Faith Depends on Remembering

Faith Depends on Remembering

Recently our pastor preached a sermon on Psalm 13. It was timely because as I was listening I couldn't help thinking about a single friend of mine who has recently lost her mom. I think what keeps me coming back to the Scriptures over and over, among other things is that fact that the writers of the Scriptures keep it real. There is no candy coating or glossing over the messiness of humanity and God's dealing with us.  

David and the other Psalmists in particular keep it real. I have perused other self-professed holy books and they just don't bring messy to the table like the Bible does. I love the fact that David really tells how he really feels. He says what we all feel at times, "How long O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long must I take counsel in my soul and have sorrow in my heart all the day?" His sense of abandonment is real. His sense of lonliness and isolation is real. And He doesn't follow the recommend formula of praise, adoration, confession, intersession....Nope. Just why are you not answering me? Why don't I feel your presence or see evidence of your working on my behalf?

But his shift comes when he remembers. That is exactly what I fail to do when I am in a crisis of despair. I forget where I have been. There was a reason when God parted the Jordan River for Joshua and his crew that He told them to gather stones of remembrance. Because the first thing we do in a crisis is lose our mind. Literally. Research shows that the affect of Cortisol on the brain, the stress hormone, is that it inhibits the brain's ability to recall stored information, properly process new information, and use critical thinking. 

So it is central to the practice of our Spiritual lives that we look back. In the sense that one does when you have wound your way up a mountain pass and you can look back from the top and see the journey in its entirety that you have just made. The twists and turns of the road made that impossible as you were climbing.  But from the backward glance you can see it clearly, all of it. It's so basic but it merits repeating:  We are not to interpret God's goodness according to our circumstances, but our circumstances according to God's goodness. And when David remembered he could say "I have trusted in your steadfast love...because He has dealt bountifully with me." So I pray to remember, and not forget all the ways and times God has shown up; so when I think He's running late, I can remind myself, just like with a trusted friend, He'll be here soon. He always shows up.

frazzled prayers

So I've been feeling a shift lately in my prayer life. I don't know when it became perceptible to me but I've had glimpses of it over the past two years that would fade back into my old pattern. I think my whole life when I've had the feeling of my life being too complicated and too busy or too stressful, I've felt like the needed response is to go into high gear. I need to try harder, find my A game, come up with new and better solutions to dealing with my weaknesses in order to compensate and make everything work. I guess what I've felt is that the pressure to make my life work, especially when it comes to organizing the details of my life, the complexity of all the roles and tasks and obligations that pull on me. I remember reading a story of Corrie Ten Boom one time from her caretaker Pam Moore. She said that Corrie would be sitting at the table and a problem would arise and she would just say out loud "Lord, take care of it." It seemed to me a bit odd at the time. But I think I'm beginning to get a sense of what it was really beneath that simple prayer. Those who heard her pray said she would just start talking out loud to God even if people were around. It was to her as if He was at the table. They weren't fancy or lengthy or even eloquent prayers. 

Lately I think I get that. My life is too complicated and complex and overwhelming, and its really creating a sinking-into-my-everyday-consciousness-kind of way that apart from Him I can do nothing. I'm not designed to. I'm designed to be connected. To hang with the full weight of my branch from His limb and every source of life and strength and sustenance come from my being connected. Nothing else. So then praying that He works out the logistics of having to be here and then somewhere else and do more than my energy levels and time says I can somehow works--IN HIM. As Colossians says, "In Him all thing [ALL THINGS] hold together." Can that actually mean my house, my car, my budget, my time, my frazzled nerves, my energy? I think it really does. 

So those quick prayers of "God help" that are childlike and real and frazzled aren't my unspiritual dumb moments. They are my most spiritual, my most "I get it" moments. They really are. And asking Him to take care of those things, even the smallest things points to a belief that His greatness is marked as much by the fact that He can oversee and order the most minute details of parking spaces and appointments as well as galaxies and planets. Wow. I'm kind of liking the feeling rather than the rising panic-- of the internal peace that settles in when I lift up those in the moment prayers and feel the weight of the yolk coming off my shoulders as I climb into the harness; one He's already pulling for both of us. His shoulders are broad and strong enough for both of us. More and more I hope that I learn of the yolk that is easy and His burden which is light. Of prayers that cry out without dressing up my fears or desires in acceptable attire. I don't need to. He's my Daddy. He's got it covered.