Your words…

Finally brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable – if there is any moral excellence and if there is any praise – dwell on these things.  Philippians 4:8

My words…

Praise

You created me with such a complex thought system. My motives, intentions, ambitions, and actions all spring from my thoughts – what I think about. What I dwell on. I’m not like the dog on the leash who wraps himself around a lamp post and can’t figure out how to get free. You have given me the capabilities to figure things out (some days more than others). You made me responsible for my thoughts. When I think about what I dwell on (not to get too “meta”), I realize how weighty a responsibility it is. Which leads me to believe that You have faith that I can dwell well. You gave me everything I need to do so. You didn’t leave me wrapped around the lamp post, trying to figure out what’s going on. You left me a very clear example on which to pattern my thoughts: You, Jesus. Your thoughts weren’t recorded in scripture, but they didn’t need to be. All Your true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, and commendable thoughts were perfected into Your words and Your actions because You knew how to dwell well.

Prayer for me

You created me with this responsibility to dwell because I am called to make a choice. Each of my thoughts is a deliberate choice. However (I wish there weren’t a however), during the times of mental over-stimulation or when I have grown spiritually flabby, I neglect to dwell on the virtuous, and I get wrapped up in social rhetoric, moral debates, and Satan’s victories. In other words, I make bad choices. Help me, Lord, to think intentionally.

Forgive me

Forgive me when I neglect to use my time wisely, and I end up with all my waking hours used in mindlessness and idleness. Being a faithful dwell-er takes time. It requires sacrifice and discipline. Forgive my selfishness. I’m only hurting myself.

Thank You

I am so thankful that I was created with the capacity to ponder, meditate, and imagine. I couldn’t know You without it.

More praise

Dwelling on the virtuous is not sticking my head in the sand and refusing to see the world for what it is. You have given me the ability to see the false and the true, the dishonorable and the honorable, the unjust and the just, the polluted and the pure, the ugly and the lovely, and the unworthy and commendable. It is then I recognize which is more powerful. One builds. The other tears down. When I dwell on You, I enter a temple filled with hope, peace, and love. And it’s the best place to dwell.

Your words…

Honor the Lord with your possessions and with the first produce of your entire harvest; then your barns will be completely filled, and your vats will overflow with new wine. Proverbs 3:9-10

My words…

Praise

There is something precious about the first of something. The first bloom of spring, the first cry of a newborn. I’m not a farmer, but I know I would be amazed by the first tomato, the first melon, or the first bean that appeared from the dirt. You know all about firsts. Everything You created was a first, and perfect the first time. No do-overs. And all of Your firsts were made for me to enjoy and to use as another way to praise You. No two people are exactly alike. Each one is a first. No two stars, no two grains of sand, no two snowflakes (although I have never really checked). – all firsts. The first of something has more value. In ancient times, the first of something was the best of something. What better way to honor You than to give You my first and my best? But I’m not perfect, so neither is my best. It’s like a preschooler proudly giving her daddy a painted picture where all of the colors ran together to produce a brown blob. But, to him, it’s refrigerator worthy. My first and best isn’t good enough for You, but You’re so glad to get it that You hang it in heaven and show it to the angels.

Prayer for me

Lord, I need a lesson about how I can honor You more often and more perfectly. Remind me to glorify You with my first day of each week, with my first thought of each day, with my first bite of each meal, and every other first in my life. You, Spirit, are a wonderful teacher, but I can be an unmotivated, stubborn, distracted student.

Forgive me

Forgive me when I give you second best (or third or fourth). How many times have I said, “I’ll get to God later. I have to finish something else first” ? You know the number. (I don’t want to know.) You would never treat me like that.

Thank You

Thank You for Your longsuffering. I always thought, by this age, I would be farther along in my efforts at naturally offering You the firsts of my life. But I lag. Thank You for loving me as You wait on me to grow.

More Praise

As it happens, I am writing this part of the prayer on the first day of the week, in the first moments of my waking hours. I praise You along with the birds who are singing their first song of adoration to You, along with the brilliant rays of morning sun, paying homage to the Christ, the Light of the World. Dewdrops are glistening in a show of reverence before they disappear. Parents are lifting their babies from their cribs and thanking You for another day together. A troubled soul has awakened and decided that today will be the first day back on the path where You wait with open arms.

I offer my first and best to the One who is First and Best.

Your words…

Now Samuel had not yet experienced the Lord because the work of the Lord had not yet been revealed to him. Once again, for the third time, the Lord called to Samuel. He got up, went to Eli, and said, “Here I am; you called me.” Eli understood that the Lord was calling the boy. He told Samuel, “Go lie down. If He calls you, say, ‘Speak, Lord, for Your servant is listening.'” So Samuel went and lay down in his place. The Lord came, stood there, and called as before, “Samuel, Samuel!” Samuel responded, “Speak, for Your servant is listening.”  1 Samuel 3:7-10

My words…

Praise

Nothing amazes me more than the concept of You speaking to…well, anyone. And because You are God, You speak through earthquakes, burning bushes, dreams and visions, rainbows, a still small voice, and yes, through scripture. But it’s Your “voice from heaven” that amazes me the most. Whatever language You use, everyone understands it. No one ignores it. I know people who have heard Your voice, and they were never the same. Whenever You speak, the message is simple. The message is essential. The message is for the good of the hearer. Some within Your creation erect a boundary around how You communicate. You can speak in this way, but not in that. (An image forms in my mind of a turkey lecturing Einstein. It would be comical except no one is laughing.) The One who created the mind is welcome to reveal. The One who created the tongue is entreated to speak. Whenever and however You choose.

Prayer for me

In the past, I envied those who testified to hearing Your voice from heaven. I wanted to hear You, too. I’ve changed my mind. I no longer believe I could bear up under it. My spirit would melt. So I asked Your Spirit to speak to me through my spirit. I ask You questions, and I receive answers. The answers take root in my mind, and I know they are from You. I praise. I thank. I move on to the next question. It’s a spiritually enriching process for me except when I decide to ignore Your answer. Which leads to…

Forgive me

…me asking for Your forgiveness. Who am I to ignore Your voice? To decide that I have a better plan? To refuse Your answer because it may cost me more than I’m willing to give? Who am I? I’m an ungrateful child; that’s who I am.

Thank You

Thank You for not withholding Your counsel and instruction even when I recklessly discount it or reject it outright. Thank you for repeating and repeating. Thank You for not treating me as my actions and thoughts deserve.

More praise

All praise and glory to You, the God who speaks! You are not a totem. You are not an idol. You have a voice. Speak, for Your servant is listening!

Your words…

David took his staff in his hand and chose five smooth stones from the wadi and put them in the pouch, in his shepherd’s bag. Then, with his sling in his hand, he approached Goliath. He said to David, “Come here, and I’ll give your flesh to the birds of the sky and the wild beasts!” David said, “You come against me with a dagger, spear, and sword, but I come against you in the name of Yahweh of Hosts, the God of Israel’s armies – you have defied Him. Today, the Lord will hand you over to me. Today, I will strike you down and cut your head off. When the Philistine started forward to attack him, David ran quickly to the battle line to meet him. David took out a stone, slung it, and hit the Philistine on his forehead, and Goliath fell on his face to the ground. David ran and stood over him. He grabbed Goliath’s sword and used it to kill him. Then he cut off his head.  Selected verses from 1 Samuel 17.

My words…

Prayer for me 

Lord, I stand today in the shadow of a giant. It’s a thick, dark shadow that has blocked out the sunlight. How am I going to overcome it? As I wring my hands, the image of a teen aged Israelite boy appears in my mind. He, too, stands in the shadow of a giant – a thick, strong giant, blocking out the sunlight. But the kid doesn’t wring his hands. He doesn’t consider the odds. He listens to Goliath’s taunts and insults – insults directed toward You – and grows incensed. My Goliath gibes me as well. I hear his voice in my head: You’ll never be able to conquer me. You’re not smart enough. Your faith isn’t strong enough. Give up, and call me the winner.

David got mad. I lower my face in my hands.

David’s weapons were rather flimsy, which is the whole point, right? It’s the main reason this story appears in scripture. A boy’s sling against a giant’s sword. David couldn’t care less who should win. He knew who would win. A teenager with the faith to drive out all doubt. He had a plan: slay the giant, cut off his head, watch the enemy flee. He knew if he did his part, You would do Your part. He knew it.

David formed a plan. I sit and worry.

Satan was there, sitting along the edge of the cliff, dangling his feet over the edge, eating popcorn. (Okay, maybe not exactly.) Goliath was the Devil’s mouthpiece. Israel quaked in his presence. How Satan must have gloated. David cut off the head of his enemy and lifted it in the air to the shouts of Your army. When it was all over, and You were glorified across the battlefield, Satan skulked away. I can just hear him thinking, “Blast! I bet this little incident is going to be told and re-told again and again.” Good bet.

David glorified You. I eat another piece of chocolate.

Praise to the spirit shaker

Enough, I say! I don’t compare myself with David. I could never. But the God who empowered David to slay Goliath is the very same God who empowers me today. YOU! Who am I to think You cannot work through me to slay my giant. Shame on me. Your Spirit has taken hold of mine and shaken it. Now I’m mad. Now I have a plan. And when this plan is accomplished through You, I will slice off the head of my giant, hold it in the air, and give You all the glory and honor. And then Satan will skulk away and mutter, “Blast. I bet this little incident is going to be told and re-told again and again.” Good bet.

Prayer for others

As You well know, I’m not the only one holding a sling in the shadow of a giant holding a sword. Shake their spirits, Lord. What are money concerns compared to Your wealth? What are job stresses compared to Your peace. What are health conditions compared to Your grace and healing? Help them to say, “Enough!” Take up the armor and stand! Send Satan skulking.

We come against the giant in the name of Yahweh of Hosts!

Your words…

The righteous thrive like a palm tree and grow like a cedar tree in Lebanon. Planted in the house of the Lord, they thrive in the courts of our God. They will bear fruit in old age, healthy and green, to declare: “The Lord is just; He is my rock, and there is no unrighteousness in Him.”  Psalm 92:12-15

And I pray this: that your love will keep on growing in knowledge and every kind of discernment, so that you can approve the things that are superior and can be pure and blameless in the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ to the glory and praise of God.  Philippians 1:9-11

My words…

Praise

I wonder why You liken Your righteousness to fruit. Then I think: Is there anything so lovely as a healthy tree loaded with ripe, colorful apples? At harvest, the branches are weighed down. Nothing can keep the apples from bursting onto the scene. And I am drawn to them. I can’t walk through an orchard without reaching up and plucking one from a branch. That’s what it’s there for. It’s not supposed to hang until it rots and falls to the ground. It’s there for everyone to enjoy. My hunger is satisfied, and I absorb the nutrients and grow. Oh, I get it. Sounds a lot like Your righteousness.

Prayer for me

I am called by You to be a fruit-bearer, but I’m convinced that my branches are not weighed down, loaded with the fruit of righteousness. Oh, there are a few here and there within the leaves, but not nearly enough in light of the source of growing power living within me. Help me to keep growing, longing to be filled with Your righteousness so my fruit will burst forth. And not only in what I do with my hands, but every thought, every intent, every decision.

Forgive me

Forgive me for being tempted to believe that bearing fruit for You and through You is a wearying prospect, and one that lessens with age. The Psalmist writes that those who thrive in Your courts will bear fruit into old age – healthy and green. My body may be drying out, but my fruit should be fresh and plentiful.

Prayer for others

Lord, I pray for a particular group of people today. Some of my brothers and sisters in the Spirit suffer from depression, melancholy. They are not bearing fruit because they cannot see past their sadness and hopelessness. I cry out to You to comfort them today. Lift their spirits out of the darkness and into the warmth of Your light. Wrap them in Your love and ease their distress. Smooth the wrinkles of their brow and dry their tears. Drench them with hope. I long to see them laughing again.

More praise

I praise You and thank You for fruit. Not only the fruit of Your righteousness, but the fruit with the juice that drips down my chin.

Your words…

These [Abraham, Sarah, Isaac, Jacob] all died in faith without having received the promises, but they saw them from a distance, greeted them, and confessed that they were foreigners and temporary residents on earth. Now those who say such things make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they were thinking about where they came from, they would have had an opportunity to return. But they now desire a better place – a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for He has prepared a city for them.  Hebrews 11:13-16

My words…

Praise

Abraham and his family: sojourners, foreigners, wanderers. They never built a house; they lived out of a suitcase. They bought fields and caves from strangers to bury their loved ones. It wasn’t important that they have a permanent earthly address when they knew they would enjoy a heavenly one built by You. They saw it in the distance through eyes of faith, and they waved to it! You are so proud of them. You say to the heavenly hosts, “I am their God!” You have built for them a beautiful city where they may dwell forever. No more luggage. The homeless have found a homeland.

Forgive me

I have an earthly homeland, one of the best on the planet. I have a permanent dwelling with a kitchen, and a bed, and a rather nice pillow. It is cool in the summer and warm in the winter. Luggage is for vacations. My homeland will one day cease to exist as will my dwelling and my pillow. I cling to what I own. Forgive me for thinking any of it is really mine. Forgive me for grasping it all too tightly. As C. S. Lewis wrote, “Our Father refreshes us on the journey with some pleasant inns, but will not encourage us to mistake them for home.”

Prayer for others

Father, I pray for every single person who thinks that this dirt, this air, this body is all there is. How sadly one-dimensional. Open their eyes of faith (everyone has them) to see the infinite dimensions of You and to greet Your far-off homeland with a wave.

Thank You

Only a God of love would take it upon Himself to build a city, a place for all to call home. Only a Father-God would want all of His children around Him in one place. Thank You for being that God – my God.

More praise

Because of You, I can let my spirit soar with thoughts and visions about the city You are preparing. No more wandering. Just rest. And chats with Abraham.

Your words…

He 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…

Praise to the One who shatters my everyday…

When I do not remain alert and my spiritual eyes glaze over, I become enclosed by the “everyday.” You see me in my box with my toothbrush, cell phone, parking tag, office key, email, and task list. I amble along a rutted path with time spent at the gas pump, drive-through line, department meeting, dry cleaner, grocery store, and church building. I hear the same people use the same phrases which highlight the sameness of my everyday life: “Now here’s your local on the 8s.” “Did you have a nice weekend?” “Your appointment will have to be rescheduled.” “Would you bring a dessert on Sunday?” “You’ll need to upgrade your plan.” “Do you want fries with that?” After a while, my world begins to feel very, very, very…small. The box closes in.

You, Lord, are the box-shatterer – the response to the everyday. I see a Hubble image of a young star busting out of a cloud of gas at 124,000 miles per hour, and You awaken my spirit. I see the clear answer to a well-worn prayer, and my soul sings. I hear the squeaky, high-pitched praise song of a little girl, and my heart swells. And then You teach me, yet again, if I would just look at my everyday through the expensive lenses You lovingly gave me, there would be no everyday – no box. Each day would be a gift with its own opportunity to witness You in my world. And if I begin to feel my spirit lagging, I will remember the Psalmist’s lyrics and ponder You numbering the stars and giving them each a name. And there’s nothing everyday about that.

Your words…

As God is faithful, our message to you is not “Yes and No.” For the Son of God, Jesus Christ, who was preached among you by us did not become “Yes and No”; on the contrary, a final “Yes” has come in Him. For every one of God’s promises is “Yes” in Him. Therefore, the “Amen” is also spoken through Him by us for God’s glory.   2 Corinthians 1:18-20

My words…

Praise

From long ago, You proclaimed through Your prophets that a Savior of the world would descend and offer a way to true freedom. Your Son said, “Yes.” Would He live in poverty, preach using parables, work miracles, as was foretold? Yes, yes, and yes. Would He die in silence and suffering? Yes. Jesus, the perfect Son who never said no to His Father. Your Son walked the dusty roads of Palestine, proclaiming a message forged before that dust was created. He embodied the message, so when He taught us to turn the other cheek, love our neighbor, and humble ourselves, He had already done it. He said yes, not a wishy-washy yes but one rooted in bedrock. He could not be moved. It was the only way the plan would work, for who would ever pick up a cross and follow a god who had tossed his aside?

Prayer for me

And what should be my response to all that Jesus taught? My response should  be, “Amen!” And what is an amen? It’s an action. It’s a promise. It’s a confession. It’s repentance. And most importantly, it’s not wishy-washy. Lord, I need help here.

Forgive me

Forgive me when my response to Your life, Your sacrifice, Your love pales to the point of nothingness in comparison. I know I could never offer an amen worthy of Your yes. Forgive me when I don’t even try.

Thank You

Thank You, Jesus, for saying yes to the Father and rescuing every soul on earth. One little word filled with indescribable power.

More praise

God, each of Your promises is a yes in Christ. Your promises are the path on which I walk, and Jesus is the gate. And to that, I humbly and adoringly reply, “Amen.”

Your words…

Uzziah was sixteen years old when he became king and reigned 52 years in Jerusalem. He did what was right in the Lord’s sight. During the time that he sought the Lord, God gave him success. But when he became strong, he grew arrogant and it led to his own destruction. He acted unfaithfully against the Lord his God by going into the Lord’s sanctuary to burn incense on the incense altar. Azariah the priest said, “Leave the sanctuary, for you have acted unfaithfully! You will not receive honor from the Lord.” But when Uzziah became enraged with the priest, a skin disease broke out on his forehead, and he was diseased until the time of his death. He was buried with his fathers in the burial ground of the king’s cemetery, for they said, “He has a skin disease.”  Selections from 2 Chronicles 26

My words…

Praise

If words had pores, these would be oozing with pride. You must have been so pleased with Uzziah at the beginning of his reign and so disappointed by the end – a scenario You’ve seen played out too many times, another U-turn. The bend began when he became strong. Then came the arrogance fed by pride. Pride is a powerful feeder. But the bend was complete when Uzziah settled in his mind that he could go anywhere and do anything that pleased him. He marched into the Holy Place and lit incense, something only a specially appointed man could do. Uzziah was not that specially appointed man, and when he was reminded, he didn’t like it – not one bit. And that’s when You acted. I find it interesting that You did not afflict Uzziah when he unlawfully lit the incense but when he got mad when Azariah reprimanded him for doing it. Pride reared its ugly head. The U-turn was complete. A heartbreaking moment in heaven. The U-turns continue, and so does the heartache.

Prayer for others

Lord, I believe You battle. Your archangels battle. You battle at the top of the bend to keep Your children from turning away and tumbling headlong to their destruction. I pray You will open the spiritual eyes of those who are teetering, who are about to make a decision to give in to their pride and turn their backs on You. Allow them to see the battle, and to see the love of the One who battles for them.

More praise

I don’t like to think of You grieving for Your lost children. You don’t deserve that. You deserve to be delighted by Your children. The U-turn path is heavily traveled by those who once delighted You. They loved You, and You blessed them. But pride slithered onto the scene. I lost a child before I had the chance to know him. My grief was great. If I lost a child I have loved for years, how much greater would be my grief? Is it the same for You?

Your words…

In my Father’s house are many dwelling places; if not, I would have told you. I am going away to prepare a place for you. If I go away and prepare a place for you, I will come back and receive you to Myself, so that where I am you may be also.  John 14:2-3

My words…

Praise

One of the magnificent character traits of being the perfect Son of God, is that You always have the perfect response to any situation. Your comebacks to Satan’s temptations forced him to slink back to wherever it is he hangs out. When the teachers of the Jewish law verbally attacked You, a few well-chosen, perfect rebukes silenced them. You knew the multitudes would struggle to understand Your radical, new Way, so You offered a few well-spoken parables. Your eleven faithful followers clung to You during the evening before Your death. Their hearts were beyond troubled. And yet again, You spoke the perfect message of comfort – a message that would sing in their ears until the day they died: “I am going away, but I’m coming back. And then, we will be together.” The power of that message emboldened them to speak about You to others, even in the face of danger and death. Why? Because those words form THE most comforting message that has or will be spoken by anyone. Period. You are the source of the power behind the message. I could utter that message and it means very little. But when You speak that promise, it grows wings and soars, and sweeps, and swirls like an angel draping a canopy of sparkling light over a dark world.

The delightful truth that my omnipresent God actually has an abode is only part of the power of this message of comfort. Not only do You abide somewhere, this dwelling place is…well, it’s big. You live there, so You know. If that wasn’t pleasing enough, You include the amazing fact that You are the One preparing a place in this abode for Your eleven…and for me! And if there’s one fact about You that I know absolutely, it’s that You know how to create stunning beauty. Then comes the best part: We will be together in this stunningly beautiful place. My limited imagination cannot picture it (even though I give it a try quite often). It’s enough that I know it is a surety. When I am troubled (and even when I’m not), I lift my spiritual eyes and bask in the glow of the canopy of sparkling light.