I wish I could start this off talking about my passionate, vibrant prayer life and say that prayer is naturally a part of my daily routine and that I speak with Jesus all day, every day. I want that. I want my life to be full of a dialogue with Him; I hope to develop the practice of “praying without ceasing” (1 Thessalonians 5:17). But if I’m being honest, prayer is something I have to remind myself to do and something I too often forget. I hope to someday reach the point where it feels unnatural to not be in constant fellowship with the Lord. I want to be so completely surrendered to Him that every decision I make, every word I speak, every commitment I say yes to, will be in agreement with Him. But, frustratingly enough, I’m so far from that. I’m very awkward when I pray. I often don’t know what to say, or I get easily distracted, or I get so wrapped up in whether I’m “praying correctly.” I know people who pray so boldly that I can feel the conviction in their words; I can feel the faith they have when they bring things to God, how they know that He is listening and is faithful to answer when His beloved children call upon His name. I often wonder why I don’t pray that way.
I am a bit more of a quiet pray-er. For any of you who know me personally, that’s probably surprising, seeing as how typically speaking, I am quite loud. But when it comes to my prayer life, I find myself doubting far more often than believing. When I bring my petitions to the Lord, I usually come to Him timid and shy, not “entering His gates with thanksgiving and His courts with praise” (Psalm 100:4). When I read that verse, I think of someone joyfully dancing into the room with such a confidence that they are welcome there. And that’s how it should be! We, as children of God, are welcome in His home. And not just welcome, but invited. But instead of believing that, I enter His presence much more as an insecure, doubting child than one full of delight and confidence in her Heavenly Father. But God, in all of His kindness, gave me a picture to compare this topic to…
I am an aunt to eight beautiful children. I became an aunt when I was just 7 years old, so I can’t really remember what it’s like to not be. I love it. It’s great because I get the perks of playing with and enjoying children, but don’t have to raise them! The best of both worlds. Sadly, I don’t live near any of them, but when I’m with them and I have the opportunity to, I really enjoy spoiling them. But as a hypothetical scenario, if one of them was sitting next to me and quietly said something about how much they liked ice cream and wished they had some, I probably wouldn’t be as inclined to go buy them an ice cream because I would rather they just plainly ask for one rather than hinting that it’s what they want (disclaimer: God is thankfully much more gracious and patient than I am, and not nearly as irritable when it comes to beating around the bush and just hinting to things). However, if one of them, knowing completely that I love them and want to bless them, came running up to me excitedly and took my hand confidently, asking me if we could go get ice cream together, I would be delighted to take them to ice cream.
Now, I am not saying that I believe that confidently asking God for something will make Him grant our requests, but I do believe that there is something valuable in coming to God boldly and in full assurance that He will answer our prayers; perhaps not the way we want, but He does always respond. And He delights in it when we come to Him with our lives surrendered and with complete peace and trust in His heart toward us. Praying with conviction and faith is powerful. It can change things; it can bring healing, part seas, move mountains. But He often reminds me that sometimes praying is less about changing my circumstances and more about changing my heart and my mind. It teaches me to hand all things to Him. It teaches me to relinquish control. It teaches me to shift my focus off myself and my problems and instead to focus on Jesus and His goodness and sovereignty. It teaches me to trust Him. And in that trust, I can come dancing joyfully into His presence, grab hold of His hand, and rest in the security and safety of His love for me.
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