Many of you who read this blog* know that Leslie Bustard is in the end stages of cancer. I have had it very heavy on my heart the last many weeks and I know many of you have as well, to pray for her and her family. This morning’s psalm was a balm for me in the middle of the night, as I was thinking of them:
1 How lovely are your dwellings,*
O Lord God of hosts!
2 My soul has a desire and longing to enter into the courts of the Lord;*
my heart and my flesh rejoice in the living God.
3 Indeed, the sparrow has found her a house, and the swallow a nest where she may lay her young,*
even your altars, O Lord of hosts, my King and my God.
4 Blessed are they who dwell in your house;*
they will be always praising you.
5 Blessed is the one whose strength is in you,*
in whose heart are your ways,
6 Who going through the valley of misery uses it for a well;*
indeed, the early rains fill the pools with water.
7 They will go from strength to strength,*
and the God of gods shall be seen by them in Zion.
8 O Lord God of hosts, hear my prayer;*
hearken, O God of Jacob.
9 Behold, O God, our defender,*
and look upon the face of your Anointed.
10 For one day in your courts*
is better than a thousand;
11 I would rather be a door-keeper in the house of my God*
than dwell in the tents of ungodliness.
12 For the Lord God is a light and defense;*
the Lord will give grace and honor, and no good thing shall he withhold from those who live a godly life.
13 O Lord God of hosts,*
blessed is the one who puts his trust in you.
As we enter into the holiest, most precious days of the Church year, I think it is worth pointing out, again, that prayer is the only source of strength that Christians really have. They might have a lot of things, but when it comes down to it, their prayers to Jesus—rather than their own work and all the various intentions of their hearts—is what overturns the world. This fact is, to put it mildly, counter-cultural. It is contrary to the expectations and beliefs of most people stumbling through their spiritual lives.
I caught a snatch of a video of someone yesterday who was trying to explain that prayer is basically like a channel, a sort of pipe, that you have between you and God. You sort of, in some kind of way, affect the energy force of God by projecting your energy force through the channel. Prayer is effective because of the communication, or exchange, of power. At least, I think that’s what the person was saying. It was sort of garbled.
Whereas, if you take the Christian view, which I suggest you do, prayer is not really about power, about getting God to do what you want him to—although that does factor in, of course. You are a helpless person and you need the person who can do things to do them for you. No, rather than being about power, prayer is about desire. To use the word of the day, prayer is an “orientation.” It relates fundamentally to who you are as a person and what you want.
What are your essential desires? Do you want to be a swallow in a nest in the eaves of the temple? Do you want to sit in the doorway, gazing at the sacrifice going on from a long way off? Do you want to be with Jesus more than anything in this life?
If you do, then when you pray, from wherever you are—in a hospital room, glumly scrolling through your phone, wandering around Wegmans in frustration and despair, wherever you are—you are also in the courtyard of heaven, huddled before the throne of your God in suppliant helplessness. When you ask God for what you want, he is bent toward you, listening in a way that no human could listen or understand. You are not speaking to him through some sort of pipe, transferring various energy frequencies. Nothing about your communication with God depends on you.
Except perhaps your overwhelming thirst, you’re being stuck in the “valley of misery” and discovering that there is no water there. Except perhaps being unable to withstand the danger and heartbreak that surrounds you. Except you’re existentially precarious as a person, subject to death, disease, trauma, and ruin. That’s what you bring. That’s your offering. That’s what you place there on the cold floor of the tomb.
Meanwhile, Jesus is listening to every groan, every scattered thought. He has already provided what was needed for the sacrifice. He has gone through the valley ahead of you. He knows everything that you need and everything you want. And so he gives you himself. He withholds “no good thing,” the very greatest of which is himself. He gives you his perfect strength, his overwhelming love, his true and perfect goodness.
Therefore pray—for everything and everyone—because the God of heaven and earth has heard your cry.
*Normally I would paywall on Wednesday (or at least that has become my habit over the last month, but I want everyone to pray. Hopefully, I’ll have a bit of a podcast to upload later.
Thanks, Anne. This is very encouraging. I'm going through a few hard things right now. I suppose that almost all of us are. So, thanks!