Category Archives: Prayer
Remember this, keep it in mind, take it to heart, you rebels. Remember the former things, those of long ago; I am God, and there is no other; I am God, and there is none like me. I make known the end from the beginning, from ancient times, what is still to come. I say: “My purpose will stand, and I will do all that I please.” Isa. 46:8-10
Dear heavenly Father, this Scripture is so relevant to me. I not only rebel against your commandments, I also rebel against your gospel. That’s why I need a Savior as big as Jesus. My great hope is in knowing that you will complete the good work of salvation you began in me, and in your entire cosmos. You do all that you please, and it pleases you to justify and transform rebels like me. Hallelujah many times over!
I also find great hope today in knowing that your purposes for everything else will stand. You are God and you do as you please. No one can ultimately resist your will, and we’re foolish to try. Thankfully, you’re not manageable, predictable, nor programmable. I’ve lived long enough to bless you for answering some of my prayers with a big “No”. You’re not just sovereign; you’re our sovereign Father.
As I stare some important decisions in the face, I’m so thankful that I can trust you fully. I don’t have to panic. I don’t have to worry. …
For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom all fatherhood derives its meaning, that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith—that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God. Eph. 3:14-19
Dear heavenly Father, this portion of your Word is like an ocean of grace and hope. It intensifies my longing to be re-parented by you in two ways. I want to know you better and better as Abba, Father—the most caring, engaged, and loving parent ever. Continue to free me from the illusion that my earthly parents could have ever been enough.
I can still play the victim card and think, “If only I’d been given a different dad. If only my mom had been more present in my life.” For the wounds and holes in my childhood, bring the gospel to bear with healing and liberating power. Free me from believing I need any other parent but you, in order to become a whole and healthy person.
Father, I also ask you to re-parent me as a parent. You’ve already forgiven me for …
Who are you, O man, to talk back to God? “Shall what is formed say to him who formed it, ‘Why did you make me like this?’ “Does not the potter have the right to make out of the same lump of clay some pottery for noble purposes and some for common use? Romans 9:20-21
Dear heavenly Father, this morning I’ve been reflecting on the mystery and mercy of your sovereignty, especially as I consider everything you did to redeem idolaters and rebels like me.
Jesus’ death on the cross wasn’t an accident, afterthought, plan B, or the redeeming of a good story gone kaput. It was your plan, made before the foundation of the world and executed in the fullness of time. The comfort and peace I enjoy from this supreme demonstration of your sovereignty is incomparable and immeasurable.
But Father, as I much as I celebrate and find comfort in the demonstration of your sovereignty in saving sinners, why do I struggle with it in any other part of my life? I relate to Paul’s metaphor in this text. There are times I do want to reverse roles with you, and make me the potter and treat you like pliable clay. With regard to certain stories and broken people, I do fancy myself to be the 4th member of the Trinity, rather than abandoning myself to you—my sovereign Father.
Indeed, I don’t have any problem with you setting up and sitting …
Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen. Eph. 3:20-21
Dear heavenly Father, I love Paul’s beautiful and bold affirmation of your omnipotence. Indeed, you can do exceedingly beyond and immeasurable more than all we can ask or imagine. But today, I have no need to test either the limits of my imagination, nor the measure of your ability. There are plenty of things I CAN imagine that I’m bringing to the throne of grace. Bring glory to yourself as you work in these stories and hearts.
Father, continue to reveal more and more of Jesus to each member of my family, and extended family. I can imagine that, and greatly long for it. May none of us be satisfied with our current experience of the gospel; and for who have yet to experience the only Love that is better than life, grant the gift of new life in Christ. Open the eyes of our hearts to see just how worthy Jesus is of our affection, adoration and allegiance.
Father, I can imagine a mighty movement of your Spirit among many broken relationships in my larger community. Having lived in the Nashville area for 35 years now, I’ve seen too many church split, marriages disintegrate, and good friends get disconnected—even becoming …
I thank my God every time I remember you. In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joybecause of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now, being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. (Phil. 1:3-6)
Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful. (Luke 6:36) Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity. (Col. 3:12-14)
Dear heavenly Father, the promise of your inviolate commitment to complete the work of the gospel in my life brings me tremendous encouragement. For I can no more make myself like Jesus than I could’ve ever placed myself in Jesus. From beginning to end, salvation is of the Lord—it’s all of grace.
But today, I want (need) to connect with this magnificent hope for others. Grant me grace to see other brothers and sisters in Christ, not simply as they are today, but as they will be, when Jesus returns to finish making all things new. For lately, it’s been easier for me to get irritated than to be patient, to judge than to be merciful, to curse (while seething on the inside) than to bless …
We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers and sisters, about the troubles we experienced in the province of Asia. We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired of life itself. Indeed, we felt we had received the sentence of death. But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead. He has delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us again. On him we have set our hope…” 2 Cor. 1:8-10
Dear heavenly Father, this portion of Scripture is like a mercy-magnet to my soul—one to which I often turn when there are more messes left at the end of my day than strength; when stories of heartache seem to outnumber stories of redemption; when I have little left in my grace-tank, yet there’s many more miles before I reach home.
Thank you, thank you, thank you for the haven of hope we find in the riches of your Word. If Paul occasionally felt overwhelmed by the frayed ends, unresolved conflicts, and “too-much-ness” of life, then I’ll not let myself fall into guilt or self-contempt, and I’ll cancel my plans for a big pity-party for one.
Father, I realize that days and stretches of feeling overwhelmed are actually good for me, though they feel pretty lousy. I honestly want to learn more and more about trusting in you—the God who raises the dead. Though my default mode is self-sufficiency and the illusion …
He placed his right hand on me and said: “Do not be afraid. I am the First and the Last. I am the Living One; I was dead, and now look, I am alive for ever and ever! And I hold the keys of death and Hades.” Rev. 1:17-18
Dear Lord Jesus, it’s quite timely and so encouraging to know the most repeated command in the Bible is “Do not be afraid.” The angels spoke these words to startled shepherds at your birth, and you repeated the command to a devastated Mary after your resurrection. Now you speak these liberating words to my heart: “Do not be afraid!”
Because you’re the First and the Last, I don’t have to be afraid of anything in between. You are very God, and I am very not. You never say “Oops” about anything in world history, or in my life. You never “attempt” anything—as though you could fail. You never pace heaven, scratch your head in confusion, or resort to plan B. You are perfectly and perpetually executing your sovereign will—from naming the stars, to numbering my hairs and days. Hallelujah, many times over.
Because you are the Living One—who was dead and is now alive forever, I don’t have to be afraid of Judgment Day, or this day. You are constantly singing the most liberating of lyrics over us: “I am your righteousness and peace, Good Shepherd and impassioned Bridegroom. There’s no condemnation hanging over you, …
I, Nebuchadnezzar, lifted my eyes to heaven, and my reason returned to me, and I blessed the Most High, and praised and honored him who lives forever, for his dominion is an everlasting dominion, and his kingdom endures from generation to generation; all the inhabitants of the earth are accounted as nothing, and he does according to his will among the host of heaven and among the inhabitants of the earth; and none can stay his hand or say to him, “What have you done?” . . . Now I, Nebuchadnezzar, praise and extol and honor the King of heaven, for all his works are right and his ways are just; and those who walk in pride he is able to humble. Dan. 4:34-37
Dear Lord Jesus, I so relate to Nebuchadnezzar’s story. Yet again, I find myself needing a fresh vision of your unassailable sovereignty and your inexhaustible goodness. There are two places of insanity, or “crazy,” I tend to fall into. Sometimes, like King Nebuchadnezzar, I arrogantly think I’m in control, and I get preoccupied with my little fiefdom of “self”. Other times I act like the consummate orphan—as though I don’t have a Father in heaven and a secure place in his family. Both of these extremes contradict the gospel I trust and the kingdom I love.
But Lord Jesus, you’re the only King that’s really in control, and only your kingdom will endure from generation to generation. You’re a hands on, fully engaged …
But to Jonah this seemed very wrong, and he became angry. He prayed to the Lord, “Isn’t this what I said, Lord, when I was still at home? That is what I tried to forestall by fleeing to Tarshish. I knew that you are a gracious and compassionate God, slow to anger and abounding in love, a God who relents from sending calamity.Now, Lord, take away my life, for it is better for me to die than to live.” Jonah 4:1-3
Dear heavenly Father, I’m praying today for friends who, like Jonah, “theologically,” know you to be a “gracious and compassionate God, slow to anger and abounding in love,” but who, emotionally, feel very disconnected from this good news right now. I know what that feels like, for I’ve been there as well.
For some, their marriage is their “Nineveh”—a place of threat and pain, emptiness and hopelessness—one that makes the expensive cost of a ticket to Tarshish seem worth it. For others it’s the combination of loses and reversals, dashed hopes and unfilled dreams. For others, “Nineveh” is the “too-much” thought of having to stay in the same body, story and city—all which conspire to echo the haunting question, “Where is your God?”
Lord, their resources are low and their resolve is nearly “shot”, so my cry for my friends is simple, have mercy on these I love. You’ve promised never to leave us or forsake us, even when we buy our tickets …