Watch and Pray

“Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation.”  Mark 14:38

I get the whole “bow your head and close your eyes when you pray” thing.  I really do.  The posture of reverence shows respect and darkness limits distractions, but, since prayer is a conversation, and since this conversation should be constant (as in “Pray without ceasing”), most of our praying should be done with eyes wide open.

In Ephesians 6:18 Paul reminds us to “be alert and always keep on praying for all the saints.”  To be alert is to be vigilantly watchful—aware of situations and surroundings.  To always keep on praying means to be continually turning our thoughts into prayers. In other words, “Watch and pray.”  This line of advice comes straight from Jesus’ admonition in the garden called Gethsemane.

“He took Peter, James and John along with him, and he began to be deeply distressed and troubled. ‘My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death,’ he said to them. ‘Stay here and keep watch’”(Mk 14:35).  Jesus bared the burden of His soul to His three closest friends and asked for their support during His heaviest hour, but His plea to watch didn’t work because they were soon snoring. “He returned to his disciples and found them sleeping. ‘Simon,’ he said to Peter, ‘are you asleep? Couldn’t you keep watch for one hour? Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.’”(Mk 14:37-38).

While a bit earlier Jesus had said only to “watch,” he now instructed them to “watch and pray.”  Why both? What is it about the combination of watching and praying that keeps us from sleeping and straying? Could it be that temptation diminishes when we focus on the power and purpose of God? Could it be that the mere trifles of the temporary seem less appealing as we consider the eternal? Perhaps such is so….

When we watch the world around us, we see the marvel and beauty of God’s creation—and we offer our adoration.

When we watch the world around us, we see the needs of others near and far—and we lift up our petitions.

When we watch the world around us, we sense the grandeur of God’s sovereignty—and we respond in humble submission. 

When we watch the world around us, we realize we are powerless to affect lasting change—and we call on the One who can.

When we watch the world around us, we see the constant provision of a caring Father—and we give Him our gratitude. 

As the old song says, “It takes two to make a thing go right,” and it takes both recognition and response to keep us awake, alert, and on the right path. Don’t let distractions or despair lull you to spiritual slumber.  Lift up your head, open your eyes, and pour out your heart.

Watch and pray.

The Graduate (Round 2)

On Saturday, my middle daughter graduates from high school. 

I write these words more to convince myself than to inform others because the reality of this event seems elusive.  It’s hard to wrap my head (and heart) around the fact that come the end of summer, another spot at the table will be empty, another bed will stay perfectly made, the laundry load will decrease, and my prayer load will increase.  In other words, it seems impossible that Camille will be in college.

I named my girl after the bright beauty of a flower, not the howl of a hurricane (though, at times, both were fitting—just ask the nursery volunteer specifically assigned only to her each Sunday morning), but from the moment she was born, she has loved to be with people and wanted to be connected and engaged.

God filled her with a desire to dance, and if she hears music, she has to move.  From the time she could toddle, she was twirling to whatever tune was playing. She danced in her car seat.  She danced in the dressing room.  She danced in the grocery aisle.  She danced at home.  She danced at church.  She danced in the yard.  She danced in the street, so, finally, her parents signed her up for “real” dance class where, each week, with a huge smile and happy eyes, she danced across the studio floor and onto the recital stage. But I’ll mostly remember the day she danced on the bleachers. 

She was five or six, and the Newsboys were in concert at Cypress Gardens. She was captivated by the sights and sounds (and the spinning drummer), but she came most alive when the band began to play “It Is You.”  Standing on top of the bleachers, swaying to the rhythm, with her small hands and little face raised to the sky, she sweetly but boldly sang, “It is You, we adore.  It is You, praises are for.  Only You, the heavens declare, it is You.  It is You.”

By God’s grace, she’s still singing and dancing to that same theme as she dons her cap and gown and turns her tassel on Saturday, and, by His unceasing grace, that refrain will repeat over and over in her affections and actions as she packs her car, moves into the dorm, dines at the cafeteria, dashes to class, and embraces the coming years of coffee-fueled study sessions, late night donut runs, long research papers, Navs Bible studies, intramural sports, and lots of fun with friends—both old and new. 

I can’t say I’m ready to let her go.  I will miss her sleepy smiles in the mornings and her strong hugs at night.  I will miss her laugh and her sparkle.  I will miss her asking about my day and answering questions about hers.  I will miss watching her swim, study, play tennis, read books, cheer for friends, listen to music, chat with her younger sister, and dance. I will miss our movie nights and beach days. I will miss her enjoyment of coffee and excitement over brownies.  I will just miss her.  But I wouldn’t want her to miss out on a moment of what’s ahead.  Her favorite Bible verse has always been Ephesians 2:10—“For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works that God has prepared in advance for us to do.”  As good as my plans for her may be, they can never compare to the great adventure God has already arranged, so, though my tears may fall, my heart is full.

God made something special when He fashioned you, my precious Camille, so go and grow.  Stay bright.  Be bold. Keep smiling. Never stop dancing.

And know that your momma loves you dearly.

Drenched

Not sure ‘bout where you live, but it’s mighty dry ‘round these parts.

Due to the lack of rain, grass is withering, trees are dying, and wildfires are blazing. Yard sprinklers can only do so much for the parched ground, and the bit of moisture they drop on a few scattered lawns has little impact on surrounding woods and lakes.  We need more than a shower.  We need a good drenching.

I hadn’t heard that word in a while, but my pastor used it last Sunday when he prayed for a fellow minister to be drenched in God’s Word.  Perhaps it was the arid air that made the reference so appropriate, but much more likely, and much more honestly, it was the dryness in my soul that caused the phrase to catch my ear.

I need to be drenched.  As of late, with the school year ending, one daughter graduating, one finishing her junior year, one completing her sophomore year in college, tennis districts, dance recital, prom, faculty meetings, and a slew of appointments, activities, and deadlines with work and church, my morning alarm has somehow crept later and later to allow for as much sleep as possible.  The result has been that the flow of God’s Word into my heart has been like the rain—diminishing. 

As I told my sweet friends at small group, sometimes it seems like I’m living off the “Verse of the Day” from my Bible app.  Thank God for that, but our souls need much more.  They need to be drenched instead of just catching a few drops from the sprinklers.

Our Father understands the seasons of our lives, and our bond with Him is a personal relationship—not a contract based on punching a time clock or checking boxes, but close relationships are created by intimacy, and intimacy is built by connection.  With God, that connection comes mainly and most through the sweet time of soaking in what He says and talking with Him about it in prayer. As His gracious Word falls on our dry or weary hearts, we are nourished and strengthened.  We are guided and encouraged.  We grow in knowing Him more and more, and His life overflows onto those around us. Sprinklers will do for a short time, but we need serious rain for the long haul, and that can only come from above.

The weather forecast may be for “hot and dry,” but God’s Word always calls for a good drenching.

“Let us know, let us press on to know the Lord. He will come to us like the rain—like the spring rains that water the earth.” Hosea 6:3

Silent Saturday

On Saturday, God was silent.

Sandwiched between Friday’s horror and Sunday’s hallelujah is Saturday’s silence.  It was the Sabbath—a day of rest and rejoicing.  A time for contemplation of what God had done and anticipation of what He would do.  On Saturday, Jesus’ followers could do neither.  Rest would not come, for the reality was too raw.  And in what could they rejoice?

The dream was dead.  The final act finished, with the curtain closed forever.  This was a true tragedy—ending with the funeral of the main character. 

They were shocked and stunned.  Jesus had called and they had come, certain He was the Savior.  He spoke and the lame leaped.  He touched and the blind could see.  His word had healed desperate lepers and hailed a dead Lazarus.  Couldn’t He have done something?  Anything?

On Saturday, the disciples weren’t together.  Safety may be in numbers, but crowds bring little comfort.  Jesus had promised peace, but they were full of pain.  He had assured them of abundance, but each felt empty. And all wondered, “Why?”

The ones who loved Him weren’t waiting in hope.  They were weeping.  They didn’t dream of a vacant grave.  They were grieving.  There was no expectation.  No suspense.  No “wait and see.”  Only silence.  And the sound of heavy hearts breaking in sorrow.

We will never know the depth of their despair, for we will never spend a moment alive when Jesus is dead.

Saturday was silent, but the hush was holy.  No one heard the rustling backstage as Jesus readied for His curtain call.  They really should have known.  Many times He had told them.

All’s well that ends well.

You're Welcome

“Whoever is thirsty, let him come.”  Revelation 22:17

I noticed something new during last Sunday’s communion.  The pewter goblet my pastor held up to represent the Passover cup was embossed with a small pineapple at the top. Since the juice inside didn’t come from the fruit on the outside, why the decoration?

The story goes something like this:  When Christopher Columbus and crew arrived on our side of the world for the second time, they came across a fruit Columbus described in his ship’s log as having the shape of a pine cone and the sweetness of an apple—hence, the pineapple.  This delicious fruit became a luxury item in the courts of Europe and, later, in the finest homes of the United States.  Since growing the fruit in cool climates was impossible, the few fresh ones that were shipped to New York or Boston were often rented out as decorations for fancy dinner parties. After several evenings of gracing tables as stunning centerpieces, a pineapple would be purchased by a wealthy family and finally cut and served as a rare delicacy.  Dinner guests who saw a pineapple at their party knew that no expense had been spared in providing them the best. This generosity of hosts and hostesses, combined with the Caribbean practice of setting a pineapple outside the door if receiving visitors, turned the pineapple into the international symbol of welcome and hospitality.

My pastor had not purchased a pineapple cup on purpose, but the symbol could not be more fitting for nowhere on earth can a table be found where the host is more generous and the guests more welcomed.  The One who invites us to His supper paid for the meal with His very life, and He will never turn away any who come. “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty”(Jn 6:35).  “The Spirit and the Bride say, ‘Come!’ And let him who hears say, ‘Come!’  Whoever is thirsty, let him come; and whoever wishes, let him take the free gift of the water of life”(Rev 22:17).

The door has been flung open wide, and any who desire may walk right in. No expense has been spared in providing the very best, and no meal has ever cost so much.  “He took the break, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, ‘This is my body given for you…In the same way, he took the cup, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you”(Lk 22:19-20.) 

Because Jesus went to the cross, we can come to the table.

You’re very welcome.

Savor the Flavor

“Taste and see that the Lord is good.” Psalm 34:8

Yesterday was the first Sunday of the month which means it was communion Sunday at my church, and I’d been counting down the days. Let’s just start by setting the record straight--hands down, my church has the best communion bread on the planet.  Please don’t be offended because I’m sure your church is lovely and delightful and that your communion bread is special too, but mine is the best.   It’s made from a recipe that probably came over on a boat from the Old World centuries ago, and it’s a lot like a little shortbread cookie—which is exactly why I was so excited.

In an effort to help focus my mind and heart on God’s grace and sacrifice, I gave up sugary treats for Lent, but I knew that when the first Sunday in April rolled around, I would have a one-half inch square of sweetness to savor, and I could hardly wait for the tasty morsel to touch my tongue.

It did not disappoint. Usually the bit of bread has only a subtle sweetness, but yesterday the flavor was intense.  Had I not known better, I might have assumed the recipe had been altered, but I was the one who had changed.  By not dulling my senses with substitutes over the past several weeks, I was able to fully appreciate all the goodness of the real thing. 

As I scavenged the last crumb off my finger, the spiritual application was only too obvious.  How much of God’s sweet goodness do we miss by filling our lives with what’s fake? This world tempts us with plate after plate of enticing and inviting treats.  They look good.  They smell good.  And for a brief moment, they taste good—but before long their bitter aftertaste overpowers the temporary sweetness, and we are left longing for something more.

Thankfully, God’s table is set with endless dishes of delight which satisfy all our cravings and fulfill all our desires. “How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth”(Ps 119:103).  The Bible is an endless buffet offering holy fare for every course of our lives, and the more we dig in, the more we will crave all the goodness of the real thing. “O taste and see that the Lord is good”(Ps 34:8).

Don’t dull your senses by settling for substitutes.

Savor the flavor of God’s sweet grace.  

Singin' In The Rain

“When they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives.”  Mark 14:26

“If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands,” says a favorite children’s tune which invites the singer to demonstrate glad emotion by also stomping feet, saying “Amen!” and doing all three in syncopated sequence.  If the circumstances of life are pleasant and positive, singing this song is easy, but when we’re facing trials and tribulations, a chippy melody doesn’t make much sense. There are songs for times like these.  “If you’re struggling and you know it, nod your head,” is a verse we could add to the former, and the list goes on.  As Elton John aptly intoned, “Sad songs they say so much.” Such is the wonder of music. No matter the emotion, words set to melodies give voice to our feelings.  And to our faith. 

The Israelites sang when God swept the Egyptians away in the Red Sea.  They sang when He provided water in the wilderness at the well of Beer. (I see you smiling!) Soon before his death, Moses serenaded the entire nation with a ballad about God’s faithfulness, justice, and vengeance.  Deborah and Barak crooned about God’s rescue from Canaanite oppression.  David lifted up a song of praise when God delivered him from all his enemies.  Zechariah belted out a “Spirited” tune when John the Baptist was finally born. Mary glorified the Lord with song when she grasped His grace in her overflowing heart and her ever-growing belly. And Jesus led His eleven apostles in a hymn as they ended the Last Supper and headed to Gethsemane.  “When they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives”(Mk 14:26).

In Greek, what we translate as “sung a hymn” is really only one word—humneo, which simply means “to hymn, sing praise, celebrate or worship with hymns.”  In other words, the verse really says, “When they had hymned, they went out to the Mount.”  

“To hymn” is more than mixing lyrics with melody; it is intentionally, deliberately, and emphatically declaring truth and praise about and toward the only One who is both worthy and wonderful. Jewish tradition ended the Passover meal with the songs of Psalm 115-118 whose verses are filled with poignant references to the very scene in which Jesus and His disciples stood. The ones who would desert and deny but then return with unyielding devotion and the One who would willingly lay down His life to make us alive opened their mouths and worshiped with the words, “I will lift up the cup of salvation and call on the name on the Lord”(Ps 116:13).  “Praise the Lord, all nations!  Extol him, all peoples! For great is his steadfast love toward us, and the faithfulness of the Lord endures forever.  Praise the Lord!”(Ps 117:1-2). “The Lord is my strength and my song; he has become my salvation.  The stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone.  The Lord has done this, and it is marvelous in our eyes.  Save us, we pray, O Lord.  Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord”(Ps 118:14,22,25-26).

With the struggle of Gethsemane staring Jesus in the face and the shadow of the cross looming larger by the moment, Jesus sang—not because a tune made things better but because the truth made Him stronger.

When we’re facing the difficult, we can’t go wrong declaring Who’s right.

“Hymn” to Him.