Tag Archives: wise

Prayer—No Easy Matter

Matterofprayer: A Year of Everyday Prayers – Friday, April 20, 2018

honest definition

Prayer—No Easy Matter

When I read this first reflection on prayer by Henri Nouwen, his words penetrated me deeply. (Again, I might add. I have a feeling this will happen to me again and again as I read through this short book.) I am unashamedly a fangirl of Fr. Nouwen. His profound writing and superb choice of words consistently hits home. Now, if I could just get his words to remain in my brain and imprinted on my heart…

He speaks of a deep relationship, a no-holds-barred relationship between me and the other. (Or, should I say the Other? I have always honored God with capitalization, as much as possible.) In any case, Fr. Nouwen talks of a deep resistance, as well. Giving the illustration of a woman admitted to a psychiatric center [1] who absolutely refuses to open her fist until it is pried open to reveal a coin…makes me think hard. How much am I trying to hide from God?

As Fr. Nouwen says, “When we are invited to pray we are asked to open our tightly clenched fists and to give up our last coin. But who wants to do that?” [2] This can be such a painful process. Even though some may cry out of that deep place of pain and anguish, the whole process can be painful. Just deciding to begin to pray can be filled with anguish. “You feel it is safer to cling to a sorry past than to trust in a new future. So you fill your hands with small clammy coins which you don’t want to surrender.” [3]

Dear Lord, how difficult it is to be totally honest. Even though You know everything already, just like a wise, benevolent earthly parent, I feel awkward, and shy, and ashamed, and resentful. Disappointed, jealous, sad, and angry, too. Why is it that deep emotions get in the way of my relationship with You so readily? Clutching these yucky emotions to my chest as if they were treasures is not in my best interests. Lead me to understand this deep truth that Fr. Nouwen brings to my attention.

Let us pray. Gracious God, loving Heavenly Parent, You are patient and merciful. You are also all-knowing, so I cannot hide from You—as much as I want to. As the psalmist reminds me, even if I flee to the depths of the sea or the highest mountain, You are still there. You are still with me, no matter what happens. Help me to be honest with You. You love me. Help me emblazon those words on my heart. In Jesus’s precious name we pray, amen.

@chaplaineliza

 

Like what you read? Disagree? Share your thoughts with your loved ones and continue the conversation.

Why not visit my companion blogs, “the best of” A Year of Being Kind.  #PursuePEACE. My Facebook page, Pursuing Peace – Thanks! And, read my sermons from Pastor, Preacher Pray-er

[1] With Open Hands: Bring Prayer into Your Life, Henri J. M. Nouwen (United States of America: Ave Maria Press, 1972), 3.

[2] Ibid, 4.

[3] Ibid.

PEACE – Knowing Christ is in Me (Repost)

This repost is especially for the Facebook site “Pursuing Peace.” God’s blessings on all my readers today.

Matterofprayer: A Year of Everyday Prayers – Wednesday, February 24, 2016

peace in Jesus' name

PEACE – Knowing Christ is in Me

Another day for me to sincerely apologize. I had a malfunction with my digital camera happen on Sunday, at Bethesda Worship Center. Again, I’d like to express sadness that I have no photos of any of the dear people who were so kind to pose with their personal definitions of PEACE. I thank Pastor Chuck for being willing to offer his smart phone as a last-minute replacement! (Sadly, my advanced-beginner expertise with social media is showing … in that I couldn’t get the dratted thing to send photos!)

However, I am continuing to post the sheets of paper on which these dear people wrote their definitions! So, for the next few days—and definitions—I will be posting the sheets by themselves.

The next definition comes from a gentleman who had a marvelous view of PEACE. Nick Kokoraleis’s definition was PEACE is knowing that Christ is in me.

It took Nick a little while to process my question: “What is PEACE, to you?” He told me, hesitantly, that he sometimes had difficulty responding in a quick manner. I let him know that he could take as much time as he needed! After reflecting on the question, he formulated his response in an excellent way. (As we can see, above.)

Pastor Chuck saw Nick’s response. He nodded, and said, “Nick is a wise man.” He sometimes has difficulties and challenges in his dealings with some people (who are usually impatient, and get irritated very quickly). Yet, he is a thoughtful, kind man, who is occasionally misunderstood. Thank you, Nick, for an excellent definition.

Dear Lord, thank You for Nick’s reminder. When I know that You are with me, in me, then I have the assurance of Your protection and care. Thank You, Lord.

@chaplaineliza

Like what you read? Disagree? Share your thoughts with your loved ones and continue the conversation.

Why not visit my sister blogs, “the best of” A Year of Being Kind.   @chaplaineliza  And, read my sermons from Pastor, Preacher Pray-er

Earnest Prayer of a Soldier

Matterofprayer: A Year of Everyday Prayers – Wednesday, October 21, 2015

A relief showing Confederate soldiers heading off to war, part of the Confederate Memorial at Arlington National Cemetery.

A relief showing Confederate soldiers heading off to war, part of the Confederate Memorial at Arlington National Cemetery.

Earnest Prayer of a Soldier

The October days roll by, and the sections of the Lord’s Prayer pass me by, as well. The prayer I chose for today from The Oxford Book of Prayer concerns “Lead Us Not into Temptation.” (Prayer 395, page 119) [1] The prayer is in a section entitled Right Living.

O, Lord, I need all the help I can get.

The subtitle on this specific prayer is “Prayer of an unknown Confederate soldier.” I quote it in its entirety.

I asked God for strength, that I might achieve.
I was made weak, that I might learn humbly to obey.
I asked for health, that I might do greater things,
I was given infirmity, that I might do better things.

I asked for riches, that I might be happy.
I was given poverty, that I might be wise.
I asked for power, that I might have the praise of men.
I was given weakness, that I might feel the need of God.

I asked for all things, that I might enjoy life.
I was given life, that I might enjoy all things.
I got nothing that I asked for – but everything that I had hoped for.
Almost despite myself, my unspoiled prayers were answered.
I am among all men, most richly blessed.

Poignant. Moving. Heart-breaking. All of these descriptive words, and so many more. Strength, contrasted with weakness. Health and infirmity, riches and poverty. Weakness as opposed to power? Life, and that abundantly. Truly, this earnest and worthy man was indeed richly blessed. May I be one quarter as blessed as this man.

A brief postscript: the Book of Prayer describes the author of this prayer as a Confederate soldier. Yes, that is a descriptor. However, it does not tell me what I really want to know. Was the man young? Old? Did he smile often, or was he serious? Was he married? Did he have children? What did he do before the war? Did he have a sense of humor? Was he scared at the thought of going into battle? Did he miss his hometown? What about brothers and sisters, other family members, friends, comrades?

In other words, who was this man? I know he was someone’s son. I suspect he was a faithful believer in God, since these words were probably not penned by a skeptic.

Like all others in this Book of Prayer, the author of this prayer was a child of God. Dear Lord, just as You heard this dear one’s prayer, written one hundred fifty years ago, hear mine. Hear me—hear others as we repeat his words. Lord, in Your mercy, hear our prayers.

@chaplaineliza

Like what you read? Disagree? Share your thoughts with your loved ones and continue the conversation.

Why not visit my sister blogs, “the best of” A Year of Being Kind.   @chaplaineliza And, read my sermons from Pastor, Preacher Pray-er

[1] The Oxford Book of Prayer, edited by George Appleton. (New York: Oxford University Press, reissued 2009), 119.