A Thanksgiving Prayer

American Snout

Moose Tracks

 O LORD our Lord, "You are a gracious God and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love, and relenting from disaster" (Jonah 4:2, ESV).

Lord, we give you thanks first and foremost because of who you are: you are good, and your steadfast love endures forever. No matter our circumstances, that still is true.

Thank you that you loved us so much you sent your Son to die for our sins when we were wicked, enemies, rebel sinners, hostile toward you in thoughts and deed. I was a child of wrath, deserving your judgment, just like all the other sons of Adam and daughters of Eve. But in your great mercy you saved me and all others who trust Jesus, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. By grace we are saved, through faith, and this is not our own doing but your kind, free, and undeserved gift. Nothing we can do will make you love us more, and nothing we can do will make you love us less. For this I thank You.

You saved us and called us with a holy calling. You gave us new birth to a living hope through the resurrection of Christ Jesus. You have filled your book with the poem of good works you prepared for us to do before we even took our first breath. You did not save us because of our works, but you saved us for the work of loving you and loving our neighbors through Your Spirit who dwells in us.

That same Spirit binds Your daughters and sons together in one body, a community transcending time and geography. You lead us to each other with perfect timing and providential preparation. You assign various gifts and empower us for service and stewardship in the building up of Your church. You set the lonely in families and watch over the orphan and the widow. When all human helpers fail and comforts flee, You are the help of the helpless and companion of the solitary.

For all these things, O Lord, I thank you.

For All the Lonely People

"…he himself has said, 'I will never leave you or abandon you.' Therefore, we may boldly say, 'The Lord is my helper; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?"
‭‭Hebrews‬ ‭13‬:‭5‬-‭6‬ ‭CSB‬‬, quoting Deuteronomy 31:6 and Psalm 118:6

Flame-hued sunset after a stormy afternoon

Are you lonely, friend?

If news headlines and my circle of acquaintances are representative, there's a good chance you are, and I am so sorry. Loneliness causes such heartache in the best of times, and during the holidays it tends to cause even more pain. My heart goes out to you, truly. If you aren't lonely as you read this, it is likely you have been recently or we'll be soon. As Elisabeth Elliot says, we are lonely because we are human. Loneliness entered human life in the garden of Eden, when spiritual death resulting from sin separated Adam and Eve from their first and truest friend, the Lord God who created them.

Chronic illness (and really, any kind of suffering) tend to isolate sufferers and their families.  Holidays may intensify any preexisting loneliness, whether we can't be with our loved ones or feel lonely because of differences or tensions alienating us from the people around us to some degree. We all want someone who truly sees us, knows us, and loves us anyway. Any diminishment or lack of that soothing security can feel lonely, whether we are literally alone or surrounded by people. No human can satisfy that longing fully; hence, loneliness is part of the human experience of walking around with a God-shaped vacuum inside us, an emptiness that can never completely be filled in this life.

How is the Christian to respond to loneliness when it assails us? With heartfelt prayers for your encouragement, I offer four suggestions:

• Lament the losses.
• Let go of my rights, expectations, and any sin in my response.  
• Love the communion of the saints.
• Lean into the fellowship of the Triune God.

First, we may lament the losses that have brought us to this place of isolation and loneliness. Whether loss of health, friends, church, spouse, or job, whether empty nest or prodigal loved ones, whether estrangement and misunderstanding or some combination of all these fuels our loneliness, we can and should lament them.  We grieve because we love. We grieve because it mattered. We grieve our own sins and the sins committed against us that have fractured relationships. Lament is an act of faith that turns toward God in our grief; pours out our complaint honestly to Him who knows it all; asks Him to intervene and heal the brokenness causing us pain; and trusts Him to hear and answer, even if His answer isn't what we want. He loves us and wants us to come to Him in our need. He is not repelled by sorrow and tears and even anger, but catches our tears in His bottle like treasure.

Second, we may let go. We may let go of our right to retaliate at anyone whose sin has contributed to our loneliness. We may need to let go by forgiving others. We may need to let go of our rights and expectations regarding relationships, holidays, and others' treatment of us.  And we may need to let go of our own sinful responses to our loneliness: self-pity, resentment, bitterness, for example. We may need to let go of those things that will only infect our soul's wound and prevent it from healing well and fully.

Third, we may find solace in loving the communion of the saints mentioned in the ancient creed. Have you ever given much thought to that doctrine, beyond your local church fellowship? Prolonged periods of isolation have deepened my understanding of it. God, through the apostle Paul, says, "There is one body and one Spirit--just as you were called to the one hope that belongs to your call--one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all (Ephesians 4:4-6, ESV). Again, in a different letter, God through Paul says, "For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body--Jews or Greeks, slaves or free--and all were made to drink of one Spirit" (1 Corinthians 12:13, ESV). The one body of Christ, then, comprises all  who belong to the Lord through faith, all in whom the Spirit dwells, all who can rightly call God Father. This is not constrained to one location at one point in time. All the children of God through faith in Christ, throughout all the world, throughout all of time, are united in one body, as we will fully realize in the coming eternal kingdom and must take by faith now. The same spiritual blood and breath unite us, and in that regard we are always in spiritual communion with our brother and sister saints, however alone we may be in body.

6 A’s of Prayer

"…in the hope of eternal life that God, who cannot lie, promised before time began."

‭‭Titus‬ ‭1‬:‭2‬ ‭CSB‬‬

American Snout butterfly on lantana

Sometimes in times of trial it's hard to know what to pray. Picking up God's Word and turning to Psalms or the prayers in Paul's letters are a great place to start.

Breath prayers can also help me. I've shared a few of those in the past, like “Abba, Father, as You wish” and “Father of mercies, comfort our afflictions.”

Your Butterfly

 

Make me Your butterfly, O Lord.

Peel back layers and layers and layers

of wormy flesh and wriggling self

through myriad tiny deaths--

surrender and surrender and surrender--

till final entombment of old me

and rebirth with wings--

soaring, soaring, soaring homeward to You.

Fellowship with God in the "Whatever" of Life

Fall asters

And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him (Colossians 3:17, ESV).

When we offer our bodies to God as living sacrifices and offer our work to Him, all our lives becomes worship. The most mundane and even dirty jobs are transfigured into prayer when we do them for the glory of God, in obedience to the commands of Christ, in the power of the Holy Spirit. The heavenly orientation of the heart can find communion with the Lord God Almighty here at the computer where I tap or folding the never-ending laundry or weeding a garden or taking the dog to the vet.

We are often tempted to find our identity in what we do--I surely was when we were missionaries--but the only identity that will never fail or fade or disappoint is our identity as God's beloved children through the death and resurrection of Christ our hope. When we rest securely in His love, our work ceases to be our identity and becomes as fragrant incense ascending in praise to Him.

I call this orientation of the heart the sacrament of the ordinary. A favorite slim volume on Christian living describes it this way:

"Only God Himself can fill that blank which is made in His shape.

If we will yield to this, some of us will have a new outlook on life.

We will have a new zest for life, even in the dreariest surroundings. 

As soon as the emphasis is changed from 'doing' to 'being', there is an easing of tension.

The situations may not change, but we have changed.

If fellowship with God is to be our first concern,

then we can have fellowship with God

in the kitchen, in sickness, in any kind of trying and difficult situation.

Whatever lies across our path to be done, even the most irksome chores,

are there to be done for God and for His glory.

Gone will be the further striving, bondage, and frustration.

We shall be at peace with God and ourselves."

~Roy & Revel Hession, We Would See Jesus, 16-17

Beloved Crumbles, may you find glimmers of God and of grace in all your ordinary ways today. May He keep drawing your attention back towards Himself and sweeten your tasks with His presence. May He fill your heart with song and shine the light of His countenance upon you, today and always, in Jesus' name. Amen.