Day 13: Pinholes of Prayer

Some days my own small-mindedness and selfishness forms a crust over my spirit. I’m stewing on the inside, hardening on the outside. I lose the ability to be flexible, to be gracious, and the smallest prick can set off an explosion. 

But when I puncture my day with prayer, here a little, there a little, I become permeable. I am soft to the Spirit, and slower to anger. God breathes through these pinholes of prayer and my soul expands in His presence. The light dances in and I can see beyond myself. 

~lg

Day 6: Morning Clarity

This morning, instead of going online first thing, I went to the Psalms. I was still groggy, still a little unfocused. But this is what happened.

When my six year old daughter padded into our room a few minutes later, my mind wasn't filled with Facebook images and updates, news and forecasts, things to catch up on, or the opinions and concerns of other people.

The room was quiet, and my head was quiet.

So when I looked up from the printed poetry, I saw her face in all of its subtle, sleepy beauty. I set the book aside and pulled her in next to me and the dozy baby. I didn't feel interrupted. My connection with God moved naturally into a connection with my daughter. No screen between us, no web obscuring things. The room echoed with sacred words, and I found my own words calmer, and deeper.

God's presence made me more present.

It's bedtime right now, and I honestly can't remember what I read this morning. But I remember my daughter's face and her Snoopy pyjamas and the clarity between us. The words became flesh, and that was a moment worth dwelling in.


~lg

afternoon prayer :: abiding joy

There’s an intrinsic connection between abiding in the true Vine and true Joy (John 15). If I’m feeling my joy waning as the day wears on, it’s a sign I need to reach and root into the source of my life. Mid-afternoon is the perfect time to pause and become grounded.

It’s as simple as closing my eyes and taking a few deep breaths, imagining my inner life as the flow of sap between a vine and a branch, picturing the vital connection I have to love, beauty, strength, joy, and fruitfulness. It’s breathing His name – Jesus – as prayer, as petition, as practicing the presence of God. It’s drinking this aqua vitae from a well I have not dug. There is a peace that flows in, a moment of waiting, and then the strength begins to rise.

His life in mine, and mine in His, and ours together breathing and becoming one – ah yes – His joy becomes mine and mine becomes full. 

~lg

The Blessed Thorn

Where would I be without this thorn in my flesh?

Resting on plastic laurels of pride and vainglory.

This thorn - it keeps me near His crown. It pricks me to my knees, where my heart learns humility, to the ground of a tear soaked garden.

Without this thorn - whither the rose? Whither the scarlet hue and scent of beauty? Whither the unfolding of life, rising from dark and secret places? Whither the bloom of rooted victory?

This thorn - it keeps me real. It keeps me wrestling. It keeps me desperate for the blessing that comes to those who persevere in His presence.

Without this thorn - where would strength break through my shell?

This thorn - through its piercing the whispers come: My grace is sufficient for thee. My power is made perfect in weakness. 

I will not despise this wound, for through it the lifeblood flows.

Without this thorn, oh whither the rose?


~lg

When you need a break in the clouds

This afternoon, the winter clouds are thick and heavy with snow. Oh there is wonder in the whiteness of it all, but sometimes I just need a little break. This moment, this is the time to anchor. To make myself present before Him until I feel the warmth of His countenance shining on me like the afternoon sun.

One of R. A. Torrey's "secrets" to prayer is this:

"In order that a prayer should be really unto God, there must be a definite and conscious approach to God when we pray; we must have a definite and vivid realization that God is bending over us and listening as we pray."*

Before the words come tumbling out - this waiting. It may be only a few brief seconds, or it may take a few minutes to untangle our minds till they are set above. In this waiting we are led by the Holy Spirit into a conscious experience of God's presence. He gives us the beautiful vision of a God bent near, and this is the best beginning to prayer. Sometimes, it is prayer itself, beginning to end. Simply His countenance, set toward us.

Sometimes beholding beauty is enough. A wordless confidence passes between us, burdens are lifted, rest is released. I am blessed, kept, graced, and given peace. All this from His face.

This break in the clouds - this is the best sort of afternoon break, and the light I carry into the rest of the day.


~lg


* R. A. Torrey, How to Pray (Toronto: Fleming H. Revell Company, 1900), 32-33.