Praying Uncomfortably
I'm overwhelmed by a sense of heaviness, and I've spent some time asking the Lord what He's doing.
I did read Joshua 13, and I think -- given that it's a distribution of lands that the Israelites conquer, and that this distribution continues in chapter 14, I'll return to Joshua again tomorrow... or the next day.
The Lord took me on a different journey this morning instead, an uncomfortable one:
I wrote in a post a while back (Smiling Past the Lions) that Quo vadis, Domine? is the Latin phrase for: Whither goest Thou, Lord? Where are you going, Lord?
I found myself asking that this morning: Where are we going? Where are You taking us, Your people, Your body?
Yesterday was Pentecost Sunday. Our service didn't focus on Acts 2 at the first arrival of the Holy Spirit when He settled in tongues of fire on the heads of the followers of Jesus who were gathered together in an upper room, but it did address something a little different and a tiny bit uncomfortable.
I don't know about you, but growing up as I did where I struggled to kick off the social pressure I felt when I wanted to raise my hands and praise the Lord in church, because people might see me -- this passage has always made me a little uncomfortable.
It's different. These people were acting abnormally. It's likely -- if others saw them through the windows -- that they were thought to be crazy, or -- as it says in Acts 2:13 -- drunk. "Some, however, made fun of them and said, 'They have had too much wine.'"
Yesterday, our pastor did something a little bit different from the norm. His message was based on Ephesians 3:7-19, and in 3:14, Paul writes: "For this reason, I kneel before the Father, from Whom His whole family in heaven and on earth derives its name."
And this is where the Lord led me today:
If we are too comfortable to get on our knees, we're too comfortable to fight the battle. Obviously, people have knee issues or knee pain or knee replacements or things that may keep them from actually and physically getting down on their knees, but here's my point: If we're comfortably praying, we're too comfortable.
Prayer, intercession, communion with the God of Heaven -- it's not necessarily supposed to be a fuzzy-wuzzy teddy bear experience. It's something I know I tended to push aside for years: I'd sing songs like: My Jesus, I Love Thee (which is a beautiful song with a powerful message) and I'd worship my Good Shepherd, the tender Provider of my needs, my Comforter, My Counselor.
That's powerful.
That's powerful.
So let's get to the place where we pray uncomfortably. Where we talk to the Father with enough discomfort that we recognize our own humanity and His divinity, where we realize and remember our dependence on Him, where we lay aside the idols we've set up.
Idols? Yes, idols.
Idols of self-righteousness and pride. Idols of agendas and causes.
But causes can be good things, right?
Does this make you cringe? I'm cringing. Because I recognize this in my own life.
So here's what I wrote yesterday and posted on Facebook, and it's still the message in my heart this morning: May we struggle down onto our knees (or whatever position you are most uncomfortable) and may we struggle back up, because it's in the struggle that we remember Who holds the power, that we remember Who is actually on the throne.
Here's a spoiler: It's not us.
One of the pastors at my church asked me to write a poem that had to do with this theme and to read it in the service yesterday. So I did, but I turned the poem into cover lyrics for Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah, and sang it instead. I posted the link on Facebook yesterday, and I'll post it here, too, along with the lyrics, but I loved finding the powerful stories of those who have gone before us -- who fought their battles from their knees.
On Our Knees: Hallelujah
Jacob wrestled with the Lord,
Just used his hands; refused the sword,
And wouldn't let Him go until He blessed him.
Trapped on his knees, his grip like steel,
He waited till He said: "Israel,"
And then he limped because the Lord had tested him.
Hallelujah, hallelujah,
Hallelujah, hallelujah!
When Daniel disobeyed the king,
Knelt down in prayer and did his thing,
He counted costs and he left the shutters swaying.
The king's advisers hated him;
They plotted and they baited him,
But Daniel stood among the lions praying,
Hallelujah, hallelujah,
Hallelujah, hallelujah!
And in the Garden, late at night,
Our Lord fell on His face to fight,
And bloody drops of sweat dripped down His forehead.
He won His battle from His knees,
He bore the cross and He gained the keys
To death, Hades, with victory rewarded.
Hallelujah, hallelujah,
Hallelujah, hallelujah!
Jacob, Daniel, Jesus prayed,
All three men intercession made,
In desperation, each man from his knees, then.
They gathered strength, they made a stand
With bended knees and with pleading hands,
Their spirits worshiping the God Who sees them.
Hallelujah, hallelujah,
Hallelujah, hallelujah!
It seems to me that on your knees,
There's power to fight your enemies,
Because you're broken, you've got no strength left to you.
So when your knees press in the dirt,
He takes your weakness and your hurt;
He wins because He's God, oh hallelujah!
Hallelujah, hallelujah,
Hallelujah, hallelujah!
One day, the Lord is coming back,
Though years are long and you lose track,
And often, you forget the One Who knew you.
But on that day, the one foretold,
The old, the young, the weak, the bold,
Will bow their knees, declaring: "Hallelujah!"
Hallelujah, hallelujah,
Hallelujah, hallelujah!
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