Prayer 37

Lord, I don't waste my suffering and I don't get drunk on my sorrows. And you know how many times I've picked myself up for no other reason than to prove that you are a God who redeems.
A God who uncovers secret strengths. And though I am apparently programmed to fail, you infect my system with perplexing math, with a divine virus, with a subversive code, that redirects all my rebelliousness and recalculates all my possibility metrics.
So now it is just a matter of time.

(Philippians 1:19; Psalm 4:1, 81:7)

.

Prayer 36

Heavenly father, your grace is sweet and potent. The tiniest drop (a kind word, a vote of confidence, an act of loyalty) can scatter the toxic clouds that clutter our minds. One drop of your grace, transported through your holy servants, can shift even the most entrenched paradigms. One minute I'm a pinball at the bottom of the coffee can, the next minute I'm back in the game, bouncing off the "triple-score."

(Hebrews 13:9; 1 Corinthians 15:10)

Prayer 35

I am deep in thorns, Lord. I hear whispers and rumors of your grace. I feel heat over my shoulder. I see shadows from your hot white light. But I am too entangled in the thorns to face it (I'm punctured everywhere I move). But your precious proclamations have been sown into my heart. Protect your investment, Lord. Free me from these thistles and place me on good soil so I can grow and learn. You've invested in my soul; Help me bring about a good return.

(Matthew 13:18-23)

Prayer 34

Lord, I feel like I'm stranded in the land of dumb ideas without a compass or a light. I feel like a snake-charmer down on my luck. There is no time to survey the damage and I've come too far to cut my losses. So I just keep marching forward like each and every step is my very last chance. Onward & forward in a perseverance trance. Lord, according to your Word, there are things that you will remember and there are things that you will forget.

So I continue to strive to penetrate the canvas of your mind.

To pierce the sphere of kingdom love.

To secure my spot in your eternal thought.

(Revelations 2:2; Hebrews 6:10; Jeremiah 31:34)

Prayer 33

Judgment is so smooth and easy in this world, while love seems tedious and stale. Life is a marketplace of human value, where people invest in only those relationships that will bring them the most personal gain. And when someone wise, beautiful, or “well off” affirms us with their attention, we feel the deep tingle and warm surge, and we feel good about ourselves for a moment. And soon we are re-orienting our lives and becoming servants to the social marketplace, fighting to meet the impossible expectations and the invisible standards of the world’s social economy. But you, Lord, are not ashamed to declare me as part of your family. And your expectations are clear and written on my heart. And your standards are infused with grace. And your Son and your Spirit ensure my place in your eternal home.

(Hebrews 2:11-12)

Prayer 32

Wait a minute, Lord, what is this? Here and there in your sacred text... in the stories and in the prophesies... with Elijah and Elisha... magic horses! Flaming chariots and magic horses that streak across the sky! Lord, how do I get a ride? I want to sit in those saddles. I want to grasp the reigns of those chariots. Bring me to your stables, Lord. Help me be worthy of such a thrill.

(2 Kings 2:11, 6:17; Isaiah 66:15)

Prayer 31

Lord, I'm always tapping the keys on my deranged calculator, saying "what am I worth? How good am I? What can I do?" Half my soul is desperate for some sort of affirmation, no matter how arbitrary. The rest of me is pompous and cavalier in my assumptions of self worth. (If I were in a land of giants I wouldn't feel any smaller, yet I'm always terrified that I'm not accomplishing enough). The conclusions to my equations are always skewed. The math in the equation remains the same, but the answers always change. Forgive my constant appraisals and my worthless estimations. Just don't let me see myself as smaller than I am (1 Samuel 15:17) and don't let me overestimate myself (Romans 12:3, 16) and above all do not let others overestimate me (2 Corinthians 12:6). Guide me in sober judgment and please, please pull me out of my stupid math games and self-assessments.

Prayer 30 !

Lord, I don't think much about the complicated prophecies of "end times" and "final chapters." I just assume your mercy and justice will somehow infiltrate this chaotic creation (to level out the wrinkles, to unify all our bifurcated tongues, to free your servants from these unholy barnacles that have been sucking the glow out of our spirits). I'm sure it will all happen fast. We will stand speechless amidst the rushing scenes, the quickening, the morbid beauty of snowflakes falling on Satan's carcass, the redemption of oppressed miracles, and the cold corrections of your Holy accountants. And if I'm here at this accumulation of all our moral inertias, this summation of all our uncertainties, I will be kneeling. And the pressures and perspectives that have tightened around us like nooses will loosen, and beams of light will shoot from the Holy Spirit's eyes, and I'll be kneeling (wherever I am) until these spirals unwind.
(Revelations 19:21, 21:3-4)

Prayer 29

Lord, I know I seem to squander everything I store up. Everything I toil to build I break apart with a wave and a shrug. And everything I collect I scatter.
So all my plastic palaces melt into the sewer drains, and all my paper castles explode into clouds of confetti and rain down around me. Because
"nothing to lose" is too much for me to lose, I guess.

Prayer 28

Boredom comes and goes like wind and I fear it.
Because boredom is a gravity that increases exponentially.
It is a toxic fog that amplifies puny temptations. It deconstructs our best defenses, like an invisible venom in the air (and I'm always fumbling for an antidote). Because even great people can get whittled down by boredom. We become addicted to entertainment, and deify all that is cute or clever. Lord, that's not how I want to go down. Give me meaningful tasks. Give me relevant activity.
Give me projects for my mind and hands.
(Philippians 2:12-13, 3:19; 2 Thess 3:6; Pr. 31:27)

God at the Docks

It’s a change that I can make.
The Lord’s promises do not fail.
I long to sit on the dock at the lake.
I long for letters in my mail.

Hezekiah did not want to die.
The Lord hears the righteous’ plea.
A tombstone and a buzzing fly…
“I’m not yet who I want to be.”

The city streets are always bright.
The Lord gave Judas wine and bread.
Even bugs are drawn to light,
So well-placed spiders get well fed.

Adam and Eve could have done better.
The Lord’s chances are not fake.
How long til someone writes a letter?
How long did Adam’s grieving take?

I like it when the lake is calm.
The Lord will finish what He starts.
Which was David’s favorite Psalm?
The Lord will heal our wounded hearts.

Turtle Lake - 2004 - I miss that year

Prayer 27

Lord, the world does not shock me anymore, and what people do rarely alarms me. And I know that some people get comfort out of the moral failures of others. But I am not shocked by any of this. Because I know people compromise their lives for complicated lies. Their compasses are disoriented and their expectations are perverted. They spill white-out on their Bible verses just to get high off the fumes. And I know I’m on a sinking ship. I'm just trying to reach land, while narcissistic mermaids redirect my rudders, and smug pirates tear my sails. But my ship remains in the right direction. And I can’t wait to see their shock and awe when I reach the shore.
When I cross the line.
When I approach the door.
(Philippians 1:28; 1 Peter 4:4, 12)

Prayer 26

Lord, you have started some amazing things inside of me.
Pleasant things. Peaceful things.
My heart was once a blood-pump for a productivity vessel,
but now it is a bonfire for butterflies that flutter around my chest to warm their frosted wings. And I'm always trying to cool the fire, because I'm still not used to this uncanny joy.
And I'm always turning away, because I'm still trapped in this dimension of death and limitation. But the Apostle Paul comes to me with his crystal ball. He reads my palm:
"He who began a good work in you will carry it through."
Forgive me when I distract myself from you.
Guard my heart.
Carry me through.
[Philippians 1:6]

Prayer 25

My Lord and my guardian,
protect my heart from reckless tongues
and the invisible portals where compliments convert to flattery. Because pleasant words are powerful opiates that give speakers easy power - an easy power that can intoxicate even the best people, until they are wielding it
to control, to use up, and to ruin unsuspecting hearts.
Flattery is a deceptive force that warps and perverts the holy physics of the spirit.
Protect my heart from the frozen tongues of flattery.
And if I should be tempted to flatter,
prick me with a pin, punch me in the gut, poke me in the eye;
keep me from committing the pathetic compromise of flattery.
(Psalm 12:3, Pr. 26:28, 1 Thess. 2:5)

Prayer 24

Lord, we once worked the fields with our hands and we excavated the mines with our legs and our backs. We would glisten with sweat as we pushed our bodies to their limits, while our minds were free to dwell on anything we wanted to.
But now look at us! Our bodies have become soft and dry (we douse them with lotions!). Now we harvest and toil over rivers of data and information that overflow our minds, leaving little mental space to dwell on your commandments and your great love. We are bound and shackled by formality and documentation. We retaliate with "casual day," but are left without relief or thrill. Your people have overthrown massive armies.
But now we've become powerless to pudgy investors and smug stockholders who have no need to fear our uprising
because we're in love with our captivity.
Shine your light on our condition, Lord. Expose our error.
Show us a pathway, an open window, a ladder to an open space, where we can sing new songs of praise,
with fresh metaphors for our deep gratitude.
(John 3:19; Psalm 119:133; Prov. 5:22; Rev. 1:5)

Prayer 23

So many times my mind initiates my movement when my movement should be transforming my mind. My faith should be an active faith, out of the realm of mind, into the realm of limbs and tangibility. I should be acting out my faith. I should be imitating my Shepard. I should be engaging the world. Instead, I often shrink back into the feeble trenches of intellectual reflection, bound to a chair under the captivating security of a book.
Reading... Thinking... Conceptualizing...
As if there were scorpions in all the window sills; vipers in the doorways; tarantulas on the parapets. As if, in my endless reading, I might stumble upon just the right series of propositions that will entail just the right conclusion that will make living out my faith as a disciple inevitable, unambiguous, and easy. As if constructing the perfect concept of your kingdom will finally unshackle me and animate my movements. But the transformation of the mind does not begin in the mind, it begins in the sacrifice of the body (Romans 12:1). And 'understanding' is not about the concepts in our brain, but about the content of our behavior(Job 28:28). Knowledge grows from who I am and what I do, not what I know. Amen.

Prayer 22

Lord, structure and routine can feel inhuman,
and inactivity seems like powerlessness to me - like I'm
paralyzed on a balance beam, like I'm bound up and blindfolded, riding backwards on a conveyor belt. And authority seems hostile to my mind, so I resist obedience. And my heart is a fragile trigger, so I'm always too quick to act. But even if I callous and blister, even if I waste some earthly opportunity, I will learn to wait on you, Lord. And I will strive to obey your commands, even when it means standing still. Slowing up. Calming down.

(Psalm 27:14)

Prayer 21

Lord, I've been that sluggard yoked in thorns.
I've been that hasty imbecile, squandering all my blessings
on the myth of quick fortune. In the days when my imagination would conjure up a thousand dreams, I would chase them all until I collapsed in worthless exhaustion. But now I am your servant, Lord, and you have brought me up in diligence. Financial distractions and capitalistic visions flutter around me,
but I shoo them away with the swipe of a hand and my feet remain behind my plow. Charming people enchant me with fantastic strategies for freedom and liesure, but it's all just complicated mediocrity, pure and simple, designed to reinforce laziness. And no amount of leisure will satisfy our spirit if that leisure is the product of self-centered labor.
Zeal fails the self-centered.
Their paths are futile.
Their nooses are fully exposed.
(Proverbs 12:11, 15:19, 21:5; Romans 12:11)

Prayer 20

We receive your great comfort, Lord, and it engulfs us in calm.
We still struggle and grieve, but are quickly liberated by deep, deep reprieve. We shrug off all fretting and we turn our minds from each and every fear addict. Because so much of what we see as drastic and tragic is simply melodramatic; a big, dumb show, where godless actors catastrophize their inconveniences. But we are pillars in the chaos. Anger and disappointment may burn and ache within us, but it fades faster than a cigarette ash, faster than a firefly's ass. Lord, your love is superglue that binds together all our fractured parts; a cosmic soul-magnet that draws our inner-most pieces into an impenetrable core, immune from the troubles of a misguided world.
(Psalm 37:24, 46:1-3; John 16:33; II Corinthians 1:5)

Prayer 19

Sleep is nightly ether; Divine doses of anesthetics to induce fantastic dreams. Dreams where cryptic messages are buried deep inside the imagery of impossible circumstances.

Where kerosene kisses from long departed lovers expose the deepest longings of our heart.
Where our father figures hover over us to condemn any traces of greed, sloth, or lust that creep into our scenes.

Where the ridiculous and the absurd do not trouble our expectations. Lord, you speak to us through the fables and riddles of our dreams so that we can improve our waking life.
Yet, as sweet as sleep may be, I know it is foolish to love sleep (Proverbs 20:13). It is dangerous, for we are all in Delilah's lap (Judges 16:18-21). Yes, we are in Delilah's lap,
and she knows what she needs to know.
(See also: Psalm 127:2, Joel 2:28)

Prayer 18

Humanity tends to succumb to averages and scales. I wish it wasn't so, but it is. We wander down our paths-of-least-resistance, and become animated only when it is fashionable to do so.
Our goals and pursuits are so very prudent and measurable,
Yet we are helpless hedonists floating through the void.
We are scatterbrained believers tumbling from the pews,
who shift directions whenever our herd changes course.
A single tongue can take down a thousand of our hearts,
or lift a thousand of our souls from the grave.
If I am destined to be in the herd, help me judge the tongues that lead. If my tongue is destined to lead, Lord, claim it for your own. Anoint it. Baptize it with fire and disentangle it from the web of selfishness that squanders its power.
(Matt. 9:36; James 3:3-12)

Prayer 17

Lord, naive compassion fills the streets. Peace signs greet us everywhere, but there is no peace. Of course, the issue is never peace. Everyone wants peace, from Hitler to Al Qaeda. There is no peace. There is no peace because the issue is never peace but the TERMS for peace. And the terms for peace are too often about possessing resources and assets, and excluding others from them.
Lord you are the God of the oppressed and the oppressor.
Lord, if I must be forgiven for pursuing financial stability, convict me and forgive me. Do what you must to my possessions for the sake of peace.
But do not let me be naive.
I am the oppressor.
Me.
I am the oppressor.
(Ezek. 13:10; Is. 32:17; Psalm 120:10)

Prayer 16

Lord, your love for us is confounding. That you will forget all of my sins. That you will not remember my tongue and all the people it has mislead. That you will gather up my lies in a bucket and toss them into the formless void. That you will consume with fire all of my self-gratifying deeds and trap the ashes in an impenetrable urn. Will you really forget my iniquities? Is it even possible?
Can an omniscient God choose to forget?
Truly, you are great. How incomprehensibly blessed we are to have a God who surrenders portions of his own infinity to lift and embrace a people so troubled and insecure.
(Isaiah 43:18-19,25, 65:17; Jeremiah 31:34)

Prayer 15

Your Spirit is a fire-breathing dragon,
10 stories tall, 4 gospels wide.
Many people will do anything to avoid your piercing eyes
and hot hot breath, and I understand why. Because your judgments are true, and they separate us from the stupid things we cling to. They tear us from our comfort objects and trivialize the lies we use to "get by." But I no longer care about "getting by." All I want is to be embraced into your fellowship. I want to be tapped and crowned as an eternal citizen. I want to be on the counsel of your cosmic love monopoly. I am the sickly child seeking your physician. I am the pyromaniac disciple eager to burn under your searing appraisals. Speak your judgments clearly. Point out my foolishness with loud noises and vivid colors. Do not be "nice," because the reward is so great, and the alternative is so artificial and poorly lit. Many people will do anything to avoid guilt, blame, and responsibility, and I understand why: Because lies are sweet when you are shrouded in denial. And the shortest shepherd looks so very tall when you're looking up from a hole.
(Proverbs 3:11, 15:10; Hebrews 12:5-6, 10-11; Psalm 51:8)

Prayer 13

Lord, your counsel liberates your servants and we are grateful. We are striving for character, and we are obtaining it deep within ourselves. We are experimenting with righteousness, and we are establishing it from the inside out. Lord, the people of the world are cartoon characters who try to convince us to complain. We shrug and go about our way. They are cartoons, who idolize personality. Some draw us in with their niceness, never saying a single confrontational thing. Some intoxicate us with their sadness, longing to tell us the saddest thing we've ever heard. Some distract us with their comedy, creating loud laughter at anyone's expense. Let us not be puppets to personality, Lord. Personality is a heart-muzzle, and pursuing it is self-stultifying.
We want Kingdom character.
Guide us to it.
Guard us from the sneaky traps of personality.
(Proverbs 7:1-6)

Prayer 12

Lord, your loyalty empowers me. You pour out your steadfast loyalty and it propagates until each of us has the unflinching loyalty of Ruth, or the focused loyalty of Rehoboam's Levites. Loyalty orients us towards eternity. Without it we wander away from every stable thing. We slip quickly into stupid delusions. We act on every meaningless impulse and pursue the impossibility of perpetual gratification.

Make your loyalty vivid, Lord, and provoke me to courage. Guard me from every capricious person. Guard me from the negligence of bridge-burners.
They all seem stable, but they are scatterbrained.
They are apples on the train tracks.
They are grapes in the dust of the desert.
(Ruth 1:16; 2 Chronicles 11:13-14; Proverbs 17:17)

Prayer 11

Confession.
I'm not so foolish to mock it, but like a coward I swallow it. Of course, it is not really the confession that curdles me, it is the dread of renunciation; The horrible weight (that will inevitably compel my transformation), the impending "bad news" that I might now be obligated to never do those confessed sins again. But I've grown too old to hide them now (it's like trying to hide a carnival). So teach me, Lord, to genuinely confess
(in small portions, please).
Lord, You are Omni-Merciful.
You are calling me to higher places, and I want to perceive that elevated view. Guide me up that mountain to your presence. Help me to confess (in measured paces).
(Proverbs 28:13; John 9:41)

Prayer 10

The world is a supermarket of pleasure-pushers
and hucksters peddling dopamine surges.
Look at us: so needy and discontent that even the dumbest thrill can seem like transcendence. It even gets difficult to distinguish desire from lust. Our lives, Lord, have become battlefields of sensation and pleasure.
It's creation versus the world.
It's discipline versus dopamine.
It's obedience to you, God, versus dependence on the world.
The eternity of your kingdom,
or the evaporating scams & 10-minute thrills of the world.
And the things that thrill us kill us.
The things that thrill us kill us.
...

(1 John 2:15-19)

Prayer 9

Words are hypnotic and hostile. They are viruses carried along on sound waves. We need to be a mental acrobats, with the agility of superheros, to not get embrangled by them. We need to be able to distinguish things like kindness from niceness, humility from humiliation, and habit from disease. In our world everything destructive, perverted, or immoral is either celebrated as liberation and worn like a badge, or is labeled a "brain problem" and augmented with complicated chemicals - while every Godly word is dismissed as primitive and ignorant. But you, Lord, have put before us fire and water, and your Spirit ignites our suspicions when the wisdom of the world tries to oppress your superb "foolishness." Protect our minds from the trappings of seductive words. Protect our hearts from the simplicity of secular thought. Convict us of your counter-cultural truth. Convince us. Help us see the principalities and powers behind every verb & noun
of every proposition.

(Mark 13:31; 1 Cor. 1:20-25;Jeremiah 9:8)

Prayer 8

The Bible is our battle plan, decoded by the Holy Spirit.
It commands us to be self-controlled.
Because the enemy is instability,
who charms us with inflated desires.
Our battle plan commands us to be alert.
Because the enemy is instability,
who distracts us with worthless alternatives.
Our battle plan commands us to be clear minded.
Because the enemy is instability,
who softens our thoughts with over-stimulation.

The enemy is instability of mind and heart.
The enemy is instability of health and life.
But the Bible is our battle plan, decoded by the Holy Spirit,
to overcome our instabilities.
(Prov. 25:28, 1 Pet. 1:13, 4:7, 5:8)

Prayer 7

Lord, your silence is terrifying. Your distance is a great obstacle to my faith. Am I praying in a coffee can? Where do I stand with you? We are fickle people who go about our day. With a faint breeze of good fortune we feel loved. Then with a drop of bad news we gnaw our lip and question our eternal security. We make one good choice and think we could stand with Moses to meet you face-to-face. Then we squander our fruit on selfishness and scamper for places to hide. Lord, what good is my redemption to you if only heaven sees it? What good is the grace you will pour out on me if not even one God-hater witnesses it? What good is your justice to the oppressed if the oppressors are all deep in the grave before you bring it? Lord, bring redemption now. Pour out your grace now. Bring justice now. Let us see fear in the eyes of God-haters. Let us see the terrifying epiphanies of evil people.
Let us know where we stand.
Psalm 88:10-14

Prayer 6

Life on earth is rich with opportunities that call out to us in hypnotic voices, (each opportunity with the power to consume our lives). Forgive me if I chase too many. Reel me in if I become too distracted from the path you have set before me. Knock me down if I become so drunk on projects and accomplishments that I begin to gloat, or idolize silly things, like money and status. Because human motivation is a complicated thing that even the wisest soul struggles to grasp. Because all of the things we chase into our futures are often times driven by the vaguest of disappointments from our pasts. Because there are so many unseen people, and spirits, who lobby and urge our destruction for their own personal profit.
But you, Lord, lead us to true purposes and good company.
You are our navigator.
Our secret mission.
Our narrow escape.
(Jeremiah 17:9-14)

Prayer 5

Merciful Lord, who transforms his servants' toil to joy, my heart is pestered with envy. I've got my hands and eyes on the plow, while my mind ponders the gaiety of sinners, with their exuberant conquests of pleasure, and their fantastic possessions. Sometimes the success of others, even of your chosen servants, stains my heart with self-doubt, and I struggle to see myself as the beloved child that I am. I'm surrounded by gluttons and hedonists who have pleasure and relief at their whim, while I sweat and ache for invisible fruit.
And envy rots the fruit.
I bring before you my frustration, my silly complaint, while I know there are millions more oppressed and empty handed than I.
Bring back to me an ounce of your confidence.
Bring back to me a sense of your presence.
Come fill our lives with strange and wonderful things.

Proverbs 23:17-21, Luke 5:26, John 1:12

Prayer 4

Lord I marvel at the thought of your incarnation. I don't fully understand it (it seems almost absurd). That you became a burping, babbling baby to overthrow the supernatural salesman who bribes us. (What a perfect absurdity!) And it really happened! You were born, you picked up dirt, you knocked over tables, you rode on donkeys, you went to weddings, you threw massive parties, you went boating, and you drank wine - just a few Saturdays ago, a few miles away. You pierced the barrier between us and ignited your secret illumination into the world,
and our eyes are still adjusting to the light.
Hebrews 2:14-17

Prayer 3

Heavenly father, only your voice is worth pursuing and I am listening. I am seeking. I'm picking up clues in search of your holy presence. In a world that persuades us to dwell on our pasts, I am striving for my future. My past is toxic quicksand that lulls me into trances. I struggle to shrug it off. My past is a salesman, persuading me to be content with where I am and to make all sorts of compromises. I try my best to shrug it off. My past is a spirit-magnet that restrains my burdened spirit, and sometimes even overtakes me, leaving me in pitiful self-absorption with hot wet bullets streaking down my cheeks. But most of the time I fight it. I dwell on your promises. I see myself touching your cloak and being surrounded by your glory. Your promises are ether. Your Word is a heart-muzzle keeping me on your path. I'm picking up clues in search of your holy presence - where the past can be pondered from its proper perspective.
Philippians 3:13

Prayer 2

Gracious God, your earth is a battery that we cling to. It nourishes and recharges our body (our temple, our clay jar, our portal into the realm of living, our incomparable activity vessel). We cling to your battery so that we can keep doing all of the marvelous things you have set before us to do, like: Running and Eating and Dreaming. And when all of these Godly activities make us tired and sore, we can soak in hot water. And all of this sits before us because of your charity and love. It is here because you love us. It is here because delighting us delights you. How fortunate we are to have a God so good. How absurdly fortunate! We do not have to "earn" your gifts or "deserve" them, we just get to enjoy them. Certainly, there is no other worldview that regards us as highly as you do, Lord.
Psalms 36:6-9

Prayer 1

Every spiritual advance leads to greater levels of spiritual opposition. When I overcome one spiritual challenge a new one emerges like a weed, more deeply entrenched even than the previous. The game in all of this is to manage both self-reflection and other-centeredness. I know that I can not grow without examining myself, but I also know that I can not grow by focusing only on myself. But you, Lord, are patient. You wait. You watch. You empower. And I know you are standing in your lighthouse looking out over the dark ocean. You are leaning over the rail watching for me and waiting, with blankets and warm food.
1 Timothy 1:16