My Heavenly Father,
Just being able to call You Father is a sign of Your grace. It shows how You have adopted me, through Christ, into the Family. How I have been “delivered from the domain of darkness and transferred into the kingdom of [Your] beloved Son, in Whom [I] have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.” In this “great exchange” I receive a new identity. My life is hid in Christ in God, meaning that the unending, unfailing, inexhaustible love that You have for the Son, You now have for me. How beautiful. I’m just amazed that the God of the universe has made it possible to be close enough to call Him “Abba, Father.”
With the psalmist, I ask that You hear my prayer. As Christ stands in my defense, I have confidence that You not only listen, but enjoy and take pleasure in the voices of Your needy children. We are body and soul, and I think I do well in focusing on disciplining the physical body. Eating, drinking, sleeping, exercising, and so on are all necessary and “feed” the physical. But You made us body and soul. Not that we are compartmentalized or anything, but these two come together in a synergistic way that makes me who I am. However, they are nourished (or neglected) in different ways. Jesus, You said “I am the bread of life, whoever comes to me shall not hunger, whoever believes in me shall never thirst.” In Jeremiah 2:13, a beautiful picture of You is painted as the “fountain of living waters.” And when You said “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God,” I believe You were speaking of our souls. There is a constant longing within me to know You more. Sometimes it is strong, and often it is weak – but it is always there. To neglect this God-given desire is to ultimately neglect ourselves, since our body and soul seem to be infused. It’s easy for me to only focus on the physical and allow the spiritual to feed off of the leftovers. But I think this leads me to a point where I can say with the psalmist “my heart is faint.” The essence of my being, the force that drives the physical, is weak. It needs food. It needs You, Lord. “Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.” Well up this passion within me to know and cherish You, and grant me the grace and discipline to feed this desire. May the Word become to me as fulfilling and necessary as a cold cup of water after a long run on a hot day. May prayer be a pleasing and desirable aroma to my soul like a Sunday roast that you can smell before you even enter the house. Fill me Lord, from the inside out, so that I will “ever sing praises to Your name, as I perform my vows day after day.”
I’m thankful that Your Word is living and active, and that the same Holy Spirit who provided the words therein, lives inside me to help apply them. It’s amazing how a verse can be read over a hundred times and not get the slightest recognition from the reader, but on the 101st reading, You may speak directly to their heart with that same verse. I feel like that today with the parable of the sower. Every time I’ve read it in the past, I’ve thought of how this relates to others (explaining how some seemingly “fall away,” or how the ways of the world stunted someone’s growth, etc). But You gave me the Holy Spirit to sanctify me, and so I must listen. And today I hear the warning of the seed that fell among the thorns. Lord, I see how it would be possible for this to be me. To allow the “cares of the world” to choke out my growth. When I think of “cares of the world” I see it as seeking to please man over seeking Your glory. The scary thing is this type of living may not always be noticeable. It may look good. It may look churchy. But its end is deadly. And when I think about not living for the approval of others, it really seems like an impossible task – because it is! This takes me back to what I was praying about earlier – how I tend to focus on the physical first, and leave what’s left for the spiritual. People see the physical, so my tendency is to make that look good/in order/holy/etc., even if it means misrepresenting my soul – which is just wearing a mask. Wow. That’s what characterized my life before Christ. Lord, let me be transparent. It’s hard to be authentic in this world, so I ask that Your power be made perfect in my weakness. I ask that You give me a Holy-Spirit empowered ability to humbly live for You. That You would work in me a bigger view of You and Your grace, which will lead to a relentless pursuit of You, and not man. Dig Your truths deep down within my heart into good, Spirit-softened soil.
Thank You Father for the grace which sustains me, the love which upholds me, and the hope which spurs me on.
Amen.
