lenten journey, day 34 — a prayer for the mentally and emotionally troubled

As humans living in a fallen and decaying world, there will be times when we must enter the deep end of the pool— that place where we feel our solid footing drop away, where we aren’t strong enough to keep our head above water for long, where we are in imminent danger of drowning. That place where heroic rescue seems our only hope.

Of all the deep-water experiences that life can throw at us, there is none quite so deep and frightening as mental/emotional illness. We are much more able to understand and weather a storm related to physical illness. Cancer, diabetes, HIV, heart attack, stroke…all these are tangible, scientifically explainable afflictions. Though treatment may fail and we may die from these illnesses, we can at least place our hope in God’s ability to heal us through medicine and science.

But mental and emotional illness can be so very mysterious. Who can grasp the inner workings of an unfathomably complex mind?

It is this lack of understanding that causes so many mentally ill people and their families to simply give up when years of treatment and counseling seem to yield little progress. Compounding an already difficult situation is the perceived stigma of mental illness and the lack of support that follows. Even the church seems unsure of how to reach out to those with emotional fragility, depression, schizophrenia, bipolar, suicidal tendencies, addiction, eating disorders, self mutilation, and other struggles.

Here is the greatest tragedy that can result when stigma and shame intersect with inadequate support for patients and families: the person struggling to regain mental health can be forsaken by their family, forgotten by their community, and abandoned to tread water in the deep end of life, all alone.

Is it surprising, then, that 25% of the homeless in the United States suffer from some form of severe and persistent mental illness? Or that 55% of men and 73% of women in state prisons have significant mental health disorders? Or that countless others who struggle with fragile minds must live out their days in complete isolation from family and community?

Prisons are not mental health facilities. Cold and dirty gutters are no place for the emotionally and mentally fragile to call home. And meal after meal eaten alone in an empty, lonely apartment is not Christ’s plan for abundant life.

I believe that we, as the church, must do a better job of loving people in the deepest of all life’s deep ends. We must strive to see the mentally and emotionally ill as Jesus does—with eyes of compassion and hands that reach out with love and healing.

Lord, I boldly come before your throne of grace in the name of Jesus, asking you to pour out your healing and rescue on the lives of the mentally and emotionally ill, and on their weary, frightened caregivers. You alone know the innermost workings of our minds, so you alone can bring complete healing and abundant living to those with mental afflictions. I ask you to bind up the brokenhearted and strengthen the fragile. How it will glorify your holy Name when the shattered are made whole again! Lord, would you please forgive me for all the times I’ve regarded mental and emotional illness as something too private and painful for my involvement? I see now that fragile people and their families don’t need to be left alone. They need to be embraced and encouraged with all the love I can give in your name. They don’t want me to ignore their pain, they want me to share it. Holy Spirit, would you show me when someone struggling in the deep waters of life needs a hug, or a meal, or a word of encouragement? Please, help me to love as you have loved me. Yes, and amen.

He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. — Psalm 147:3

My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you.
— John 15:12

lenten journey, day 33 — a prayer for prince

This is our special son, Kibonangoma Prince, who is 10 years old and lives in Rwanda. We sponsor Prince through Compassion International, which is a wonderful organization that provides food and education to children in devastatingly poor areas of the world. The children also hear the great good news of Jesus and study the Bible at school.

Prince’s life is so very different than the life my own children know. He lives in a house with dirt floors, mud walls and a corrugated iron roof. He eats beans, cassava-bread and potatoes—and little else. Most adults in his region are unemployed, but some are subsistence farmers and earn the equivalent of $10 per month. Malaria and parasitic worms are serious threats to health in the area. There are many war orphans in Prince’s community, so I praise God that Prince’s family is intact.

I would love it if anyone reading this could join me in praying for Prince, his family, and his very broken nation. Rwanda is still greatly in need of reconciliation after the genocide and mass killings in 1994. It is also a country being ravaged by HIV/AIDS. More than 3% of the population was infected at the end of 2005, the last year for which numbers were available.

So often, we ask ourselves what difference believers can really make in the world when the amount of suffering, affliction, poverty, despair, and spiritual blindness is so staggeringly immense. When I look at Prince’s face, though, I know exactly how we are to impact the world for Christ. One precious life at a time.

I think that Prince’s name is so beautiful. He is a child of the Most High King, and that makes him a prince, right?

Here is a recent letter we received from our beautiful Rwandan son. I thought you might enjoy his simple faith:

To the parents of the child Kibonangoma Prince, your child greets you in the name of our lord Jesus Christ. He wants you to know that he and his family are good. His family is Patience, Esperance, Max and David. Your child wants you to know that he is in P2. He performed well. He is now in holidays, he helps his parents with house work like fetching water, and nowadays it’s scarce. He also babysits the baby. He enjoys playing soccer and tennis and running. He enjoys praying in the children’s service and he usually prays for you, that God may bless you. Read Job 28:28. That verse blesses him very much. He concludes requesting you for a photograph and if possible that you may visit him. He wishes you God’s peace. May God be with you.

Father, thank you so much for bringing Prince into our family. Help us to be faithful faraway “parents” to this precious child. Ignite in our hearts a true desire to pray for him without ceasing, just as we do for our own children. God, would you just place your hand of protection on Prince and his family? Would you help them to grow in faith and embolden them to share your salvation story with others in Rwanda? Thank you, Lord, for the good people at Compassion International and the way they have given over their lives in service to you and your neediest children around the world. May many more believers impact this hurting world through child sponsorship. Yes, and amen.

And he said to man, 'The fear of the Lord—that is wisdom, and to shun evil is understanding.' — Job 28:28 (Prince’s special verse)

Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it. — Proverbs 22:6

"Whoever welcomes one of these little children in my name welcomes me; and whoever welcomes me does not welcome me but the one who sent me." — Mark 9:37

lenten journey, day 32 — a prayer for the wodaabe

Once a year, the Wodaabe nomads of Niger and Chad in north central Africa stage a sort of male courtship ritual. The Wodaabe earnestly believe them- selves to be the most beautiful people on earth, and this is a chance for all the young men to show off their good looks to the ladies. Some men rub yellow powder into their skin to make it lighter. Some accent their eyes and lips by drawing around them with black kohl. The hair at the front of the head is shaved off to give the appearance of a high forehead (very desirable). And a line is painted down the nose to make it look longer. Then, for the ultimate sex-appeal, they open their eyes very wide and roll them down or to the side, emphasizing the whitest part of the eyeball.

All this frivolity contrasts with the stark reality of the Wodaabes’ lives as nomads in a harsh desert environment. Their main food is milk from large herds of cattle, and the Wodaabe will often walk more than 1,000 miles in a year with the cows, searching for water and pasture to keep the milk production strong. When drought conditions last too long, the milk dries up, and the Wodaabe starve.

The Wodaabe practice folk islam, a blend of islamic tradition and animist belief in the sprit world. They are extremely superstitious; in fact, the word “Wodaabe” means “people of the taboo.” For example, it is taboo to give Wodaabe children names until they are 12 years old. Wodaabe mothers are not allowed to talk to the oldest child in the family or call them by name. And all Wodaabe are forbidden from looking people in the eye while speaking to them.

There are about 100 believers among the 100,000 Wodaabe people. These believers often have a difficult time telling their fellow Wodaabes about Jesus, because of their extremely nomadic lifestyle. One village elder likened their ways to those of “birds in a bush,” always flitting here and there in an effort to survive.

How comforting it must be for Wodaabes who believe in Jesus to know that they have a true and lasting home with God. And how wonderful that God’s word is clear about beauty: people may think a high forehead is stunning, but the Lord sees beyond the façade and into the heart. And the beauty of a heart that knows Jesus is beyond compare!

Beautiful Savior, I pray that the Wodaabe people would embrace the everlasting love that you give so freely. I pray that they would see your beauty for what it is: a radiance that outshines all others. Even though the Wodaabes’ lives shift and waver on a daily basis, there is a steadfast permanence about your grace. Would you reveal that truth to them? Would you enable more Wodaabe believers to share the beautiful news of Jesus with their fellow nomads so that taboos and superstition no longer control their lives? Lord, please look after Wodaabes’ physical needs, too. Grant them plentiful water and pasture for their herds so that they won’t be hungry or sick. I ask this on my knees. Yes, and amen.

The Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart. — 1 Samuel 16:7b

One thing I ask of the Lord,
this is what I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the Lord
all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord
and to seek him in his temple. — Psalm 27:4

lenten journey, day 31 — a prayer for street children

Tonight, while we are snuggled up in our comfortable beds in our comfortable homes in our safe neigh- borhoods in some of the wealthiest nations on earth, an estimated 200 million street children will be bedding down in conditions that we would deem too awful for our pets.

They’ll be curling up in cardboard boxes (if they’re lucky), in doorways, under bridges, and even in sewers. Tomorrow when they awaken, they’ll begin another day of survival of the fittest—stealing, fighting, turning tricks, using and selling drugs, sometimes even killing to survive.

If you need any more evidence that we live in a broken, fallen, sin-corrupted world (I doubt that you do…), look no farther than the streets of India, Colombia, Russia, South Africa, and countless other nations where orphaned and abandoned children as young as two years old live like animals.

How God must grieve over the loneliness and desperation of these children. Where the world sees a filthy urchin, God sees a precious child created in his image. We see their disposable lives, God sees their eternal souls. The communities in which these children roam see a problem that needs to be fixed, but God sees a child who needs to be loved.

Yes, God sees these least-of-the-least through eyes of pure, complete, passionate love. And that is why, even in the midst of this darkest of injustices, there is a light that shines. God is raising up believers to go out in the name of Jesus to love, feed, shelter, and rescue street children.

Consider this story of God’s power to move the human heart from selfish ambition to selfless kindness: A very rich businessman in Bogotá, Colombia, witnessed a little homeless girl get killed while she was running to pick up an empty box to sleep on. God changed his heart and his life in that moment. This wealthy man now dons scuba gear and descends into the sewers every night to search for abandoned children living in the most squalid conditions imaginable. He gives food, clothes, education and jobs to as many as he can.

Yes, many children suffer terribly because destructive sin entered a world meant for greater, more beautiful things. But God is not far off. He is as close as the one who reaches out to love the unlovable and rescue the lost, just as we have been loved and rescued by the King above all kings. And when that happens, right there, in the middle of darkness and poverty and hunger, a holy light shines and the Kingdom of God gets just a little bit bigger here in this fallen world.

Lord, would you wrap all the lonely street children up in a blanket of your love tonight? Would you send them dreams of hope and rescue? And then would you make those dreams come true? Jesus, you always seemed to hang around the places where orphaned children, and lepers, and the blind, and the lame lived their desperate and squalid lives. You reached out to the broken with compassion, love and healing. Then, because you knew that a healed body is not worth that much if the soul remains lost, you gave up your life to ransom our sin-stained lives from the pit. Jesus, use me to touch the hurting people of this world like you did. Show me how I can stop typing, get up off my comfortable office chair, and bring love and hope to those who need it most. I don’t want to waste my life in the comfort of my own home anymore. Jesus, send me out. Yes, and amen.

The poorest of the poor will find pasture, and the needy will lie down in safety. — Isaiah 14:30a

But Jesus called the children to him and said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.” — Luke 18:16

lenten journey, day 30 — a prayer for the lonely

During high school, I worked at a small, family-owned deli on Sunday afternoons. It was always slow on Sundays, so the owners’ kids and I would sit around one of the formica tables and play gin rummy for hours on end. When customers did come in, we would take turns helping them.

One day, a plainly dressed man in his late 50s came in and stood at the counter without acknowledging us as we played our game. I got up, put on my apron, and asked for his order.

“Just get me a sandwich,” he said. I can still remember the flat tone in his voice 30 years later.

“OK…what kind of sandwich would you like?” I asked, trying unsuccessfully to make eye contact.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said.

After he paid for the turkey and swiss on wheat that I had prepared, he sat at one of the tables, ate half the sandwich, and left without a word.

I have interacted with countless thousands of customers in my life, but this man is the only one I remember with so much clarity that it’s like a movie playing inside my head every time I think of him. And I think about him a lot. Why? Because he wore loneliness like a shroud. And because I just kept on playing cards while he ate alone.

For many years, I prayed that God would send him a friend, or a wife, or even a little dog that would wag its tail and jump up and down every time he came home. Then, as the years slipped away, I prayed that he wouldn’t have to take his last breath with nothing but the TV to keep him company.

I suspect that the sandwich man is long dead. And it’s too late now to get up from my stupid card game to sit with him while he ate his supper.

Father, I’m so sorry for all the divine appointments I have been too selfish or preoccupied or busy to keep over the years. I have no doubt that the sandwich man was one of those appointments. Lord, I don’t ever want to shrug off someone’s loneliness like that again. From the moment you breathed life into Adam in the Garden, you knew that we would need other people nearby to laugh with, to cry with, to work with, and to play with. God, would you make your presence known to the lonely tonight? They’re like lost sheep who need the nearness of the herd; be the Good Shepherd and rescue them from their seclusion. Then send them a friend. I’d like to be their friend, Lord. Would you take my eyes off the card games in my life so that I can see the lonely, lost sheep all around me? Yes, and amen.

The Lord God said, "It is not good for the man to be alone.”
— Genesis 2:18a

God sets the lonely in families… — Psalm 68:6a

lenten journey, day 29 — a prayer for the innocents

There are some memories that God in his mercy preserves forever. They are moments indelibly written on our hearts, because our minds are so prone to making a muddled mess of the past. One of my most cherished heart memories is the first time I saw my son—which wasn’t when he emerged all purple and wrinkled and squinty-eyed at nine months, but much earlier in his life. He was a mere 6 weeks old and about the size of a raisin.

I had reason to believe I might be having a miscarriage, so we visited the doctor for a “welfare check,” so to speak. We needed to see if our baby had died. Since this was my first pregnancy, I had no idea what to expect when the ultrasound technician started working on my still very flat belly. What I experienced that day will stay with me forever.

I saw a baby. A tiny little baby with parts that looked surprisingly like mine. He’d only been alive for about 45 days, but he was already growing the arms that would one day hug my neck, and the legs that would carry him up the steps of the bright yellow bus on his first day of school. His head bent slightly forward, much like it does now when he prays to the One who knit him together so amazingly in my womb. And he already had developed his tender, loving, passionate heart (which to our relief beat strongly with the speedy rhythm unique to tiny babes).

What I remember most about that day was the deep protectiveness that overwhelmed me and forever defined who I would be to this little life. He was a true innocent, and he needed me to carry him…in the womb…in my heart…and in all his years as my son.

Here’s another heart memory snapshot. Our dear little friend Chris was born with a severe genetic disorder that kept him tiny and babyish and caused him many, many severe health problems. In my heart, I see Chris sitting on his special stool, watching Barney on the television. His face, so physically distorted by his condition, is radiant and joyful and trusting. And so very, very innocent.

Another vivid picture: My Great Aunt Doris lying in a hospital bed, debilitated by a severe stroke, struggling with her final breaths before rushing headlong into the arms of Jesus. She has no say in what is going on around her. She cannot tell the doctors or nurses what she needs, she cannot ask us to honor whatever last wishes she might have. In these moments, Aunt Doris is a helpless, dependent innocent.

The word innocent, as I am using it here, has nothing to do with guilt, but everything to do with the fact that there are many who have no voice and no say in the decisions that affect their lives. Tiny raisin babies do not have the ability to tell us that life and love and ice cream and ladybugs and Barney and learning to know Jesus are experiences they want to embrace. The severely handicapped may not be able to tell us that their lives, though different from ours, are beautiful, much-loved lives just the same. And those near death often cannot speak of their wishes for the days that remain.

In their innocence, they trust us to do the right thing. May God graciously infuse our hearts with his overwhelming love for the helpless and the voiceless. And may we shower the innocents in our lives with the perfect love and abundant life we ourselves have received.

Jesus, there was never a time when you did not show compassion and love to the innocent. There was never a time when you gave us permission to do anything less than completely love those who have no voice. Would you change our hearts and mend our turbulent lives and whisper messages of mercy in our ears so that we can be people who love the innocent as you do? Would you remind us that caring for the innocent has less to do with legislation and everything to do with being transformed by You? Lord, pour out your affection until it forms a vast ocean of love covering the voiceless and the powerful alike…an ocean of love where we are all buoyed by the great Lover of our souls and the Author of our lives. Yes, and amen.

Rescue the weak and needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked. — Psalm 82:2-4

(Love) always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. — 1 Corinthians 13:7-8

selah

My Love For You
by Jeremy Riddle

This is how I love You
I obey your commands
To love truth and love justice
And my fellow man

To steady the weak
And the hungry to feed
That Christ might be honored
And with me be pleased

For this is the love
The love You have shown
And to love I must echo
The love I have known
So I will be faithful
To love as required
A love shown by obedience
Lord I’ll be obedient

This is how I love You
Giving as I’ve received
The blessings You’ve lavished
To others in need

To care for the poor
To free the oppressed
To stand for the orphan
And the widow to bless

If I have not love
Then I truly have
Nothing at all

Here now is love
The love You have shown
And to love I must echo
The love I have known
So I will be faithful
To love as required
A love shown by obedience
Lord I’ll be obedient

lenten journey, day 28 — a prayer for the ashamed

Most of us have a voice that whispers accusingly in our ear. Though unwelcome, this voice is difficult to silence and oh so easy to believe. “You should be ashamed of yourself,” it says. “No one as guilty as you could ever stand in the presence of a holy God,” it taunts.

It is a voice from the pit.

Though the human race is fallen by choice and covered in flesh by design, we are made in God’s image, with something of his perfect plan for creation still rattling around in our DNA. C.S. Lewis calls this the Natural Law—an innate understanding of the best, most desirable way to live. It’s a law that everyone understands and everyone breaks.

I truly do believe that most people want to live “good” lives. You don’t have to be a believer to know that generosity is preferable to selfishness, that love is better than hate, that peace is better than strife. Even the littlest child (who probably deep down inside knows that the cosmos exists for her pleasure alone), wants so badly for her mommy and daddy to think she is a “good” child that she actually learns to curb her selfishness.

Yet our attempts to lead “good” lives will always come up short, because, honestly, we’re just not that good. We’re fallen, we’re broken, we’re enslaved by flesh and enthralled by desires. And because we know we’re so far from where we really need to be, we’re vulnerable to the voice from the pit when it speaks guilt and shame into our lives.

But for those who have put their faith in Christ, God lives and breathes in and through us. We wear his righteousness like a beautiful cashmere sweater that covers up the tattered, imperfect, and downright ugly sin-rags underneath. Simply put, when God looks at us, he sees Jesus. And no amount of good or bad behavior on our part will ever change that.

We’re not guilty anymore. Period. Now…you can try to whisper in my ear all you want, you lying voice from the pit. But I won’t be listening.

God of all mercy, thank you for rescuing me from a lifetime of believing the voice from the pit. Thank you for sending your son Jesus to pay such an extravagant ransom for me. You have truly bought me and freed me. Would you use me to speak the truth of your redemption into the lives of the guilt-stricken and the ashamed? Would you put in me great affection for those who do not see any way out of the despair that comes from leading a disappointing life? Jesus, you came that we might have life, and have it more abundantly. And in your abundant life, there is simply no room for shame and self-reproach. Yes, and amen.

Those who look to him are radiant; their faces are never covered with shame. — Psalm 34:5

Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death. — Romans 8:1-2

lenten journey, day 27 — a prayer for animists

So many of the unreached people groups in the world are animists who believe in the presence of a spirit realm that controls their fate. In animist traditions, these sprits—which indwell living and inanimate objects alike—are unpredictable and quick to punish.

Animists are typically enslaved by fear and consumed with anxiety about the acceptability of their animal sacrifices. They have never really known true hope, because they do not see any real improvement in health or living conditions, despite continual sacrifices to idols and repeated ceremonies to appease the spirits.

It grieves my heart that so many lost souls from every continent are in bondage to a belief system built on dread and worry, rather than love and mercy.

Forty years ago, on Uno Island off the coast of Guinea-Bissau in west Africa, the power of God’s sacrificial love triumphed over the animist spirit realm when an entire village put its faith in Christ. The village was unbearably poor, with humans and animals alike starving to death. Their only drinking water came from a dirty, slimy pool. Despite all the animal sacrifices performed by the witch doctor, nothing ever got better.

Then some Christians visited the village, bringing words of hope and acts of kindness. When the Christians saw all the sacrifices being made by the witch doctor, they told the village about the one sacrifice that changed everything and brought hope and healing to the world. Then, because talk of Jesus means little unless the practical love of Jesus is given as well, the Christians funded and dug a well. AND they translated the entire Bible into the local language. One by one the villagers gave their lives to Christ, but the chief clung to the old ways…until he saw what a difference the clean well water made. Then he burned all his idols and embraced the transcendent love of Christ, too. The villagers told others how Jesus had freed them from their fear, and now there are Christians on other Guinea-Bissau islands, too.

This story, and others like it from animist cultures around the world, shows that Jesus truly came to set the captives free, to break every chain, and to grant a yoke that is easy for all those who love him.

Gracious God, my heart breaks for my brothers and sisters around the world who rise each morning with fear in their hearts. If I am filled with sorrow by their bondage, how much more must you weep over their anxious lives? But thank you, Lord, that you have promised to draw every nation, tribe and tongue to yourself. There is rescue coming for the men, women and children who are bound to animist tradition! May you hasten the day of jubilee for these children of yours, calling many in the church to go and share your love in remote areas of the world. Oh God, make me more like you by giving me an unrelenting desire to see the church rise up and serve the lost. Oh God, give me a heart that would not even hesitate to say “yes” if it was called to be one of those servants. Yes, and amen.

Those who cling to worthless idols forfeit the grace that could be theirs. — Jonah 2:8

I am the LORD; that is my name! I will not give my glory to another or my praise to idols. — Isaiah 42:8

lenten journey, day 26 — a prayer for the fatherless

I spent the first 28 years of my life proclaiming variations on this theme: “Who needs a father, anyway?” And I meant it. At least until my son was born, and I saw for the first time in my life what a father actually brings to a family: fierce love, strong protection, selfless provision, and…well…exuberant play.

Sure, I could give boo-boo-all-better kisses and spoon mushy orange food into wide open mouths all day long. But the whole "sit-on-my- shoulders-while-we-pointlessly-chase-the-dog-around-the-house" thing was just not one of my gifts. Yet it was a gift my children desperately needed.

You know what else I couldn’t do? I couldn’t break up concrete with a sledgehammer, or lay on my back under a car for an hour while oil dripped on my face, or answer the door in the middle of the night with a gruff “What do you want?”

I wasn’t very good at turning a box into a pirate ship, or turning a boy into a man. I couldn’t demonstrate to my daughters what a true hero looks like so that they’d know one when they met one. And I sure couldn’t give them the fatherly love that would enable them to just skip right over the whole “Fatherless Daughter Game” that has one simple—but dangerous—rule: “Date lots of boys and get them to love you, because you’ve never actually had a male-type person love you before, and it sure makes you feel secure when they do.”

Yep, children need fathers. But the reality is that fathers are kind of scarce these days, and a fatherless home is an at-risk home. 85% of children with behavior disorders, 75% of all adolescent patients in chemical abuse centers, and 85% of all youths in prison come from fatherless homes. 63% of young people committing suicide are fatherless.

I think this is why God speaks so protectively of the fatherless in scripture; He knows that what they really need more than anything else is a daddy. And our gracious Father in Heaven says, in that loving and protective way a daddy says such things, “I’ll do it if you let me. I’ve got your back!”

If growing up without an earthly father was an incomplete way for me to grow up, it was also a way to learn more quickly and more wholly what it might take others a lifetime to discover: God is an awesome Father. And His love will never abandon, move on, find another family he likes better, or forget what my middle name is. I am truly blessed to call him Abba.

Father, thank you that you invite us to call you our Father. Thank you that you have demonstrated over and over again that your heart is for the fatherless and for the broken. Thank you that you have graciously given my own children an amazing earthly father. Please help more men to be the fathers their children deserve. Would you place a burning ember in the hearts of men who are strong, stable fathers to become involved as mentors and role models for young boys who have never known a father’s influence? And would you give each single mom a plentiful daily supply of “oil for her lamp” so that the flame of love and care for her children will never go out? God, you love us more passionately and completely than any earthly parent ever could. May I honor you, my Father, with everything I am. Yes, and amen.

”How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!…” — 1 John 3:1

”But you, O God, do see trouble and grief; you consider it to take it in hand. The victim commits himself to you; you are the helper of the fatherless.” — Psalm 10:14

lenten journey, day 25 — a prayer for bam

When it comes to natural disasters, we have a pretty short attention span. Think hard…when was the last time you heard an update on the Indian Ocean tsunami that killed an estimated 230,000 people on December 26, 2004? It’s been just two years, yet we’ve moved on in every way possible. I wonder if any of the devastated nations have even begun to recover?

And what about Bam? You know…the city in Iran that was almost completely flattened by an earthquake on December 26, 2003? (Notice anything coincidental about the dates of these two disasters?) More than 25,000 died that day, and 200,000 were left homeless. Are we to believe that all is well now in Bam?

As it turns out, things are not going that great for the survivors in Bam. The Red Crescent (the muslim counterpart of the Red Cross) has a series of upbeat reports on its website, but reading between the lines shows how much more needs to be done:

• 119 clinics and hospitals were destroyed by the earthquake; 4 have been rebuilt.
• 131 schools were reduced to rubble; 9 have been reconstructed.
• Two years after the disaster, only 1,700 of 20,000 destroyed homes within the city itself had been restored.

As I was searching for information on Bam, I was not able to locate a single organization besides the Red Crescent that is still actively funding reconstruction or ministering to the still-hurting people of that city. Because Iran is essentially closed to missionaries, the church is limited in its ability to respond in a hands-on way.

Has the world’s commitment to help faded now that the media spotlight has moved on? Or maybe it’s just that there are so many desperate needs in the world, that we can’t possibly help everyone needing long-term assistance.

What I have realized in these 25 days of prayer so far is that I need to spend a lot more time on my face before God, pleading with him on behalf of the billions of hurting, hungry, sick, desperate, and thoroughly lost people of this world. I may not be able to hop on a plane and build houses for earthquake victims in Iran, but I certainly can intercede for the people of Bam, and the people of Iran, and the people of the Middle East, and the people of Asia, and the people of the northern hemisphere, and all the people on earth. May God’s light shine in the midst of despair whenever the tears of the saints are shed for those who hurt.

Father, sometimes it seems that there is so much to pray for. How can we possibly keep up? Thank you for gently reminding me that the Holy Spirit will help me pray when I simply don’t have the words to do so. Oh Lord, would you make your presence felt in Bam tonight? Would you send enough provision for each day’s needs as the people of that city struggle to reclaim the lives that were so devastated three years ago? Would you open the door for believers to lovingly minister to the hurting and the brokenhearted people of Bam? Lord, please, be not far off for all who need you tonight. Yes, and amen.

In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. — Romans 8:26

May my prayer be set before you like incense; may the lifting up of my hands be like the evening sacrifice. — Psalm 141:2

lenten journey, day 24 — a prayer for colombia

In Medellin, Colombia, there is a maximum security prison called Bellavista, or “Beautiful View.” Seriously…what kind of name is that for a super-fortified prison in the drug- and crime-capital of one of the world’s most violent countries? To the casual observer, there is nothing beautiful about Bellavista. Filled with hardened thieves, murderers and drug traffickers, it is a place that has languished in darkness for many, many years. But here’s the thing about darkness: a little bit of light can attract a lot of notice. And something very worthy of notice is going on at Bellavista.

But first, a bit of background on Colombia…

Your coffee might have been grown there. And if you’re a cocaine user, there’s a 75% chance that your drug of choice came from Colombia, too. As if 170 years of bloody civil wars and cruel dictators weren’t enough, violent guerilla groups and drug cartels have held a reign of terror over Colombia in recent decades. The country’s frequent murders and kidnappings have made it one of the 10 most bloody conflicts in the world, according to the International Institute for Peace.

Many thousands of children live on the streets of Colombia’s largest cities. Their parents are dead, addicted, or imprisoned. The slums in Bogota, Medillin and Cali are cesspools of poverty and despair, yet people continue to move into them to escape the violence of guerilla groups and drug cartels in the countryside.

Ah, but our God is amazing. Even Colombia is not too far gone for his mighty hand to lead the people out of bondage. With an overwhelming passion, God loves the orphans and the slum dwellers and the street children and the drug traffickers and the prisoners of Colombia. And he has chosen to work his mighty redemption in their midst!

OK...back to Bellavista. Several years ago a former inmate came to know Jesus, and he returned to prison to tell others about how his life had been changed from the inside out. More prisoners placed their faith in Jesus, and the darkness that covered Bellavista like a shroud began to lift. There’s a Bible school in Bellavista now. There are prisoners who have organized 24/7 prayer for Bellavista and their country. And daily prison worship services are broadcast nationwide via a radio program called “A Cry of Hope.” People outside the prison walls are coming to know Jesus through this broadcast and the loving ministry of Christians. In fact, in some cities, the number of evangelical Christians has grown 20-fold in the last 10 years!

The light grows brighter each time one of these lost Colombian lambs is reunited with the Good Shepherd. And though the darkness may try to intimidate those who follow Christ, no amount of persecution can stop God from bringing his light and salvation to the people of Colombia.

God, thank you for bringing your brilliant, pure light to the beautiful people of Colombia. For so many years they have been oppressed by terror and intimidation. They have been enslaved by addiction and beaten down by violence. Yet you are reaching out in love to give them new lives through the blood of Jesus. Would you continue to help those who are helpless in Colombia? Would you rise up a courageous church that will minister to the poor and oppressed, even in the face of intimidation and threats from violent groups? Would you draw me to my knees more often to intercede for Colombia? You are the God of the Nations. Colombia belongs to you. Yes, and amen.

“…even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.” — Psalm 139:12

“The Lord has taken away your punishment, he has turned back your enemy. The Lord, the King of Israel, is with you; never again will you fear any harm.” — Zephaniah 3:15

lenten journey, day 23 — a prayer for the grieving

In the past week or two, I have been an observer of grief. Not that I wanted to be. The act of grieving seems so intense, and so private, that when you look at it—observe it—from a place outside of the grief itself, you almost feel like a voyeur.

Last Thursday, I watched as a sweet teenage boy choked back tears while paying tribute to his mom, who had passed away from brain cancer. Nearby, his two very young brothers sobbed onto their dad’s shoulders, probably not fully grasping why their mom was not there to dry their tears…but somehow sensing that there was something very, very final about the words being spoken in her honor.

Later, on the news, I heard about a formerly on-top-of-the-world musician who had taken his own life and left a note that read, simply: “J'ai une ame solitaire. I am a lonely soul.” Was the heart-shattering grief of his friends and family amplified by guilt and self-blame when they read those words?

Then there was the email I received requesting prayer for a young mom whose husband collapsed suddenly. An aneurysm had claimed his life. Did this new widow and her newly fatherless 3-year-old daughter cling tightly to each other as their tears formed an ocean of grief around them? Days later, are they still clinging and rocking and crying and sinking in the indescribable depths of their loss?

Somewhere at this very moment, a baby is dying in her grief-stricken mommy’s arms. And somewhere a strong young man lies lifeless on a dirty, blood-stained street—the sorrow felt by his family a bitter footnote in the history of man’s inhumanity to man. And somewhere, maybe in my very own neighborhood, bad news…heartbreaking news…grief…has come to call at a home where laughter and happiness once lived.

Is God, like me, a mere observer of grief? Or is he more actively involved? Is he right there in the midst of all that pain, catching every tear in the palm of his hand, perhaps even crying right along with us?

I believe with everything in me that where grief dwells, God dwells. And here’s why:

“He pulled away from them about a stone's throw, knelt down, and prayed, ‘Father, remove this cup from me. But please, not what I want. What do you want?’ At once an angel from heaven was at his side, strengthening him. He prayed on all the harder. Sweat, wrung from him like drops of blood, poured off his face.” — Luke 22:41-44 (from The Message)

This is the account of a completely grief-stricken Jesus praying in the Garden of Gethsemane before his crucifixion. He knew that unbearable pain was coming. He knew that soon he would feel the complete, heart-rending, grief-fueled desolation of separation from the Father. “Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?…My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?”

The thought of Father and Son, who had known no separateness, being wrenched apart on the cross makes we want to weep in misery and in gratitude.

Our God is not naïve of our sufferings. When he became one of us, he experienced the full spectrum of human emotion. Even grief and loss. How incredible that he desired and chose that pain.

Jesus, what can I say but “thank you”? Thank you for stepping down into this messy world and living among our brokenness. Thank you for choosing pain. Thank you for choosing loss. Thank you for choosing me. It is so very comforting to know that there is no place we can journey in this world where you have not already been. Lord, would you wrap your love around the heartbroken like a blanket tonight? Would you make me an instrument of your peace when those around me grieve? Would you give me a heart that truly weeps with those who weep and rejoices with those who rejoice? I can’t do it on my own, but you can do it through me. Be Christ in me. Yes, and amen.

“He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering. Like one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not.” — Isaiah 53:3

“He took Peter and the two sons of Zebedee along with him, and he began to be sorrowful and troubled. Then he said to them, ‘My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me.’” — Matthew 26:37-38

selah

Ahhhh…sweet sabbath rest. May this draw you closer to Jesus today.

lenten journey, day 22 — a prayer for the ridiculed

The world conditions us from a very young age to change our behavior in the face of ridicule, insult, and bullying. When our daughter’s mismatched outfit draws laughter instead of compliments, she doesn’t wear it again. When our son’s awkward athletic abilities are mocked, he stays inside while his pals play football. As adults, we’re not much different. We conform, we bite our tongues, we look the other way…all in an attempt to fit in. Yes, the world wants so desperately to make us its own.

But, as Jesus so succinctly put it, his Kingdom “is not of this world” (John 18:36). And as followers of Christ, we are called to citizenship in that beautiful, upside-down Kingdom. A Kingdom where good is brought out of evil (Genesis 50:15, Romans 8:28). Where the last will be first, and the first will be last (Matthew 19:29-30). Where persecution for Jesus’ sake is a blessing, not a curse (Matthew 5:10).

Simply put, we’re called to be profoundly, noticeably, and unwaveringly different—at work, at home, in traffic, at Applebees, on the sidelines at the game, everywhere. And we should not be surprised when our otherworldliness leads to ridicule. The Apostle Paul, who suffered intensely for the gospel, was very matter-of-fact about the treatment believers should expect: “…everyone who wants to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted” (2 Timothy 3:12).

When we first believed, God in his mercy gave us a glimpse of what a new life in Christ could look like. And we were changed. And through the years, as we suffer ridicule for our tendency to be total misfits in this world, a deep spiritual truth is revealed: a life built on Jesus might be risky, but a “safe” life built on any other foundation is no life at all.

Lord, help me to remember my true citizenship when the world tries to silence the good news I am called to share. Help me to remember that even in the midst of ridicule, you have promised a blessing to those who suffer for the sake of your righteousness. I confess that there are times, even after all these years of walking with you, that my allegience is more to the world than to you. Lord, forgive my fickle heart and lead me back to the narrow path I'm called to walk. Jesus, I belong solely to you. May I never stop pointing the way to the sometimes-risky, always-abundant life You came to offer. Yes, and amen.

”Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” — Matthew 5:10

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything." — James 1:2-4

lenten journey, day 21 — a prayer for the thirsty

Yesterday, after I posted my prayer for the Taimani Aimaq people, I had a nagging sense of incompleteness. I re-read the post and prayed over it and waited for God to show me what I had missed. What I eventually heard from him was this: “You have interceded for their spiritual thirst. But what about their physical thirst?”

In my sadness that the Taimani had been named the top unreached people group in all the world, I had completely missed the significance of this line: “There is limited access to clean water…”

Yesterday, my heart was truly broken because the Taimani Aimaq people have not experienced the life-changing presence of Christ. But I didn’t offer a single breath in prayer for their desperate need for the life-giving presence of clean water.

Here is what it means to be a Christian: yes, we should long to see every man, woman, and child lift high the name of Jesus…but we should also tend to the physical, emotional, and spiritual needs of God’s children in practical and compassionate ways.

The love Christ poured into us when he went to the cross is not meant to stay hidden away in our hearts and our holy huddles. It is meant to overflow into the empty, aching lives of those whom Jesus called “the least of these.” The kind of love he modeled for us on the cross was not theoretical, nor was it tidy. In death, Christ’s love was sacrificial, it was tangible, and it was messy. How can we think our own love should be anything less?

So, besides interceding in prayer (which is a powerful first step), what can I do about the physical thirst of the Taimani Aimaq people? Honestly, I don’t yet know. I haven’t identified any organizations that focus on clean water issues in Afghanistan. But I have taken some time to educate myself on the injustice of contaminated water worldwide:

• 20% of the world’s population does not have access to clean water. Here is what this means in practical terms: Over one billion people must drink water that contains animal waste, parasitic worms, and bacteria. The water they drink often resembles mud more than the clean, sparkling stuff we take for granted. Oh, and they sometimes have to walk for miles just to get a drink of this filth.
• 25,000 people die every day from water-borne diseases.
• Among children, contaminated water causes 80% of all diseases and claims the lives of five million kids per year.
• Right now, half the world’s hospital beds are occupied by patients suffering from water-borne diseases.
• 1.5 billion people are infected with parasitic worms from contaminated water.
• In China, India and Indonesia, twice as many people die from diarrhea than from AIDS.
• Contaminated water substantially hastens suffering and death among those infected with HIV, due to their compromised immune systems.
• Water-borne diseases are preventable.
• blood:water mission is an outstanding organization that provides clean water wells in Africa.

The world is crying out for water. Even though we do not see the faces of the thirsty or share their plight, will we—will I?—help give them a drink in Christ’s name?

Jesus, when you died, blood and water flowed from your side and mingled together. Cleansing blood and living water, all for us. Amazing. Lord, I long to share the beautiful news of a living water that forever satisfies the thirsty soul. But may I also long to bring a cup of clean drinking water to those who so desperately need it. You would do that. Yes, you definitely would do that. Make me more like you. Yes, and amen.

“Again Jesus said, ‘Simon son of John, do you truly love me?’
He answered, ‘Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.’
Jesus said, ‘Take care of my sheep.’” — John 21:15

“They were hungry and thirsty, and their lives ebbed away.
Then they cried out to the LORD in their trouble,
and he delivered them from their distress.” — Psalm 107:5-6

lenten journey, day 20 — a prayer for the taimani aimaq

According to The Joshua Project, which identifies and highlights people groups around the world with little or no exposure to the Gospel, The Taimani Aimaq of Afghanistan are the #1 unreached people group on the planet.

How sad. How unimaginable and discouraging that there is a group whose “claim to fame” is complete ignorance of Jesus.

Of the half million Taimani people, none are known to be Christians. None.

Sadder still is the fact that the Taimani, whose lives have been ripped to pieces for decades by internal and external strife in Afghanistan, have no promise of hope to cling to. As very religious Sunni Muslims, the semi-nomadic Taimani have little beauty or joy in their lives. The harsh mountainous region where they make their home is remote and inhospitable. There is limited access to clean water, and virtually no medical care.

Yet glimpses of God’s loving provision are found in the beautiful woolen carpets woven by Taimani women. Patterns unique to each tribe are passed down from mother to daughter, and money earned from completed carpets is often the only means of survival for Taimani families. These works of art are truly lovely and echo the beauty of the One who blessed the Taimani with their weaving skills.

While Afghanistan is more open now than it has been in many decades, courageous missionaries and new believers alike need God’s hand of protection in a huge way. Many who share the Gospel have been killed, and those who put their faith in Jesus often meet the same fate. But God has a plan for the Taimani people and all of Afghanistan…a plan to see the name of Jesus exalted above all other gods! I am continually amazed and encouraged by the stories told by those ministering in strictly Muslim countries—stories of unreached people experiencing dreams and visions of Jesus months in advance of anyone sharing the Gospel. May God continue to pour out his Spirit as he draws the Taimani and all unreached people to himself!

Oh Jesus, the Taimani Aimaq need you so badly. But many don’t even know it, because they simply haven’t heard. I can’t imagine being a stranger to your grace. I can’t fathom being unacquainted with the hope of your salvation. I can’t begin to grasp worship that isn’t all for you. Just as the Taimani weave their beautiful rugs, would you weave together a team of workers to bring hope and the good news of salvation to these precious people? Would you send dreams and visions to the Taimani to prepare their hearts for the Gospel? When each Taimani man, woman and child finally hears the name of Jesus, I pray that they would experience a fierce burning in their heart as evidence of you. Lord, please give the Taimani a hope and a future in you. Yes, and amen.

“…I will pour out my Spirit on all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your old men will dream dreams, your young men will see visions.” — Joel 2:28

“‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’” — Jeremiah 29:11

lenten journey, day 19 — a prayer for less pride

Pride is a cancer. It grows within us, often undetected, until all our humility is eventually consumed. And when pride is left unchecked, something dies—maybe a friendship, a ministry, the respect of peers, or even our proper view of God.

Yet from a very young age, the world teaches us that pride can be a virtue. We’re to be proud of coloring inside the lines, proud of our academic honors, proud of our IQ, proud of our talents, proud of our income, proud of our wise choices, proud of our children. If we’re not proud of these things, then we’re surely suffering from low self-esteem. We might even be (gasp!) doormats, destined to be walked on by those with more confidence. Worst of all, we might actually be accused of false humility.

As pride puts down deep roots in our hearts, we begin to think and speak endlessly of ourselves and our problems/successes (depending on the sort of day we’re having). The world is our audience, held in rapt attention by our fascinating life experiences. We are the center of our universe.

I will confess that the sin of pride has been a lifelong struggle for me. There are vivid snapshots I hold in my head of specific times when wicked pride caused strife and pain and regret. Some might say that the enemy is taunting me with these memories; but I say that God, in his mercy, has preserved them as high-definition reminders of the consequence of this cancerous sin.

And I freely admit that God has been a diligent Father, correcting me in the most painful ways at times, when my haughtiness or self-righteousness try to seat me on a throne that can only be occupied by him. Proverbs 16:18 says “Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall.” If my life had a motto, this proverb would surely be in the running. Yes…God’s pruning really, really hurts sometimes! But a pruned vine will always bear more and sweeter fruit than one left to grow improperly. So the cutting is a kindness, really.

So how can the disease of pride be cured? If I knew, then I probably wouldn’t continue to wrestle with it on a daily basis. But what I do know is this: all good things come from the gracious hand of God. If there is any talent, any blessing, any goodness in my life, it is a gift—an undeserved gift—meant to glorify the Giver. When I manage to remember this, it resizes and humbles me.

Gracious Father, may the purpose of all my remaining days be to make much of you, and little of me. Lord, I ask for more pruning. Resize me. Take my pride and rip it out by the roots. It is a cruel cancer, and I need your healing. I understand that this is probably a dangerous prayer to pray…but God I’m so desperate for more of you in my life that I’m willing to be broken in the process. Thank you that salvation comes only through the atoning sacrifice of Jesus, so that I can't boast in my own good works, but only in the cross of Christ. Yes, and amen.

“For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast.” — Ephesians 2:8-9

“In his pride the wicked does not seek him; in all his thoughts there is no room for God.” — Psalm 10:4

lenten journey, day 18 — a prayer for the yao people

I’m not exactly sure why the Yao people of Southeast Asia piqued my interest. But I suspect it may have something to do with the fact that they believe they are descended from a dragon-dog named Pan Hu and, as such, were declared by the emperor in 3000 B.C. to be a whole new type of human being.

Either that, or that fact that the women wear outrageously fluffy red collars on their jackets…

Savvy in the ways of business and culturally sophisticated, the Yao are a proud and successful people. By all accounts, they are friendly and open and very hospitable. Their keen eye for beauty is evidenced by the elaborately embroidered trousers and jackets they create. Yet, like so many unreached people groups, many Yao are bound by tradition—and fear—to the appeasement of a complex spirit world believed to be in control of all aspects of life. They are also financially burdened by very expensive Taoist rituals, including lavish marriage ceremonies that can only take place if good omens permit. Their special status as children of the dragon-dog means that small celebrations are simply out of the question!

Actually, the Yao people’s origin myth is one I can completely relate to. No, I don’t have any dragon-dogs in my ancestry. And no, the emperor has not declared me a revolutionary genetic breakthrough. But, like the Yao, I believe I am a new creation…a whole new kind of person. Where we part ways, however, is in the definition of “new creation.”

You see, I have been completely renovated from the inside out by the atoning sacrifice of Jesus. Through his saving work on the cross, my despair has turned to hope. Seeking has given way to belonging. Fear has been conquered by joy. And in him, there is no longer any condemnation. I am an adopted daughter of the King…an all new person in him.

Now that’s something worthy of a lavish celebration!

Merciful Father-of-All, thank you that your children have so many different ways of expressing the creative nature you placed within us. I can imagine the pleasure you must take in the Yao people’s beautiful embroidery skills, their whimsical hats and fluffy, red collars. But I can also imagine the longing you must have for their hearts. Lord, would you raise up strong Yao Christian leaders who will reach out to their neighbors with the good news of Jesus? Would you place courage in their hearts so that they would no longer be bound by fear of the spirit world? Lord, embolden me to tell others my own “origin story”—the story of how I became a new creation in Christ. Yes, and amen.

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!” — 2 Corinthians 5:17

“I will say to the north, 'Give them up!' and to the south, 'Do not hold them back.' Bring my sons from afar and my daughters from the ends of the earth—everyone who is called by my name, whom I created for my glory, whom I formed and made.” — Isaiah 43:6-7

lenten journey, day 17 — a prayer for the forgotten

Tonight at work, my coworker inquired about the health of a mutual friend who has been ill. My heart sank as I realized that it had been some time since I’d heard an update on her condition, and I had simply (this is so hard to admit) forgotten all about her.

I’m not saying I merely neglected to pray or couldn’t find time to call. No, when I say I forgot, I mean it’s like I never knew she was sick in the first place. God help me…I’m a worm.

As I was driving home, I started thinking about other recent forgettings. There was my friend who emailed to tell me about a major life change she was undertaking. I printed the message out, promptly misplaced it, and forgot all about writing or calling with encouragement. Then there was the time last week that I completely forgot my commitment to read to my daughter’s class. I haven’t gotten around to introducing myself to the new neighbors who moved in months ago. And I haven’t called my mom in two weeks. Yes, I’m a worm.

Forgetfulness is really just the bitter fruit of selfishness. And we are (or at least I am) so disturbingly selfish. Our self-centered, fallen world is populated by the forgetful and the forgotten. We wander aimlessly from place to place and person to person, trying desperately to remember what it is we’re supposed to be doing.

We may forget about each other, but there is One who doesn’t forget about us. It is simply not in his nature to abandon, forsake, let go, or fail to remember even the least of his children. Throughout scripture, God remembers his promises to his children (Genesis 9:15, Exodus 2:24, Luke 1:72-73). He remembers to abundantly grant his own mercy and love (Psalm 25:6, Luke 1:54). He remembers us, even when we forget or stray from him (a truth beautifully communicated through the parables of the lost sheep, the lost coin, and the lost son—all in Luke 15).

Of course, there is one pretty important thing that God does forget. For those who have placed their faith in Christ Jesus, he graciously forgets that we’re worms. In his desire to erase who we were before the righteousness of Christ made us a new creation, he hurls all our sins and iniquities into the depths of the sea, never to be remembered again. And that’s a truth worth clinging to.

God, I spread my hands before your throne and thank you for remembering the forgotten ones of this world. I ask you to look upon them with kindness and mercy and to give them sweet glimpses of the One who cannot forget his children. Lord, how amazing you are to love a selfish, forgetful worm like me. You remember me—my name, my needs, my hurts, even the number of hairs on my head—yet because of Jesus, you forget all that once separated me from you. Oh Father, would you continue to remember my desperate need for mercy and forgiveness? Would you help me to remember the needs and hurts of those around me? I long to bear the sweet fruit of faithfulness, not the bitter fruit of forgetfulness. Yes, and amen.

“Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands; your walls are ever before me.” — Isaiah 49:15-16

“Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God. Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.” — Luke 12:6-7

selah

Nothing Without You
by Bebo Norman

Take these hands and lift them up
For I have not the strength to praise You near enough
For I have nothing, I have nothing without You

Take my voice and pour it out
Let it sing the songs of mercy I have found
For I have nothing, I have nothing without You

All my soul needs
Is all Your love to cover me
So all the world will see
That I have nothing without You

Take my body and build it up
May it be broken as an offering of love
For I have nothing, I have nothing without You

All my soul needs
Is all Your love to cover me
So all the world will see
But I love You

With all my heart
With all my soul
With all my mind
And all the strength I can find

All my soul needs
Is all Your love to cover me
So all the world will see
I have nothing

Take my time here on earth
And let it glorify all that You are worth
For I am nothing, I am nothing, I am nothing without You


From the album Try
(Please do not download this song from the player.
Try may be purchased from Bebo’s website.)

lenten journey, day 16 —a prayer for the next generation

“Mind The Gap!” If you’ve ever ridden the Tube in London, you’ve heard this message blaring over loudspeakers and seen it painted and posted everywhere. It’s a warning—a warning that, if unheeded, might lead to dire consequences. (If you’re wondering how dire, you may wish to google the phrase “severed limbs.”)

At the heart of the warning to mind the gap is an admission that the man-made subway system is flawed. Speeding trains and soft, squishy human bodies don’t mix. One misstep into the gap between the platform and the rails, and a train alters your history.

Now imagine that the speeding train is life and the soft, squishy bodies at risk of being, um, squished, are a bunch of oblivious, carefree teens. Oh no! Mind the gap! Well, obviously they’re not going to mind anything. They’re invincible (and possibly brain dead). That’s where we come in. We must step up and mind the gap for them through intercession, discipleship, and love.

Why should we—no, why must we—pray and invest in their lives? Consider Psalm 78:6-7 (from The Message):

“…So the next generation would know,
and all the generations to come—
Know the truth and tell the stories
so their children can trust in God,
Never forget the works of God
but keep his commands to the letter.”

And if the potential to impact “all the generations to come” isn’t enough to drive you to your knees on behalf of the teenagers in your life, check out this heart-breaking video from battlecry.com.

Ninety percent of those who come to Christ will do so before they are age 20. Do we feel the holy urgency? Will we mind the gap?

Oh God. This truly is a war for the hearts and minds of the next generation. Give us the strength to lift up a mighty battle cry on their behalf. As we fight for this hurting generation on our knees, would you hear us from heaven? Would you intervene and stop the speeding train that is about to alter the history of our young people? Would you send revival and healing and rescue to those who are being bombarded unceasingly by the enemy? May the name of Jesus be lifted high in this and all future generations. And may I be available to do whatever it takes to mind the gap. Yes, and amen.

“I looked for a man among them who would build up the wall and stand before me in the gap on behalf of the land…” — Ezekiel 22:30

“His mercy extends to those who fear him, from generation to generation.” — Luke 1:50

lenten journey, day 15 — a prayer for the discouraged

This would be me today. Me and how many other millions (billions?) of other weary souls on this little blue dot spinning ceaselessly in the dark, vast universe? Even the air feels like it has weight today.

Of course, along with discouragement I'm also feeling a good bit of guilt about feeling discouraged. It's not like I'm orphaned or widowed. I'm not living in poverty or afflicted by a terrible disease. I haven't lost a loved one or been beset by natural disaster. I'm not enslaved or at risk of being martyred for my faith. I'm not a lost soul looking for my true home. But...

Even ice cream didn't help.

Abba, don't let go. OK?
Amen.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” — Matthew 11:28-30

“My soul is weary with sorrow; strengthen me according to your word.” — Psalm 119:28

lenten journey, day 14 — a prayer for the suburbs

Eleven years ago, we moved from a house in a highly urban setting (henceforth refered to as "a bad place to raise children") to a house in the suburbs ("a good place to raise children"). To be sure, suburbs have benefits: a big yard probably being the one that stood out most when we made the move to "a good place to raise children."

When former residents of "a bad place to raise children" move to the suburbs, there are certain dreams that take hold of their hearts and minds. Meaningful community. Strong values. Breakfasts eaten in sunny nooks. Dogs that play fetch and never dig up the daffodils. Children who giggle and snuggle and always say "please" and "thank you."

But what I have come to believe most about these "good places to raise children" is that they are a wilderness of spiritual yearning, populated by wandering people who just don't know how to fill the aching void at the center of their lives. The dreams that once engaged our hearts in such a winsome way become the obsessions that enslave our watches and our wallets. More status. More stuff. More selections. More successes. More...shoes. If only we could replace the drapes, our life would finally be complete! When Johnny makes it onto the soccer travel team, we'll have arrived at last!! A new SUV? Yes!!!

The land of plenty is not necessarily a place of rest. And the “good places to raise children” are not always the best places for the abundant life Christ came to give.

What would happen to our suburbs if we embraced the concept of Sabbath rest? What if suburban commuters redeemed their time in the car by using it for prayer or listening to audio books? What if we borrowed some sugar from the neighbor we occassionally wave to as we're backing out of our garage (what's their name again?). What if we actually got out of the mall long enough to love and serve our community? What if the suburbs became our mission field?

Revolutionary ideas, these. But what is the Kingdom of God if not a revolution?

Oh Jesus. I long to see your name lifted high in the "good places to raise children." We're all so desperate for You here in the suburbs, but sometimes we get confused and think we're desperate for a new sweater instead. Jesus, would you bring us your living water so we'll never thirst again? Would you bring the bread of life, so that our gnawing hunger would be satisfied? I want a life that is thick with your presence, Lord. Please, please forgive me for pushing you to the margins of my life as I surround myself with meaningless dust. Yes, and amen.

"Then Jesus declared, 'I am the bread of life. He who comes to me will never go hungry, and he who believes in me will never be thirsty.'" — John 6:35

"'Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?' Jesus replied: 'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself.'" — Matthew 22:36-38

lenten journey, day 13 — a prayer for the quechua people

Has your heart ever skipped a beat when you saw or read about a particular people group? Kind of like love at first sight, only for about a million people all at once? You see their pictures or hear their stories and you just know that God has appointed them to be people-of-your-heart.

The Quechua people are the people of my son’s heart. And because he loves them so much, they’ve become very dear to me as well. The Quechua live in the Andes Mountains of Peru, Ecuador and Bolivia. They are a beautiful people with weathered skin and inky black eyes and a penchant for mismatched, neon-colored clothing.

Like most native people groups, the Quechua have suffered some grave injustices throughout history. In the sixteenth century, the Spanish basically stole everything they had, and more recently the Quechua were terrorized by a Communist guerrilla group called the Shining Path. More than 20,000 Quechua people were killed by this group in the 1980s and 1990s.

Romulo Saune was a well known Quechuan Christian leader who was martyred by the Shining Path because of his efforts to share the Gospel among his people. As a boy, Romulo had looked after his family’s sheep, and when he came to know and follow Jesus his favorite verses in the Bible where ones that described Jesus as the Good Shepherd. Romulo translated the Bible into one of the Quechua dialects so that all Quechuans would have the opportunity to embrace the Good Shepherd as he had.

Romulo may have been killed, but the Quechuan wave of faith continues to grow 15 years after his death. Romulo’s widow teaches women so they can read the Bible for themselves, and entire mountain villages are coming to know Jesus. But what about the Shining Path? God in his mercy heard the prayers of Christians worldwide and restored peace to Peru. May those who would place God’s people in bondage never again rise up among the Quechua people.

Father, pour your lavish affection over every man, woman and child in the towns and villages of the Andes. You are the Good Shepherd; would you gather up these precious Quechuan lambs and carry them close to your heart? Thank you for striking down the Shining Path, which tried in vain to keep you away from the Quechuan people. May every day without conflict be a reminder that Jesus is the Prince of Peace as well as the Good Shepherd. God, please continue to multiply our family’s love for the people of Peru and forgive me for the days when these people-of-my-heart are the last thing on my mind. Yes, and amen.

“I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me—just as the Father knows me and I know the Father—and I lay down my life for the sheep.” — John 10:14-15

“We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.” — 2 Corinthians 4:8-9

lenten journey, day 12 — a prayer for widows

This is my gramma, Joanna. She’s with Jesus now. The man with her is her husband, Roy. When he died, she became a widow. For the third time.

When her first husband died, Gramma was only 23 years old and had three young children. Her second husband (my biological grandfather) abandoned the family during the great depression, then died later of complications from drug use. Roy, her third husband and the love of her life, was a true hero who cared for Gramma and her seven kids until leukemia claimed his life at age 74.

God has a soft spot for widows. Over and over in both the Old and New Testaments, believers are instructed to take care of widows, and are warned not to take advantage of them. How sad, that throughout history there have been those who prey on elderly widows—gaining their confidence, exploiting their naïveté, then stealing their money. Sadder still is the reality of abuse. In 2003, most of the nearly 566,000 reported elder abuse cases involved old women.

God is committed to helping those who cannot help themselves, and the church is to be his channel of compassion as he seeks to care for widows and other helpless people. So often, we delegate care of widows to the government. But God specifically appointed the family and the church as caregivers for widows.

The government may send a monthly check, but when was the last time a civil servant showed up at a widow’s house to mow her lawn…or ask her about her grandchildren...or read to her from the Bible…or cook her a hot meal?

No, that privilege has been saved for us.

Father, you love widows. You see them through eyes of tender love and pour your compassion on them. And you have called us to experience the joy of loving them as you do. Lord, I need to ask your forgiveness for driving past my widowed neighbor’s home several times each day without ever wondering what her needs might be. I pray that you will show me how to love her and bring the good news of Christ into her life in a tangible way. Father, thank you for the way two beautiful widows—my gramma and my mom—showed your love to their families despite the hardships they faced. May my faith one day be that strong! Yes, and amen.

"Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.” — James 1:27

"A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling.” — Psalm 68:4

lenten journey, day 11 — a prayer for the san bushmen

It’s not often that a missionary’s life is saved by the very people he has come to serve before he even has the chance to introduce himself. But check this story out:

A century ago, missionary Frederick Arnot was traveling through the Kalahari Desert in Botswana when he and his African guides became severely dehydrated. They found their way to a water hole, but discovered it to be completely dry. They collapsed and surely would have died. But a group of San Bushmen, who had seen them from a distance, ran to the water hole and began to dig furiously. One of the bushmen stuck a long reed into the hole and sucked on it until water came out. For six hours the bushmen worked to revive each member of the missionary group. Then, they left as silently as they had come.

In those days, the San Bushmen were hunted like animals by other tribes in the Kalahari who wanted their land. Despite this cruelty, the San still saved the lives of strangers. Today, the San have mostly abandoned the nomadic lifestyle and live on farms or in towns. They are very fearful of the spirit world that they believe surrounds and controls their lives.

With their sad history, fearful lives, and kind-hearted ways, the San would probably respond strongly to the love and salvation of Jesus. Praise God that there is an organization called Language Recordings that has put Bible messages on tape in some of the San’s 30 click-sound dialects!

Father, thank you that you have blessed the San people with good samaritan hearts. By your grace, they are a kind people who have not succumbed to the bitterness that often accompanies hardship and fear. Lord, would you look with favor on your San children? Would you set them free from fear of the spirit world? Send missionaries to live among them, love them and teach them about Jesus, whose kindness surpasses all. I must confess that I often think only Christians can be truly “good,” but you have shown me through the story of the San that you are the author of kindness and you will give it through whomever you choose. Lord, open my eyes to those around me whose gentle spirits and kind ways might make them especially glad to hear the good news of Jesus. Yes, and amen.

”…say to those with fearful hearts,
‘Be strong, do not fear; your God will come,
he will come with vengeance;
with divine retribution
he will come to save you.’
Then will the eyes of the blind be opened
and the ears of the deaf unstopped.” —Isaiah 35:4-5

“The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’” — Matthew 25:40

selah

This is worship of the purest kind. The Slovenian subtitles are a foretaste of the day when people of every nation, tribe and tongue will fall facedown before the King of Glory! Yes, and amen.

lenten journey, day 10 — a prayer for the helpless

help·less adj. 1 : lacking protection or support: DEFENSELESS 2 : lacking strength or effectiveness: POWERLESS 3 : babies . unborn babies . orphans . the homeless . refugees . persecuted believers . widows . victims of crime . the unjustly accused . paraplegics . hiv/aids patients . me . the mentally ill . the desperately poor . children of divorce . residents of war zones . laid-off workers . the promiscuous . abandoned children . people with depression . women in islamic nations . the rejected . child laborers . you . the blind . sweatshop workers . people with autism . the illiterate . drug addicts . the broken hearted . victims of earthquakes, tsunamis, hurricanes, tornadoes, droughts, famines . bullied children . anorexics . bulimics . cutters . those who grieve . people in deep debt . lepers . cancer patients . the lonely . the deaf . the bitter . the disillusioned . everyone.

God, I confess that I am helpless. By myself, I cannot control, manipulate, influence, change, transform, or sustain any aspect of my life or world. No amount of positive thinking, no self-help book, no counseling session can change the fact that I am not my own. I am yours and it is only by your grace that I have life and breath and sustenance. Lord, we are all so very helpless. Would you look with mercy upon those whose lives are shaking apart? Would you guide them in your ways as you heal their hearts and redeem their lives from the pit? Would you walk with us as we navigate this broken and painful world? In short, would you be God? Of course you will…that’s who you are. Yes, and amen.

“Arise, Lord! Lift up your hand, O God. Do not forget the helpless.”
— Psalm 10:12

”When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.”
— Matthew 9:36

lenten journey, day 9 — a prayer for the garifuna people

If an average Christian person from America went to China, or Syria, or Ethiopia and started telling everyone they met that Jesus is a great and merciful savior, what would happen? Probably nothing, if Mr./Ms. Average Christian is testifying in English!

The truth of the Gospel can only revolutionize a life if it is understandable. The Garifuna people of Central America are a beautiful example of what can happen when the church reaches out to a people group in their own language.

The Garifuna are descendents of African slaves brought to the Caribbean islands in the 17th century. Most Garifuna today believe a hodge-podge of religious beliefs. Nearly all children are baptized into the Roman Catholic Church, but their lives are largely governed by belief in evil spirits and omens that foretell the future.

In the past two decades, though, many Garifuna have been coming to Jesus with a strong faith that delivers them from their fear of evil spirits and gives them the joy of abundant life. Why? Because missionaries who devoted decades of their lives to learning the difficult Garifuna language have brought the truth of Jesus to these people in words they can understand.

The New Testament has been translated, and the Old Testament is in the works. The Jesus film has been dubbed in the Garifuna language, too, and many have come to know the forgiveness and salvation of Christ through it.

Upon receiving a translated New Testament, one Garifuna minister said: “May we chew God’s word, swallow it and let it enter into our veins.” Oh yeah.

Father, you are the creator of language. Thank you for giving us such a powerful means to express our thoughts and feelings. And thank you that the Garifuna and many other people groups are hearing the Gospel in their own language. May they be drawn to you in ever increasing numbers. While nations and tribes are divided by language barriers, the truth of your love is a universal theme. I pray that the church would be diligent in finding ways to bring that truth to all the people of the world in whatever language speaks to their hearts. Lord, I don’t know any language but English. Would you show me how I can be a harvest worker anyway? Yes, and amen.

“Undoubtedly there are all sorts of languages in the world, yet none of them is without meaning. If then I do not grasp the meaning of what someone is saying, I am a foreigner to the speaker, and he is a foreigner to me.” — 1 Corinthians 14:10-11

“Then he said to his disciples, ‘The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field.’” — Matthew 9:37-38

lenten journey, day 8 — a prayer for immigrants

Regardless of where you stand on the politically volatile issue of immigration, we are a nation of many immigrants.

The great commission in Matthew 28—“go and make disciples of all nations”—no longer involves traveling halfway around the world, trekking through mountains or jungles, or striving to earn the trust of people who don’t understand why Americans want to live in their midst.

God is bringing the nations to us.

Yesterday at work I met a dear young man named Slav. He and his wife are from Bosnia and have been in this country a very short time. He was eager to practice his English, and I was eager to hear about his life.

We talked for quite awhile about his 16-hour-a-day job, his desire to replicate his Bosnian astrophysics(!) degree at an American university, and the fact that today is his birthday. Then the conversation turned to faith (I am so going to be fired one of these days…). He said that he respects religion but that he is a man of science. I asked him if he thought a person had to choose between science and faith. Wasn’t there room for both in his life? He replied that faith—unlike science—is about feelings and cannot be proven. I pointed out that science cannot prove his feelings of love toward his wife, yet those feelings are very real and very powerful.

I could tell by his reaction that something was stirring in him. I gave him my number and the name of the amazing heart-for-the-nations church that our family is so blessed to be part of. A seed was sown in Slav’s life yesterday. What seeds would have been sown if he had stayed in Bosnia? The answer to that question is completely unknowable, but I feel certain that God has a purpose in bringing Slav to America.

God is bringing the nations to us. Now…what will we do about it?

God-of-the-Nations, in you there are no borders, no immigration policies, no language barriers, and no temporary work visas. You love your children, regardless of where they’re from or what language they speak. Father, would you forgive me for all the times I’ve thought unkind and inhospitable thoughts toward those who have been born elsewhere? Please show me ways to reach out to these “strangers in a strange land.” Please guide me as I seek to show your love to the nations right here in my own back yard. Yes, and amen.

”He defends the cause of the fatherless and the widow, and loves the alien, giving him food and clothing. And you are to love those who are aliens, for you yourselves were aliens in Egypt.” — Deuteronomy 10:18-19

Consequently, you are no longer foreigners and aliens, but fellow citizens with God's people and members of God's household, built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the chief cornerstone. — Ephesians 2:19-20