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As a class assignment during my last year of undergraduate studies I had to attend a public meeting of some kind and observe the interaction of the people present. I decided to attend a local AA Meeting which met at my church in Grand Rapids, Mich. The sights, sounds, stories, and smells are still fresh in my mind today as I take a moment and remember a lesson learned.
The room, like a finished bottle from a previous life, was empty when I entered. Not a lot of time passed before I found myself sitting near the back corner; scanning the room, I was amazed at how many people there were. I was nervous. So nervous, in fact, that I was laughing with my newly formed acquaintances – laughing! What did I expect? To be honest, my biases had gotten the best of me and I expected to hear from low-life, rotten, poor, helpless men. I expected to see the women: slutty, skinny, eyes full of ethanol.

Can you imagine the surprise when my eyes were drawn to a white-collared man? I thought, “Have I seen him around, perhaps at the gas station, filling up his Audi?” The expanse of the room was quickly filled with men and women, delightful – no – thankful to be attending. There were friends, workers, businessmen, maybe accountants, or even church secretaries, teachers, mothers, a twenty year old child. I felt taken back. The thought of laughing never crossed my mind. Nervousness and excitement washed over me as I thought about the prospect of hearing their stories. What was their story?

Well, it was the biggest turn out in a while I suppose, because we separated into two groups; one with all women, the other with all men. The meeting was underway.

Jack began, “Hi, I’m Jack, I’m an alcoholic.” His support resounded, “Hey Jack.” We reviewed the Twelve Steps, read the Preamble, and prayed the Serenity Prayer. I was embarrassed that I had not even fully memorized the three-line prayer. Next order on the table: topic. What was the topic? I couldn’t wait…

Prayer. Bob spoke up, requesting we discuss prayer: how it had affected the other men, how they prayed, and how he can become better. I didn’t notice my mouth dropping, but my stomach was in a knot.

They all had fascinating stories, but one in particular has stuck with me to this day.

Gary was at least seventy. Perhaps he deserved to be older, for the lessons he endured. He drank straight liquor for several years before he was confronted with his “problem.” He denied it, of course. He became suicidal and utterly reckless: driving into trees and off bridges. Sadly, this was not Gary’s rock bottom. Twice he pulled the car into his garage, set up the hoses, rested his finger on the metal electric window button. But, he became too sick, had to back out. Then, he got his hands on a gun. He even managed to slide the smooth barrel into his mouth. And it’s here that Gary says he “fell down.” Right on the bottom of rock bottom. He never pulled the trigger, instead he found a sponsor.

Gary was told to pray to God and to pray hard. He remembered it with ease as the words fell from his mouth. “F— God,” came the response to that advice. He hated God. I could feel it, sitting in that tiled room with my eyes glued to his.

I was reminded of how often well-meaning Christians just want to cover everything up, pretend like life is all bubbles and warmth. He did need to pray, but he also needed physical help. If his name had been Bartimaeus, he would have needed his sight restored, not just a hand on his shoulder.

He never prayed, continued to drink, and ran further and further from the help he desperately wanted. For two years this continued and he soon revisited that dreary place on the bottom. However, this time was destined to be different. He prayed. And to wake up in the morning, I believe, must have been the best feeling he had experienced in years. Gary came to know God in ways that I cannot fully relate to, because of his journey. But he now lives in conversation with God. It is the only way, he says, an alcoholic will find relief, peace, and love.

Erwin McManus in his book, Soul Cravings noted that, “God is love…To search for love and run from God is maddening.”

I am forever grateful for the story of Gary and the love of God. I am reminded on a regular basis that God is love and all things are possible. Of course, I have also learned the value in remembering that every relationship is a journey. Ours with God is no different. Some people choose to take the long way home and it’s not our job to rescue them; only to continue being the body of Christ and living, as Gary came to recognize, in constant conversation with Him.

“Hey, baptize my mind /Hey, baptize my eyes /Hey, baptize my mind /For these seeds to give birth to life / First it must die” – Jon Foreman, Baptize My Mind

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the prayer of relinquishment, says foster, is a daily stop on the journey of surrendering our will to that of YHWH. he speaks of five practiced prayers – with no offered systematic way of walking them out, to his credit and of which i am very appreciative. why am i appreciative? because the space left unfilled was, in this case, filled by direction from the ruach hakodesh.

i offer up to you, the random passerby, family, and friends what has simply been offered up to me. sort of a public accountability of sorts.

an unidentified period of time whereby i will make it a habit of praying these five ‘practiced prayers’, (for habit overcomes habit, wrote thomas a kempis). i have structured them around the days of the week because that is the best harmony of order and chaos for me ;]

i won’t bombard you with a litany of disclaimers as to how this will probably go: but the long and short of it is as follows: i don’t need these prayers, but i need the conversation with GOD; some days i will totally miss out on this conversation as i choose to dialogue with other people and things in place of him; some days it will only be lip service; some days it will be revolutionary and intimate; some days GOD may not feel near, i know this; some days i will know that he is nearer than i will ever feel.

alas. the five practiced prayers.

monday/ the prayer of self-emptying. foster suggests praying through chapter two of paul’s epistle to the phillipians. i am also reminded of soren kierkegaard’s bold declaration: “GOD creates everything out of nothing–and everything which GOD is to use he first reduces to nothing.” likewise, paul speaks of his becoming less that GOD would become more and more and more. even hillsong’s lyrics echo so loud over this prayer: “i know i’m filled to be emptied again, this seed i’ve received i will sow”. it begins with baptism.

tuesday/ the prayer of surrender. to embrace and meditate on yeshua’s own words which fell from struggle, “not my will, but yours be done.” and to pray. and to think. and to weep. and to struggle. and eat these words. and to sleep with these words. until these words are transformed into something altogether lovely and filled with wonder. “may your kingdom come, may your will be done.”

wednesday/ the prayer of abandonment. my impression at the outset is this: it’s really about remembering YHWH as king of kings of kings: he is sovereign: do i trust him? do i trust him to do with me as he absolutely pleases? and ultimately, if i have been filled with him and am eagerly ushering his will into every living space, then this prayer will be one centered on celebration.

thursday/ the prayer of release. “lift up” writes foster. lift up my children, my spouse, my friends. lift up my hurts, my fears, my pain. lift up my hopes, my passions, my all. i even think the importance of posture will prove beautiful throughout these days: lifting up my eyes, my hands: for he is the lifter of our heads: blessed be his holy name.

friday/ the prayer of resurrection. “lord, bring back to life what will please you and advance your kingdom.” oh roar. when i first read that, i was stopped dead in my tracks, pun intended. but seriously, what a prayer. again, bringing everything full circle – it’s about trust. it’s about letting the truth ring out: when we fear GOD, we fear nothing else. foster is quick to draw attention back to reality, “some things will remain dead–and it is better for you that they do. others will burst forth into new life in such a way that you will hardly recognize them. in either case, rest in the confidence that GOD is better than you are at resurrection.” yesh and amen.

[selah]

now there again. for those quick to criticize me, “oh, you’re making this whole freedom of prayer thing so legalistic…”, no. freedom is not found in doing whatever one wants whenever one wants; rather, freedom is most fully experienced with and in christ: which implies an order to the chaos. i look forward to praying my own prayers, having my own verbal struggles with GOD, and following wherever he may lead – but it is good, for me, to begin here. you may not be where i am at. and that’s okay. because our GOD is bigger than where i am or where you are. indeed.

so, monday, here i come. well, really, here i come, emptying myself. or at least trying to.

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despite my unbelief, i believe that who i am is a son of the only living god & king, YHWH [blessed be his name]. a son of the resurrection. a son of the wind which bends all things.

Wilson: “See, he is getting better.”

“We lift even our disobedience into the arms of the father; he is strong enough to carry the weight.” – Richard Foster, Prayer

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this particular season of house is eclipsing all others; and the kingdom parables/analogies keep on emerging.

i have noticed a silver thread, thin and fragile, appearing over and over again these last few months: it is subtle and silent, but always there: and with each new day, it has been coming into focus as i lean in for a closer look. and there upon this silver thread are delicately embossed words.

tonight those words found clarity in the closing moments of house.

for months i have seen this thread blowing in the wind, rather, with the wind. it’s like, i could touch it, but could never embrace it fully. and now that GOD has chosen to give it up to me, i am in awe of the gracious monochromatic display of the whole thing: that is to say, it’s not flashy or fancy or complex or some massive truth.

it is clearly and wonderfully this message from my father: “speak simply to me and simply speak to me.”

[selah]

simply praying simple prayers. prayers that can only include all of who we are, not who we want to be, or even who we ought to be.

house is found in this state of simplicity: “dad, i’ve been focusing on the wrong thing.” wow! what a beautiful conversation starter. no pretense. no trying. just a simple declaration. and at that, my mouth curved with a smile as the words became clear: “speak simply to me and simply speak to me.” like house. like yeshua. like that.

and then he even takes it further, but keeping it near to the heart: “there were some good times.”

i think we, as disciples, have our good moments. but we also have those moments where we reach into history and pull out our genetic solutions: and we try to hide. we hide our fears, our hopes, our feelings and our questions. except, we’re not really hiding at all – we’re just deceiving ourselves; hiding implies that you are, in fact, hidden: and though there are times when GOD may withdraw our consciousness from his presence, he is never absent from us. we can never be hidden from him who dwells within us.

but we persist. in the hiding-but-not-really-hiding hiding. do we think that he can not handle what we have to say? do we think that he would crumple under the weight? or that he would be surprised at some great ball of confusion we can’t wrap our own minds around? or do we believe that he just wouldn’t understand?

and we preface things. and ammend our prayers. we conceal and appeal. we excuse and justify. we mumble through trying to find the “right” words to say.

“speak simply to me and simply speak to me.”

and when we reach that place, like house, of vulnerability and exposition, we reach a place of simplicity: we reach a place of freedom – oops, i dropped the f-word like it’s hot. it is. and we reach a place where healing floods our souls: we become better.

GOD. this is where i’m at right now. this is what i’m afraid of. this is what i’m feeling. this is what’s on my mind. i don’t get it, and i realize i don’t have to. it’s not about me getting anything, but about me giving everything to you.

oh to speak simply: deal with things at their face value: to become face-to-face (!*).

and it leads to even simpler, child-like prayers.

daddy. help.

[selah]

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despite my unbelief, i believe that who i am is a son of the only living god & king, YHWH [blessed be his name]. a son of the resurrection. a son of the wind which bends all things.

“Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it / Prone to leave the God I love” – R.F.

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it seems there is a very real landscape to our prayers. there exists, along the journey of every follower of jesus, many different ‘places’ we are found in prayer. places we go. places we can be still in. places we can wander from. some, physical places with tangible anchors to a very real world; others, invisible places built in our minds and hearts to open our eyes and ears. do you know of these places?

i find it fascinating that jesus goes to “a desert place”. a solitary place. and there he prayed. so was he not in a state of prayer beforehand? i don’t believe so; i believe that he understood better than anyone the delicate art of living and walking and moving and breathing in the spirit: in keeping company with, GOD.

the desert place. a place, perhaps, where the wind is not obscured by the buildings erected by the hands of men. a place where whispers are sacred and silence gives birth to an oasis of conversation. and there he prayed.

[selah]

the desert place, while it was still dark. a place in time as well as a place in space. some translations even suggest that he left in the middle of the night: which, for the ancient jew, was the beginning of their day (at sunset). it’s almost as if jesus were getting up early to join his father in the work he was doing. it’s comforting to know that the light of the world went into a dark, deserted place, and there he prayed.

it is usually in those places that i am prone to wander. i can feel it. immediately, my senses betray me and i want to rush back to the world i know, instead of to the GOD i love. i find i am easily satisfied by 60 watts of artificial ‘daylight’. and many times, i would rather hear a dull voice, over a still voice.

[selah]

but oh that i would be found praying. in all places, of course. but in the desert place. in the dark. early. there, praying. with my face near the ground and my heart broken and contrite. while the trees are listening and the waves are mere lines before me. there, praying.

“…and lead us not into the place of temptation (massah)…” that is, the place where we doubt that you are there.

for even when all is still dark. when my eyes deny your presence, deliver me, i pray!

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despite my unbelief, i believe that who i am is a son of the only living god & king, YHVH [blessed be his name]. a son of the resurrection. a son of the wind which bends all things.