When you want to pray. You need to pray. But you just don’t know where to start.
The words don’t come.
Or they sound hollow.
Then there are times when we fall instantly to our knees. Begging. Pleading. Tears blurring our vision.
We cry out to God. Our Father. Our Creator. Healer. Sustainer.
Ever-present help in time of trouble.
There is no mystery in prayer: Father God HEARS.
I believe that one of the reasons He calls Himself Father, is because He wants us to understand the relationship we have with Him is one of authority based on love. He loves us more than any earthly father could.
He wants us to come to Him.
“Come to Me, all of you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:28
Sometimes the most difficult time to pray is when we are grieving. When loss comes, it’s often hard to put into words what we want to say.
And I’m reminded that in the practice of prayer, it is often
Reading God’s Word and listening to Him. Hearing what He has to say. Soaking up His Truth.
He knows, friend. He knows when words don’t come, that it is enough just to sit in His presence.
Maybe, just maybe that’s where He wants us. No requests, no questions, no begging Him to “fix” whatever it is that needs fixing.
Just enjoying His presence. Feeling His comfort, resting in His peace.
No trite promises, no repetitive words. Just the practice of quiet rest. Waiting, listening, abiding.
I will grieve with family this week as we lay to rest the body of a young father, 43 years young. The words of Psalm 73 have been a balm to my soul and the stories that are being posted of my cousins’ conversion to Christ are the only thing that brings hope to a difficult situation. The last time I saw Jason was at the lake a year ago–and these verses remind me of a divine appointment I had with him and the promise that THIS.IS.NOT.THE.END.
What we do with Christ matters. In life and in death.
“But as for me, God’s presence is my good. I have made the Lord God my refuge, so I can tell about all You do.” Psalm 73:28
See you in glory!
Jason Paul Bailey, 43
March 26, 1973–Aug. 5, 2016