 5th)
Once upon a time their lived a king. He was a cruel man, hard and callous toward his subjects. Every day the dwellers of his kingdom would pound on his door, begging for lower taxes, higher rations, and forgiveness for their debts. The more the people pounded, the more frustrated the king became, until finally, annoyed at their persistence, he would give in, granting their requests.
Is this how we view God? Do we need to petition Him, then hope He’ll respond to our repeated supplications? Is He hesitant and reluctant to pour love out on us, His own children? This God, whose very being is love and truth, how can we hold Him responsible for the pain that so often shakes our world and personal lives?
This week, our household had a lively discussion around prayer, what it means to us and how we view the One we pray to. We discussed the possibility of prayer as communion with God, and less of a conversation. As one person mentioned, we can picture the relationship between a father and son. The son can write a letter to his father, listing his requests and diminishing his devotion to mere consonants and vowels. Or, he can pay a visit to his father, spending time with him as they watch the sunset and share meaningful experiences together. There is so much value in shared presence.
How do we spend our time with God? Do we have the audacity to think we know what is best for our futures, pointing out the problems we would like Him to fix in our far from perfect world? As someone from our circle pointed out, perhaps prayer is a matter of surrendering of our will, and aligning ourselves with God’s. Only then can we be fully effective. Somebody else illustrated the idea that we are like cells in the body; we can in no way understand the body and mind in its entirety. We can only plug in where we are at, supported by our neighboring cells, believing in an ultimate goal and plan.
Another person pointed to the words of Psalm 46 “Be still and know that I am God”. In the posture of stillness King David speaks of, what do we have to say to the God who knows us fully and sees yesterday, today, and all the tomorrows to come? Being present with God drives us to silence.
In reflection:
Through yesterday’s conversation, I was reminded of my own ongoing journey of understanding prayer and finding true connection with God. As a child I latched onto the idea of God as a genie-in-a-bottle, ready to bandage my wounds at my convenience. For example, every night I would pray for my dad to be miraculously cured from the lifelong effects of Club foot. In the morning I would race to the chair where he always sat drinking coffee and listening to the news. Every day I fully expected to see him healed to “normal”. I had the simple faith of a child, yet I was placing my personal expectation on God. My dad still has physical disabilities, yet I understand now that he is exactly as God created him to be.
Praying for my dad’s healing was only one example of the many items on my “grocery list for God”. My prayer list contained a whole stack of bullet points, requests I expected God to fulfill—my way.
I now see how placing specific expectations on God is a recipe for disappointment and failure. Rather than figuratively pounding on His door in hopes of trading my persistence and good works for blessings, I would rather wait outside until it’s quiet. Only then can He open the door and step outside to share the sunset.
