Prayer: Why Bother?
Two people I know here in New Zealand are experiencing major crises involving ill or injured family members. One of those people asked me to pray. While I'm not a prayer expert (more of a prayer polliwog), I could be a crisis expert (after living through a late husband's critical illness for four-and-a-half months; the birth and subsequent operation of a pre-term baby and my own sky-is-falling-wait-maybe-not health crisis). When things go terribly wrong, like when the husband who's supposed to return from the hospital dies in the ICU instead, you think about prayer differently. It's not about outcomes. It was never about outcomes. We pray (or wish, or hope, or whatever...) for a return to physical health, wholeness, financial security. We pray (or wish, or hope, or whatever...) for our ideal. We rarely reach what we thought was ideal. Expectations can get snuffed like candle flames.
Some studies have shown prayer can influence outcome. That's wonderful if your end result is positive. What if the outcome stinks? I remind myself, prayer's about process, not results. It's more about listening and watching for internal answers than about expecting external rewards.For me, it's about asking God to help me focus on the here-and-now, rather than expecting a future miracle. Mind you, I wouldn't kick Future Miracle out of bed for eating crackers.
I paused between bedtime story and laundry folding tonight to think a short prayer for my friends and their families. Yes, I prayed for good outcomes, even Future Miracle. I also prayed for gifts that will help right now:
-Ability to ask for what they need
-Wisdom to decide who's equipped to help, and (maybe more importantly) who's not
-Capacity to savor sweet, small moments that sprout, like flowers between rocks, each day
-Patience to understand life will change for the better, just as it changed for the worse
-Ability to cram as much love as possible into a day
-Talent to accept help
-Self-love, to allow for enough food, drink, exercise and sleep (wine and massage help, too, if they're your things)
I pray my friends will ask for what they need. Ask for what you need. Ask for what you need. We can't read your thoughts, although when you're in crisis you feel like your emotions have been splattered on the sidewalk (or foot path) for everyone to see. Those best-equipped to help will arrive without pretense or prodding. Some of us will know what you need before you ask. I pray you have heaps of those folks sprouting like flowers between your rocky places. And that you allow them to grow with you, for you.
Dawn, what you've written here shows such wisdom, such grace, such faith, and such strength. It's so true, too, I believe. While I pray a lot, I do not pray for certain outcomes. I do not believe in praying for outcomes, as matter of fact. I think many, even those with superior backgrounds in theology, are quite misguided when we pray for certain outcomes.
ReplyDeleteYour prayer reminds me of this story, about a boy named Gilbert and a Pinewood Derby car that didn't stand a chance: A Simple Prayer
More: by Peggy Porter
ReplyDeleteMy son Gilbert was eight years old and had been in Cub Scouts only a short time. During one of his meetings he was handed a sheet of paper, a block of wood and four tires and told to return home and give all to "dad."
That was not an easy task for Gilbert to do. Dad was not receptive to doing things with his son. But Gilbert tried. Dad read the paper and scoffed at the idea of making a pinewood derby car with his young, eager son. The block of wood remained untouched as the weeks passed.
Finally, mom stepped in to see if I could figure this all out. The project began. Having no carpentry skills, I decided it would be best if I simply read the directions and let Gilbert do the work. And he did. I read aloud the measurements, the rules of what we could do and what we couldn't do.
Within days his block of wood was turning into a pinewood derby car. A little lopsided, but looking great (at least through the eyes of mom). Gilbert had not seen any of the other kids cars and was feeling pretty proud of his "Blue Lightning," the pride that comes with knowing you did something on your own.
Then the big night came. With his blue pinewood derby in his hand and pride in his heart we headed to the big race. Once there my little one's pride turned to humility. Gilbert's car was obviously the only car made entirely on his own. All the other cars were a father-son partnership, with cool paint jobs and sleek body styles made for speed.
ReplyDeleteA few of the boys giggled as they looked at Gilbert's, lopsided, wobbly, unattractive vehicle. To add to the humiliation Gilbert was the only boy without a man at his side. A couple of the boys who were from single parent homes at least had an uncle or grandfather by their side, Gilbert had "mom."
As the race began it was done in elimination fashion. You kept racing as long as you were the winner. One by one the cars raced down the finely sanded ramp. Finally it was between Gilbert and the sleekest, fastest looking car there. As the last race was about to begin, my wide eyed, shy eight year old asked if they could stop the race for a minute, because he wanted to pray. The race stopped.
Gilbert hit his knees clutching his funny looking block of wood between his hands. With a wrinkled brow he set to converse with his Father. He prayed in earnest for a very long minute and a half. Then he stood, smile on his face and announced, 'Okay, I am ready."
As the crowd cheered, a boy named Tommy stood with his father as their car sped down the ramp. Gilbert stood with his Father within his heart and watched his block of wood wobble down the ramp with surprisingly great speed and rushed over the finish line a fraction of a second before Tommy's car.
Gilbert leaped into the air with a loud "Thank you" as the crowd roared in approval. The Cub Master came up to Gilbert with microphone in hand and asked the obvious question, "So you prayed to win, huh, Gilbert?"
To which my young son answered, "Oh, no sir. That wouldn't be fair to ask God to help you beat someone else. I just asked Him to make it so I don't cry when I lose."
Children seem to have a wisdom far beyond us. Gilbert didn't ask God to win the race, he didn't ask God to fix the out come, Gilbert asked God to give him strength in the outcome. When Gilbert first saw the other cars he didn't cry out to God, "No fair, they had a fathers help."
No, he went to his Father for strength. Perhaps we spend too much of our prayer time asking God to rig the race, to make us number one, or too much time asking God to remove us from the struggle, when we should be seeking God's strength to get through the struggle. "I can do everything through Him who gives me strength." Philippines 4:13
Gilbert's simple prayer spoke volumes to those present that night. He never doubted that God would indeed answer his request. He didn't pray to win, thus hurt someone else, he prayed that God supply the grace to lose with dignity. Gilbert, by his stopping the race to speak to his Father also showed the crowd that he wasn't there without a "dad," but His Father was most definitely there with him. Yes, Gilbert walked away a winner that night, with his Father at his side.
Beautiful. Thanks, Kellie!
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