You Yourself have recorded my wanderings. Put my tears in Your bottle. Are they not in Your records? Then my enemies will retreat on the day when I call. This I know: God is for me. Psalm 56:8-9
My words…
Praise
I wish I could know what was going through Your mind when You created eyes – the lamps of the body. Colorful orbs, sparkling with lightly-salted liquid that overflows during deeply emotional times. A beautifully imaginative idea! Tears: the unmistakable signal that the heart has been filled, touched, seared, pierced, broken. Tears are the visual symbol of pain and despair, contentment and joy. It’s nearly impossible to keep a lock on a tear duct. When it is prompted to open, it will open, and anyone in the vicinity will witness the warm flow of sentiment. Weeping is one act all humans do the same, infants and elderly alike. We all cry, but then we all stop crying. The pain eventually eases. The gush of joy ebbs. We move on. But the tears remain, not on our faces but in Your bottle – each tear a story chronicled in Your impeccable records.
You know the number of tears I have shed and the impetus behind each one, which I find even more thrilling than You knowing the number of hairs on my head. It all comes down to this: You care about me more than I can fathom. You watch me, cheer me, grieve for me, lift me. In short: You are for me. It moves me to tears.
Prayer for others
Lord, I have special people in my life whose tear bottles have been filled this week. They grieve the loss of those they love because of a virus – the same virus that prevents friends from offering a sympathetic hug. Thank You for being the One who comforts when no one else can.
More praise
The Psalmist’s figurative language is delightfully captivating: a bottle for my tears. Still…I won’t be a bit surprised to find You holding mine when we meet someday. In bliss, I’ll add to it!
Now to Him who is able to do above and beyond all that we ask or think according to the power that works in us – to Him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations. Forever and ever. Amen. Ephesians 3:20-21
My words…
Praise
You created me with the ability to imagine. What a gift! In my mind, without breaking a mental sweat, I can picture a purple polka-dotted octopus, a talking tulip, and a boat with human feet. Weird, but fun. My imagination has taken me places which do not exist. There I am able to twist nature to suit my mood or need for escape. And it is there, deep in my imagination, I find You most often. I don’t spend imaginative energy conjuring images of You in the heavens. What you look like, smell like, and sound like don’t enter my mind. My limited abilities could never do it justice. I’m more interested in imagining what you do and what You think. When I delve into a deeper realm of thought and remove myself from my world, I am the starving student, and You are the generous teacher. I lean forward at my desk so not one word from You falls to the ground. When I rise to leave, I am filled with the longing to return. But You follow me, reminding me that the classroom is everywhere.
Prayer for me
Dallas Willard writes that we have a weak imagination toward You. I agree. I pray for a Samson-strength imagination, one empowered by Your Spirit to grasp the edges of Your power – the edges would be enough for me.
Forgive me
Forgive me when I neglect to praise You for doing, over and over, that which is beyond all I can ask or imagine. Forgive me for not gifting You as I should. I know I could never offer enough…of anything. But I could do more. A lot more.
Prayer for others
Father, there are those whose imaginations have been damaged by abuse, substances, abandonment, loneliness. They cannot imagine themselves as whole, fulfilled people with hope for the future. Spark their imaginations, Lord! Fill their minds with what could be when Your Spirit is working in them.
Thank You
Thank You for imagination. The cow, grazing in the field, has none. You blessed Your children with a place to go within our minds, a place where we will learn and yearn. A place where I meet You. Thank You!
More praise
I praise You, Lord, for Your imagination. You formed in Your mind the cherubim’s wings, the strength of gravity, the roar of thunder. And it happened. You pictured the velvety petals of a rose, the soft blue of a robin’s egg, the stinger of a hornet, and it was so. You are preparing a place for those who confess You as the creator of all these things. What will that place look like? I can only imagine.
I greatly rejoice in the Lord, I exult in my God; for He has clothed me with the garments of salvation and wrapped me in a robe of righteousness… Isaiah 61:10
My words…
Praise
When You see me with Your holy eyes, do you see me wearing jeans and t-shirt? I hope not. I hope you see my spirit dressed in the clothes You gifted me, costly raiment for which You sacrificed greatly. I picture them in my mind, so delicate (yet enduring); they do not weigh me down. My garment of salvation is seamless, woven with strands of truth from Your words; ribbons of hope for that someday; strands of peace, perfect peace; braids of communion with believers; and skeins of Your unbroken promises. The weave is held together with filaments of light, not a cosmic photon, but the radiance which illuminates the heavens. It changes hues as it spirals and whirls, creating fabric like a butterfly’s wing.
My robe of righteousness is fashioned with the fibers of Your wisdom and stitched with the thread of the Fear of God. Exquisitely it flutters behind me and around me, never to unravel, always abiding. Bells, attached to the hem, echo Your love throughout my spirit, my comfort in joy and pain. The robe drapes like a vapor yet is as strong as the sword of Michael the archangel – precious gifts from Your Spirit to mine that I wear in Your presence whether standing, kneeling, or prostrate.
But this I know: What You have tailored for me is more glorious than I could ever imagine. And for that I greatly rejoice and exult in You. (And I’m looking forward to trying it on.)
Lord, I don’t think about You every hour. Not when I sleep. Not when I’m crafting work emails. Not when I’m cheering for my favorite team. But I don’t need to think about You every hour to know that I need You every hour. When I “hear” You, You are never yelling. Your voice is the voice of heavenly tenderness which brings me a peace no mortal can.
I need Thee every hour, Stay Thou near by;
Temptations lose their power when Thou art nigh.
I’m walking my path through life with You nearby. I often ask You to stay where I can see You. And You do. I have come to believe You like being with me. Wonder of all wonders. When I want to wander from the path, the intensity of my desire wanes when I see you beside me or a little ahead. You teach me how to walk with You. I’m listening.
I need Thee every hour, In joy or pain;
Come quickly and abide, or life is vain.
I need You with me whether I am celebrating or grieving (and every time in between). Without You abiding in me, my life lacks all meaning. If, by some infernal power, I feel alone, I only need to call Your name and it’s as if You had never left. Which You hadn’t, of course.
I need Thee every hour, Most Holy One;
O make me Thine indeed, Thou blessed Son!
I need You, Most Holy Son of God! I have accepted Your invitation to dwell within me, and You do! I am Yours. Nothing brings my heart more joy than the thought of You saying to one of the heavenly hosts, “Look there. She is mine.”
I need Thee, O I need Thee; Every hour I need Thee!
O bless me now, my Savior: I come to Thee! Amen.
I have lived many (many) hours. I have no idea how many more hours I have left. But this I know: You have blessed me through all I have lived, and I know You will bless me in all I have yet to live. How do I know this? Because I come to Thee!
The Lord counts the number of the stars; He gives names to all of them. Our Lord is great, vast in power; His understanding is infinite. Psalm 147:4-5
My words…
In Praise of the Unfathomable
After about an hour of listening to theoretical physicists’ explanations of the universe, I felt my brain melting inside my skull. Just when I began to wrap my mind around light speed, they throw in Planck time. Not fair. I felt a little better when they described spaghettification because I actually know what spaghetti is. Not that it helped. But here is the wonderfully, marvelously, glorious take-away from submitting to a cosmic brain-melting: I catch a glimpse of You. You hold the pulsar in one hand and the quark in another.
Your essence is beyond my comprehension. And in this I revel. If You became fathomable, You wouldn’t be God. You certainly wouldn’t be my God. I don’t need to fathom You. Even in eternity. But I would like to comprehend Planck Time if it’s not too much trouble.
Consider it a great joy, my brothers, whenever you experience various trials, knowing that the testing of our faith produces endurance. But endurance must do its complete work, so that you may be mature and complete, lacking nothing. James 1:2-4
My words…
Praise
When You healed the lame, You did it completely. They didn’t tentatively hobble around. They sprang up and jumped and danced! When You brought sight to the blind, You did it absolutely. No blurry vision. Clear, vibrant colors in motion. Perfect 20/20 eyesight. You don’t do anything halfway. You love entirely. You give constantly. You bless fully.
Prayer for me
I would love to be mature and complete, lacking nothing. Who wouldn’t? But hanging out waiting for it to happen is like expecting to lose weight while lounging around gobbling fast food and ice cream. There’s a price to be paid, and it’s called endurance. If I desire the higher calling of completeness of growth, I must embrace complete endurance. Hmmm. My first inclination is to settle for fragmentary growth, partial maturity. That’s good enough, right? “No,” I hear You say. So then, in obedience, I pray for more testing of my faith, which produces endurance. Dare I say it: No pain, no gain.
Forgive me
Forgive me when I have failed my faith tests in the past. My failings are the result of not enough time spent studying, praying, meditating, and, especially, trusting.
Prayer for others
Today, I pray for the believing elderly who know their time on this planet is short. They struggle between two worlds: anxious about letting go of their flesh and hope for what lay beyond death. I feel like that myself sometimes. I pray that we all strive for complete maturity, every day of our lives, so we won’t be lacking when we meet You in the air.
Thank You
I am grateful You expect much of me and all of Your children. When trials occur, You provide the way through. Even though it may not be easy, there is always blessing on the other side. When I get there, I’m stronger. I’m better. I’m nearer completion.
More praise
Answered prayer! Is there anything in all the world more fulfilling than witnessing Your response to my request? Nope. It is the ultimate outpouring of Your power and care. It is the magnificent faith-builder. It is the catalyst for my praise today. I petitioned then stood under a deluge of blessing. I pour it back to You in the form of praise and thankfulness.
For though we live in the body, we do not wage war in an unspiritual way, since the weapons of our warfare are not worldly, but are powerful through God for the demolition of strongholds. We demolish arguments and every high-minded thing that is raised up against the knowledge of God, taking every thought captive to obey Christ. 2 Corinthians 10:3-5
My words…
Praise
I’ve been enraptured by Isaiah’s writings lately. “You will keep the mind that is dependent on You in perfect peace.” (Is 26:3 – not that You need chapter and verse. You said it to Isaiah Yourself!) Perfect peace. Ahh. The Hebrew translation is actually shalom shalom. Peace upon peace. Complete peace. The peace that only comes from Your Spirit. But just as love is magnified after experiencing hate, so is peace fully appreciated in the wake of warfare. Your words, through the Apostle Paul, describe a violent struggle where enemies form lines and take stands. It’s an armor-wearing, shield-bearing, sword-wielding battle unseen by human eyes yet nonetheless real. I prefer to think of Your angels existing with You in a cosmos of shalom shalom, but the Enemy has not surrendered. So You battle unceasingly and unwaveringly. Your archangel brandishes the sword of Truth. The demons shudder.
Prayer for me
Decades ago, when I confessed my belief in You and counted myself among the saved of Your children, I wasn’t aware I entered into unseen warfare. If I had known, I may have turned spirit and run. I, by nature, am not aggressive, confrontational, or battle-smart. Like Bilbo Baggins, I am fond of my chair, books, and tea. But I am part of the “we” Paul wrote about. I am not called to sit back and allow the Enemy to build a trench through my spirit and hole up.
When I am under attack, You implore me to cry out! My first thought should not be, “How am I to handle this by myself?” You are always there to fight for me. All I need to do is let You do Your thing and know You will be victorious.
Forgive me
Your host, Your army, fights my battles for me. Forgive me when I grow weak in my faith and back away, or worse, back down. I do not take every thought captive to obey You. Sometimes I allow destructive thoughts victory over Your peace within me. When the lies of my enemy break out of the prison, it’s because I left the key within reach.
Thank You
Thank You for Your plan to indwell Your children. That was a very good, strategic move. Your Spirit is my Arsenal, so I am drawn to stand and fight rather than sit and wait.
More praise
Evil strongholds crumble at Your touch. Wicked rhetoric is silenced at Your word. You are all mighty, all wisdom, all loving. Together, a perfect, divine combination. Unbeatable.
The Lord of Hosts will prepare a feast for all the peoples on this mountain – a feast of aged wine, choice meat, finely aged wine. On this mountain He will destroy the burial shroud, the shroud over all the peoples, the sheet covering all the nations; He will destroy death forever. The Lord God will wipe away the tears from every face and remove His people’s disgrace from the whole earth, for the Lord has spoken. Isaiah 25:6-8
My words…
Praise
One thing I know about feasts: preparing them is the hardest part. Great amounts of time, energy, and money go into preparing feasts. In other words, feasts require sacrifice. Isaiah prophesied You would serve choice meat and fine wine to Your people. You would destroy death so Your people could enjoy a never-ending meal with You. The sacrifice has been made. The Lamb was slaughtered. The feast is ready. Hallelujah!
Prayer for me
I don’t take this passage literally. The feast I have placed my hope in has nothing to do with food. My sustenance is found in Your nourishing Spirit within me. For years, I have been struggling with You in prayer about someone I love who is suffering, and nothing has changed. If I didn’t have the sustaining hope dished out by Your Spirit, I would have stumbled into despair long ago. But despair has no place at our table. I will wait on Your grace and mercy. Give me the desire to do so every day.
Prayer for others
I pray that You will open the hearts of those who have refused Your invitation. Your banquet table is set for all humankind. And like You, I would love to feast with everyone.
Thank You
In my lifetime, I have received many invitations to dine with friends and family. As much as I am happy to accept each of them, there is no other invitation more precious to me than Yours. It’s an invitation written with Christ’s blood, sealed with the Holy Spirit. And you sent it to me. I lay my most sincere gratitude at Your feet.
More praise
The last time I prepared a feast, I realized that the time it took to devour the feast was about one tenth of the time it took to prepare it. But not so Your feast! When You defeated death, You opened the banquet room for eternity. And if You are preparing literal choice meat and fine wine, then bring it on! I have already R.S.V.P.’d.
For you are saved by grace through faith, and this is not from yourselves; it is God’s gift – not from works, so that no one can boast. Ephesians 2:8-9
My words…
Praise
I recently read a paraphrase of Scripture by a scholar who used the word “favor” in place of “grace,” which compelled me to view grace in a different light. When I am in need of something, but I’m too lazy to get off the couch, I call out to the nearest family member, “Will you do me a favor?” Because I am loved, someone usually responds. I do nothing to deserve that favor; I just sit there and wait. The one who comes to my aid does all the work. All I do is say, “Thank you.” Now, here is the amazing part: You stretched out Your arms toward the world and opened Your heart and said, “I am going to do you all a favor.” Never has such a favor been given before or since. You sent Your only Son to earth to live away from Your presence, with fleshly limitations, on a mission to die. Then You gave me a part of Yourself to carry around in my inner temple, guiding me to live and grow like Your Son. I didn’t ask for this favor. I certainly didn’t earn it. I never could.
Prayer for me
I don’t share with others what I have experienced living in Your favor. The fact that I am no evangelist is a lame excuse. Anyone can share exciting, life-changing news with others. Then, why don’t I? Is someone fretful and worried? I can show them peace. Is someone desperate or discouraged? I can show them hope. Grant me the opportunity and the words. Give me the strength and courage to be a beacon on a mountain and not a candle under a basket.
Forgive me
Forgive me when I sin in the light of Your favor. Do you look on me with loving frustration? Probably. I’m sorry for that.
Prayer for others
I pray for those who have rejected Your favor. “Thanks, but no thanks,” they say. I pray something will happen to their spirits – a pricking, a searing, a longing for something beyond their own senses.
Thank You
From what I have learned about You through the decades, one trait stands out: You are delighted by gratitude. I could never repay You for the favor you have bestowed on me. It is a chasing after the wind. But I can thank you. I thank you with my words, with my actions, with my thoughts, with my motivations, and with my intentions. I thank you over and over again and will continue until my last breath. And then I will thank you into the hereafter.
More praise
There was a point in my life when I ask You, “Will You do me a favor? Will you save me?” I didn’t know at the time but I know now: Your answer was, “My precious child, I already have.”
He leadeth me: O blessed thought! O words with heavenly comfort fraught!
What-e’er I do, wher-e’er I be, still ’tis God’s hand that leadeth me.
You lead me. When I dwell on those three words, my soul is comforted as if the words were whispered in my ear by angels. It doesn’t matter if I mess up. It doesn’t matter if I go where I shouldn’t. Your hand is open to lead me back where I belong. With You.
Sometimes ‘mid scenes of deepest gloom, sometimes where Eden’s bowers bloom,
By waters still, o’er troubled sea – Still ’tis God’s hand that leadeth me.
There are days when I am weighed down by the darkness in the world. And there are days when I am strolling with You through the gardens of Eden. It’s as if I am on a boat, and storm clouds cover the sun. Waves beat against me, and I am afraid. But the storm passes, and the sea grows calm as does my spirit. In either situation, I look to Your hand as my light.
Lord, I would clasp Thy hand in mine, Nor ever murmur nor repine;
Content, whatever lot I see, Since ’tis my God that leadeth me.
When I look to You, when I stretch out my hand and find Yours waiting, my soul swells with contentment. Why would I complain or fuss about anything? I know it is Your hand I clasp that leads me through whatever the world can throw at me.
And when my task on earth is done, When by Thy grace the vict’ry’s won,
E’en death’s cold wave I will not flee, Since God through Jordan leadeth me.
When my days of living as Your child on earth have come to an end, I will stand on the field of victory You bought and prepared for me. I won’t recoil at the thought of death because You, The Trinity, showing yourself to the world at the baptism of the Son in the Jordan, will lead me.
He leadeth me, He leadeth me, By His own hand He leadeth me;
His faithful follow’r I would be, For by His hand He leadeth me.
There is something personal and intimate between two people holding hands. But You and I are not just holding hands. You are leading me by Your hand, and I am more than content to follow Your lead. Blessed is the child being led by the hand of the eternal, loving Father!
