"So, Where's This Abundant Life You Promised?"

Yesterday, we lit the "Joy" candle of the Advent wreath at my mother-in-law's church (which confused me a bit, because we lit that candle LAST week at church in San Antonio -- but whatever). There was a little reading about how Christ came to bring us joy, and then there was a prayer thanking God for His gift of joy, and then I think we sang a song about joy.

And I found myself wondering about all the thousands and thousands of people celebrating Advent in churches around the world, lighting the Joy candle this week (or last week) and thinking, "Joy? What's that?"

Because I've been there. No joy. No peace. No hope. None of this stuff we're promoting as the benefits of Christ's coming. I talked the talk. I went through the motions. But none of it was real to me, and I knew it.

Not that I doubted who Christ was and why He came and what He did for me. But if I was honest with myself, none of it really made a measurable difference in my life.

And I'm wondering if some of you, dear readers, are there, too.

Singing the songs, reciting the prayers, saying the expected lines, but not feeling any of it.

Not that our feelings define reality, because they don't. Just because I FEEL afraid doesn't mean there's anything in my life to fear. Just because I FEEL hopeless doesn't mean there is no hope. Just because I FEEL alone and unloved doesn't mean that I am either. We cannot be ruled by the tyranny of our emotions when our emotions are influenced by so many things.

Nevertheless, if you are a believer, if you have surrendered your life to the lordship of Christ, there should be a difference. You should be able to look at the you from fifteen years ago and the you today and see that you are more at peace. More joyful. More hopeful. More like Christ and less like the world. And if you are not, I think you should seriously consider the possibility that something is very wrong in your spiritual life -- something that is critical enough for you to stop everything else and deal with right now.

I remember a point in my spiritual walk many years ago when I did a "face-to-face" with God and said, Alright, what's up with this? You make some very clear promises in your word. Not promises for an easy life or a "happy" life . . . I'm not even asking for those. But you promised an abundant life. You said that was why you came. Where is my abundant life? Where is my love, joy, peace, all that? You and I both know I can't produce it myself -- it has to come from your Spirit, a gift from you. So where is it? Am I doing something wrong? Am I reading that scripture wrong? Did you lie to me? What's the deal?

Don't tell me that's irreverent, or disrespectful -- that was REAL. And I'm convinced that God isn't interested in our routine, ritualized platitudes we recite every week if they aren't real. He'd rather we came to Him in a wrestling stance, as long as we're coming to Him actually wanting Him and not just out of habit or duty.

We all have our ups and downs in our faithwalk. Not every day is a mountaintop experience. But I want to encourage you, dear reader, if you are in this place -- where you're just going through the motions and you know you have been for a very long time, maybe even for your entire walk with Christ -- that you decide that 2015 will be the year that you either poop or get off the pot. That you will dig deep and wide into scripture, every day. That you will pray with purpose and desperation, many times a day. That you will ask questions of everyone you know who might have answers. That you will go to the places where God is expected to be and expect to find Him there. That you will intentionally and purposefully do everything you know to do to meet God . . . to meet God . . . to actually MEET GOD . . .  and finally find out if this Christianity stuff is for real or not.

So that next year, you can light the Joy candle with genuine joy, like I did this year. (Twice.)

Not-Yet-Answered Prayer

I've been convicted in the last year or two about intercessory prayer. For those of you not fluent in Churchese, that's a fancy word for praying for other people -- as opposed to praying for your own needs, praying to confess sin, praying to simply worship, etc.

There are eight or ten people that God has specifically laid on my heart that I've been praying for mightily for the last couple years. All different needs . . . all needs that require the hand of God. And I'm finding that this intercessory prayer thing is not easy. I remember a particular prayer warrior friend many years ago; whenever I asked her to pray for me about something (which happened often at that difficult time of my life), she would just smile radiantly and say, "Just another reason to spend time with my Father!" Her joy in this process was obvious.

This is not me, sorry to say. When I feel burdened to pray for someone, it is truly a burden and I don't enjoy the feeling. Worse, I'm impatient in the process. As I said, I've been seriously praying for the people on my list for a couple years, and I'm already discouraged at the "results." Only one request crossed off the list as answered: a friend found a job recently, but even that was after many months of unemployment. For most of my requests, I've seen little or no action of any kind. A couple situations have even seemed to get worse.

I've found myself asking God lately for just a little, quick answer. Just one little thing. Just a small sign to let me know that he's listening and working so I have the encouragement to persevere.

Remember the golden calf story from Exodus that I pontificated about all week last week? Interesting thing about that. This incident happened right after God brought the Israelites out of Egypt. Right after the ten miraculous plagues, including the angel of death. Right after the parting of the Red Sea. Right after God started showering the people with manna to feed them every morning (in fact, they were still eating manna during this time). Right after God met with Moses to establish a covenant with the people, a covenant they enthusiastically agreed to. Right after Moses and seventy elders literally met with God, experienced his physical presence, at the top of the mountain.

After all these miracles and wonders, all it took was forty days of Moses being away from the camp and the people not knowing when he was coming back . . . a mere month and a half, and they forgot it all. "Come, make us gods who will go before us," they said to Aaron. And Aaron -- who was one of those seventy elders who had just stood in God's physical presence -- obliged them.

How pathetic. Not the Israelites. Humanity, I mean.

This story was a good reminder to me right now. Miracles and wonders do not lead to belief. Scores of people saw Jesus' miracles and still shouted for his crucifixion. As much as I think just one little quick answer would increase my faith, it probably wouldn't. I would soon forget it; I would quickly be back to, "What have you done for me lately?"

God knows better than I do when a little quick answer will truly help me. I can wait. These prayers are not about me anyway.

Does God Change His Mind?

That Exodus passage in BSF last week, with the killing of the three thousand Hebrew rebels – there was something else in that passage that troubled me.

Before Moses actually descends the mountain and sees the golden calf and the revelry going on, God tells him what's happening. And God makes him an offer: I'll annihilate this stiff-necked people and start over with you. I'll make YOU a great nation. Whaddya say?

Now, Moses turns Him down and instead pleads for the people (later, he even offers himself to be destroyed in their place). And our lesson presented this as a test of Moses' spiritual leadership. Again, I'll have to study on that. Again, I assume that interpretation comes from principles found elsewhere in scripture because that take on the event is not explicit there in Exodus.

Two troubling things here: I was disturbed by the idea that God was saying he was willing to break his promise to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob – the promise that Israel would be great and would live in the Promised Land and be His people. God doesn't break promises. Right?

Maybe that's part of why we were being taught that this was simply a test of Moses. Maybe the assumption is that any reader of the book should KNOW that God would not – cannot – do such a thing and so you aren't to read it that way. Hmmm.

Then the scripture says that after Moses spoke on the people's behalf, “the Lord relented.” He gave in. He changed his mind.

THAT's the part that I struggle with most.

If God had in mind one action and then shifted to a different action, one of those actions wasn't “his perfect will”, yes? But there is ample evidence in the Bible that the prayers of His people have an effect on God – that he may do something different based on those prayers. I'm never exactly sure how that can be.

Every once in a while, I get a glimpse of understanding of this idea. I once read (or heard – don't remember which) an analogy about a ship crossing the Atlantic. The captain of that ship is in full control of where the ship is going. The end destination is determined. But the passengers have a lot of leeway about where they go and what they do while on that ship headed toward their destination.

That hints at the truth, but doesn't quite sum it up. I don't think we can ever completely sum it up in our human understanding. This is one of those great mysteries that we may never quite understand about God.

But if, again, we go back to the fact that God's primary purpose is re-establishing relationship with us, I can, again, get a glimpse of some understanding. Somehow, some way, God in His infinite power and wisdom has worked it out that my prayers – my reaching out to Him to acknowledge Him as who He is and ask for Him to act on His justice and mercy and wisdom in my world – MY PRAYERS can make things happen. He worked it out so the action He wants me to take to build that relationship also works to accomplish His will in the world.

Amazing. 

Why Should I Bother to Pray?

Last night was the final night of BSF for the year, and we spent the evening sharing what God has done in our lives through this year's study. I shared, but I felt like I did a lousy job of explaining myself. I hate it when I do that.

You see, for some reason, I've struggled this year with the idea of prayer -- of why it's necessary that we ask God for things. I mean, He's going to do what He's going to do, right? He's wiser than we are, much more knowledgeable, and I can trust Him to do the best thing for me and everyone I'm praying for. In fact, some of the stuff I may ask Him to do may be terrible ideas . . . so why should I ask? Those "unanswered" prayers that were probably blessings in disguise also tend to make me feel like He's not there listening sometimes . . . so I'm tempted to not ask at all.

So, yeah, I've struggled with that this year. But as we studied Matthew in BSF, I noticed something important.

Jesus prayed. A lot.

He would steal away from the crowds and spend all night in prayer sometimes, especially before an important event like the selecting of His disciples. Good heavens, if the man who was God Himself in the flesh needed to communicate with the Father . . . well, I don't quite understand the dynamics of that, but I don't need to understand the dynamics to understand that I surely have more need to pray than He does.

He not only asked God for things, He specifically instructed us to ask God for things -- and to ask with persistence and importunity (a word I've been reading in the works of some older authors and had to look up) and with the expectation of a positive answer.

So, I decided at some point that it doesn't really matter if I understand the mechanics of this praying business. Jesus told me to bring my requests to God, and so there must be a good reason why I need to do that. So I kept praying . . . and I kept asking for the faith to continue to pray and, if He would be gracious enough to give it to me, the understanding of why. And behold, my God is gracious -- I think I have an inkling of why today.

For some reason, God made the decision to do His work on earth through the Church -- not the institution, but the individual believers. We are His body, He taught us. We are His hands and feet in the world. He could very easily feed the poor by zapping food-bearing plants in the ground at their feet, but He usually chooses instead to feed them through our giving of our excess. He could easily touch the cancer cells in a diseased body and make them disappear, but He usually chooses instead to heal them through the hands of a doctor. He could wrap up the lonely in His own spiritual comfort, but He usually chooses instead to send a friend to wrap their arms around them.

It seems an inefficient way to get His work done, relying on unreliable human beings who are prone to selfishness and sin. But only if you think that His ultimate goal is to get His work done. I don't think it is. His ultimate goal is to restore relationship between us and Him -- genuine, reality-based, intimate relationship that lasts for eternity.

When my daughters were tiny ones, I could prepare dinner for my family much more efficiently without their assistance, but I brought them into the kitchen to help sometimes -- partly to teach them the skills to do it themselves someday, but also to spend the time with them. To develop our relationship. Working together in this way tied strings around our hearts that bonded us together.

If God just gave me good things without my ever coming to Him to ask for them, I would probably never really connect those good things with Him (let's be honest, that already happens, doesn't it?). When I come to Him with my requests, I'm reminded that He is the source of all good things . . . I'm reminded of my smallness and His greatness . . . I'm reminded of how much God loves me and stirred to love Him all the more . . . I'm brought back to the relationship between us . . . and that relationship is far more important to God than the giving to me of good things, because earthly good things will pass away, but my relationship with Him is forever.

So, there -- that's what I wanted to say at BSF last night. Thanks for listening. :)