On Prayer

So this morning I got up, put on my socks and came to the living room to start the fire.  It is freezing in here.  I wanted to write for you sweet girls all the mechanics of prayer as soon as I finished my time with the Lord.  In the mornings I do a short devotional and leave the deeper study for later in the day (but not every day).

So I started the fire, then turned on praise music and got my glass of water.  I got a spoon out of the drawer to get a spoonful of almond butter (yum!) and noticed that the silver ware tray needed to be cleaned.  I started to get it out but saw the pile of dishes left over from feeding the girls and their friends last night.  A quick thought that I could knock those dishes out in no time popped right into my head.

The enemy.  Already trying to keep me from the important thing. Will I ever get mature enough to not be distracted by the enemy? Sheesh.

So I came back in here and did my Bible reading (dishes still all over the cabinet, tray still in the drawer) and then pulled the blanket over my head and started praying. The prayer this morning was how to share with you about prayer life.  At least this prayer was.  The prayer around 1:30 am was for someone else and the prayer around
4:00 am was for something else.

When I was in high school I learned about the mechanics of prayer.  They taught us ACTS.  Adoration, confession, thanksgiving, and supplication.  That is all great and I used that a lot at the time.  If I ever got distracted I would do some of them twice. Or three times.  I am easily distracted.

I was also encouraged at one time to write down my prayers.  I came across a journal of prayers from when the older kids were little.  Almost every prayer was confessing my impatience and unkindness and then asking for patience and kindness.  Almost every one.

There are a lot of books written on prayer, but I think Jesus nailed it.  Winky face.  The thing is, I know you all know all those things.  Example:  recognize Him as the one true God, praise His holiness, pray for the return of His kingdom, ask for daily provision, etc.  I know Who He is and His holiness - that is why I go to Him.  He is the ONLY answer.

Sometimes when I lay over in this big chair and pull the blanket over my head, I say nothing.  I feel like I am in the closet and I am just here.  He is too.  That is the beauty of the life of prayer.  It IS your life.   Whether you talk or sing or scream.  Or be quiet.

It looks different for me all of the time.  So many times I could tell you about when the Lord Himself put prayer into my heart to shoot right back at Him.  For six weeks before Steve got sick I prayed the same thing for him at the same time every morning.  It wasn't a prayer I read about anywhere, it just came to my heart.  No alarm was set.  The Lord woke me up because I had work to do even though I didn't know what work I was doing at the time.  A few days after his diagnosis, he told me what God was showing him and it was almost word for word what I had been praying.  It was at that moment, I knew the faithfulness of God.

Honestly girls, if you have a heart that draws near to Him,  He will show you exactly how to pray.  Many may disagree, but that is my testimony and I am sticking to it!

I love to pray scripture over us.  There is a book I had quite a while back called Praying Scriptures for your Children.  I will find out the author and get you that info.  It helped me so much to get the practice of that in my life and has continued on all of these years.

There were times, when I felt like I was in a battle for one of my kids, that I would walk and speak those scriptures out loud to the Lord.  More than one time I was so desperate I would yell it out loud to the Lord, claiming my kid back into His presence.  It wasn't long after that there was brokenness in that child.  Beautiful God.

Those times I was like the persistent widow in Luke 18.  I may have been able to pray once and leave it with Him, but most times I just kept on,  just like my kids do me until I get it done.

When you pray the scriptures, you know you are praying His will.  Ultimately that is the only thing we want.

When I was thinking about writing these things to you, I thought about how I don't pray enough.  Yet pray all of the time.  I read a quote by Brother Lawrence that pretty much nailed it for me.

"The time of business does not differ with me from the time of prayer.    And in the noise and clatter of my kitchen, while several persons are at the same time calling for different things, I possess God in as great tranquility as if I were on my knees."

Can I tell you that when I read this, I cried?  And then again as I just typed it?  Because it is true.  When I draw near to God, He and I are in constant communication.  In the middle of the night, in my closet time in the morning, while I am driving down the road.  I don't have to wonder which part of ACTS I am doing.   Or if I got the S before the C.

He and I - we just ARE.

He is faithful enough to give you the prayer you need to pray whenever, wherever that may be.

I have to admit I went to my knees in Walmart once, overwhelmed by His grace.  I didn't have to get on my knees to know the truth of the situation, but everything in my being wouldn't let me stand up.  I have had to pull over on the side of the road.  I walk.  I lay across the chairs in church.  I lay on the floor.  I do dishes.  Songs come on and I pray the words for the one the Lord lays on my heart.

One  of my most desperate praying times came while we were painting the girls' rooms.  Situations were dire, but life was happening and my heart cried with every roll of the brush.

So in all of this randomness, maybe there really aren't mechanics to our prayer.  We have the guide, but I honestly believe the more you love Him, the closer your heart draws to Him, the more powerful your prayer life will be.

And now.  Now even as I write this to you, I weep for you as I see each of your faces and pray that you draw near.  That is the only way.  Your desire for Him has to be priority.  Then your conversation with Him becomes non-stop, even when no words are spoken.

That is how good He is.

Gosh, I sure love you girls.

Four Hundred Forty Four Sundays

Eight and a half years ago our family walked into the church here to begin ministry.  Actually, only Michael walked in because he drove in the night before.  The rest of us hustled in the next morning because we were late - driving in from family reunion at the lake.  Jade was a part of the family then and we had Robby with us.  We began loving the people of this Czech community that day as a family.

After the big kids went home, it was just us.  A Daddy, a Momma and three little girls.  Hannah and Leah were ten and Rachel was nine.  They jumped into this place as if it was their very own.

They love it as if they were called separately by the Lord.  They care when people are sick, cry when they die, and celebrate when they come to Jesus.

It has never just been just Michael's ministry.  It has always been family.  In November we added Hugh to help with this work.  Such a sweet blessing.

Today is Rachel's last Sunday.  It has been four hundred and forty four Sundays since that first one in hot July 2005.

It hit me just a little bit ago when I was walking back into the church.  This will not be where I find her when she isn't at home or playing ultimate frisbee somewhere.  She won't be here anymore except to visit.

Her ministry will never be over here, but next Sunday she will walk through the doors of another place to worship.  Another place to serve.  We stop counting the Sundays here and start counting somewhere else.

Go with much grace and blessing, Rachie.  We love you and we are so proud of your desire to be right where God wants you to be.

Next week you can start counting anew.

Happy number one.

A Christmas Hallelujah

Michael, Jacob, Hannah, Leah and Rachel really blessed us that morning!

They Came With Haste

And they came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, 

and the baby lying in a manger. 

Luke 2:16

Haste: 1. to haste, make haste, hurry

              2. to desire earnestly

It seems like the only time we desire earnestly to spend time with Jesus is when our hearts hurt.  When we really need Him to step up and do something.

The shepherds couldn't wait to see Him.  They couldn't wait to be in the presence of the King.

I can pretty well guarantee that every single day I get in a hurry for something.  Whether it be to cook supper, clean house, get to a meeting, or get to the bathroom.  Smiley face.  While I'm working on one thing, my brain is already two or three steps ahead on the "to-do" list.

That really hit home to me the other day as I was pulling out of Sonic and tossed my straw paper toward the trash can, only to have it land back into my lap.  I had already rolled up my window.  

I mean.

If only I would channel all that hurry into an earnest desire to be in the Presence.  Just to be there because I can, not because I need something or the ache is just too much.  Just to listen and just to talk.  Maybe even to doze a little because I am just so darn comfortable being there.  

To hurry up and get there to slow down. 

To breathe deep.  Or maybe not deep - but just to breathe at all.

Why wouldn't I want to be in the presence of so much peace?  So much comfort?  Why wouldn't I want to get there as quickly as I could every morning when the sun is peeking up behind the barn?

I heard it from lips this week that all she wanted was to be home in the Word.  To be writing down notes from the Word.  That was where her only peace came from.

Back when the girls were little and the big kids were busy and we were going through an average of 15 gallons of milk a week, there would be times when other students would come to talk.  It had been one of those days where the stress level was high and a young lady showed up at my door. Her life was so full of insecurity that she would poke a finger in her throat to try to find significance.  We talked, we cried and we prayed.  As I closed the door behind her that day, I pressed my forehead on the back of the door.  It was just too much.  I could not carry another. single. thing. 

I ran for my Bible and then ran to the girls' play room and jumped up on the bed and started fanning.  Fanning the open Book like I was getting a whiff of a pot of spaghetti sauce simmering on the stove.  I could have been reading in Numbers for all I know.  

I had to have Word.  

I had to get to Peace and to Comfort.  I had to get there fast.

Just like those shepherds.  They had to get to the King.  It didn't matter that they may not have a job when they got back.  They had to get there.

I pray that today the only hurrying we do is to be in the Presence.  Not out of desperation or of need, but of longing.   

Hurry.  Go there quickly so you can slow down.  

A Weary World Rejoices

Every week there is another issue that divides family, friends, and country.  Every week we hear of mommas burying babies, and babies burying mommas.  Sometimes in the middle of all of the turmoil and tragedy, joy is also buried and weariness becomes our constant companion.

Shattered.

That word came across my phone more than once this past week.

I walk past the old organ and see the repaired ornament waiting to go on the tree.  It was broken when it was pulled out of the box.  When I saw the name on the bottom I took it to the "fix it spot" by Michael's chair.  It was ready to go on the tree just in time to take a picture and send it to say that our Father takes our shattering and fixes it.  Repairs it.  Makes it beautiful.  Only the fixer knows it was broken.  Then we become testimony of His grace for all to see.

Homesick.

I heard it in voices of girls wanting their mommas.  Just to talk.  Just to ask.  Just to be.  It doesn't matter that they have their own little ones to take care of.  They never get too old or too wise to need their own.  They wouldn't want them to leave Jesus, but they sure would take an afternoon just to feel arms.

Pushing my grocery cart around the corners was a little difficult because it was so heavy.  A sweet lady asked if I was feeding an army.  Almost.  My kids are coming home.  Then unexpected tears came from out of the blue as I take a wide turn around the aluminum foil at the end of the aisle.  So why am I crying in HEB?

My kids are coming home.

It is so exciting this year to celebrate arms full of baby after several years of emptiness.  We will celebrate a brand new marriage.  We will celebrate a new job and God's provision.

At the same time we will try to make the obvious not quite so obvious.  We will ask the Lord to fill up empty spaces and be quick to hug and quick to laugh.  We will cry together and be giddy together.

We rejoice because He is enough in our weariness.  She told me that with tears rolling down her cheeks.  He is enough momma.  He came as a baby to die as a man and come back as a Savior.  So that He could be enough when the absence hurts.

So we will celebrate and we will grieve.  We will grieve and we will celebrate.

A whole basket full of emotion.

This weary group will rejoice.

Hannah's Song

This is the song Hannah wrote and sang for her daddy at her wedding.


Three screaming baby girls echo through the house

One song from you and It’d be quieter than a mouse

Thank you for everything that you’ve done for me

I can’t express my love, My cup overflows

I love you Daddy

Bedtime songs were sweet, we’d memorize every word

Like ‘The Anchor Holds’ or ‘Papa’s Gonna Buy a Mockingbird’

Sweet dreams filled our heads as angels filled the air

The night ends in double kisses and a prayer

You always put us first that’s true

No matter what the day has put you through

I could never repay you for all that you do

I just wanted to stop a minute and say

Daddy, I love you

Now that we’re growing up, life is getting hard

You’re always there to say just stop and take it to the Lord

Thank you for leading us down the path you do

Another great reason why I’d like to say

Daddy, I love you

Daddy, I love you

Thank you for leading us down the path you do

Another great reason why I’d like to say

Daddy, I love you

Daddy, I love you