But God, by his grace, placed me in a Prayer class taught by MaryKate Morse. It was by far the best gift God could have given me last semester, because in it, I recognized His Presence, again. He had always been there, but for many reasons, I was failing to see Him, or worse, choosing not to see Him because I didn't like what I saw. Here are some of my reflections from my journey (this was written for my class, so its a bit more "formal" than my usual heart dumps here on the blog). May they be an encouragement to you.
From the Desert to the Garden: A
Prayer Journey
As
I look back through my Prayer Journal for the semester, I am struck by the
jumbled, weedy mess I was. In January, I was in a very hard place, emotionally,
physical, and spiritually. Tensions in my home were high. My faith had been
teetering for months, and consequently, so had my prayer life. Though I was praying,
I would not say I was living a life of prayer. Prayer was something I struggled
to do, as “tumbleweeds” of doubt, fear, anger, and resentment blew in the wind
of the dry desert of my heart. God’s silence was deafening, and I was tired of
straining to hear his absent voice. Truly, the spiritual desert I was in
threatened to consume me.
Today,
as I sit in quiet reflection, a favorite phrase of the Psalmists, “But God…” comes
to mind repeatedly. These simple words often form the bridge between the
brokenness of the world and the faithful goodness and love of Almighty
God. They are spoken after the Psalmist
has verbally worked through the praises, challenges, joys, and persecutions of
life.
Though the days have been challenging,
here at the end of the semester, I can say, “But truly God has listened; he has given heed to the words of my prayer(s)”
(Psalm 66:19, NRSV) offered over and over the past 2 years. In
his grace, God placed me in this class, at just the right time. He knew I did
not need easy fixes, but rather options, discipline, and accountability. He
knew the soil of my heart needed weeding and tilling. He knew I needed to
repent, forgive, release, heal, and trust. He knew I needed other ways of
reaching out to him, because the old ways did not seem to be working anymore. He
knew that in order to move me from a place of prayer being something I did, to
who I am, I would need a plethora of ways to engage with him throughout the
minutes of the day, so as to fully grasp the depth and meaning of Paul’s words,
“Rejoice
always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the
will of God in Christ Jesus for you” (1 Thes 5:16-18, NRSV).
Throughout
this semester, God has been planting seeds in my heart, seeds that he has
profoundly nurtured with light and living water to produce new life. Some
prayer seeds settled deeper and have grown more than others. Those that have
had the most growth include Breath Prayer, Creative Prayer, and Prayer of Inner
Healing.
Of
all the prayers experienced this semester, the seed of Breath Prayer has grown
most quickly. I have found that these simple, yet profound little prayers can
be easily woven into the days, as naturally as the act of breathing itself. God
is answering my often tear filled breath prayers in beautiful ways. My first breath prayer, “Sweet Jesus, free
me,” has been repeated often over the days, drawing me closer to my Lord.
Often, he whispers the words, “I already have,” in response to my cry, bringing
comfort and thanksgiving to my heart, and giving me eyes to see evidence of
that freedom as bonds of anger, frustration, and hurt fall by the wayside. Another
breath prayer, “God, heal my loved one,” has been received and answered by the
Lord. Some of those prayed for have experienced miraculous and complete
healing, while others are experiencing a slower healing. A third breath prayer
I have used is one Jesus modeled, “Father, may your will be done.” Remembering
to breath this, especially in times of suffering, gives me hope that like
Jesus, I will “experience the victory of the open tomb, the end journey of
suffering.”[1]
Another
transformative prayer seed has been the Creative Prayer. This prayer has
brought color and shape, form and lines, to my relationship with the Lord. What
once was a black and white interaction is now filled with splashes of
pinks, purples, reds, blues, and greens; colors that capture hopes and dreams,
hurts and disappointments, joy and peace, in ways words never could. For years
I have shelved my passion to create through drawing and painting. Taking time
for such things seemed frivolous when there were so many other matters to attend
to. Having been given permission to do these while praying has enriched my
quiet time with Jesus in remarkable ways. Sitting down with my Bible and slowly
reading a passage, allowing the words to flood my mind and create visual
substance from the letters, is like a wave of peace washing over me. Next to a
good long run, this is my favorite way to simply be with the Lord.
Lastly,
I would be remiss if I did not share how the tiny seed of Inner Healing Prayer
worked its way into my heart’s soil. Here, God took pain and shame, and began
turning it into something beautiful and free. During our class experience, he
spoke the nourishing truth of John 8:10-11 and Romans 8:1 into dark recesses of
my being, allowing the little seed to cast off it’s hard outer covering and
begin growing sprouts of hope and life. I definitely look forward to exploring
this form of prayer more extensively in a future semester. Truly, Inner Healing
Prayer is an integral tool in the hand of the Lord to bring freedom to his
people.
Today,
in place of a dry desert lays a little oasis, which in time will undoubtedly
turn into a lush garden, filled with color, life, and hope. It is a place of
peace and restoration, where the Lord comes and sits with me, and we marvel at
the beauty of his grace. It is a place where his presence resides, and I abide.
I now know that he has always been there. Even in the dry desert filled with
tumbleweeds, he was there, waiting for me to simply see him. This semester has
allowed me the opportunity to learn to recognize his presence regardless of the
environment that surrounds. I have, if even in part, begun to understand how to
simply be with my Beloved and rest in his loving arms. Thus, like the Psalmists,
I am able to move from the brokenness of the world into the God’s faithful
goodness and love, with a softly spoken, “But God…”
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