Today is the last day I’ll be writing The Prayer Blog for Purpose Driven Connection. Last year at this time I knew I would be blogging on this site beginning in January 2009 and had started to write practice posts. I never imagined I could find something to say or write about for almost a year. This is my 264th post.

Posting something five or six days a week is a daunting and wonderful discipline for me. It forces me to pay attention. Terrified friends realize that everything they say or do could appear in some future post! The gift of paying attention helps me to listen, to see, and to perceive more fully. It sharpens my ability to identify the God moments and movements in my life. I don’t need to wait for God to show up. I need to have what Episcopal Bishop Mark MacDonald of Alaska calls “Gospel eyes” –the senses to recognize God’s presence in the people, events, and minutia of my everyday life.

The downside of paying attention is the recognition of my own character defects and weaknesses. Hawk eyes make self-deception harder to pull off. This year I recognized my laziness in prayer, my failure to engage scripture in new ways, and my quick judgments of myself and others. Self-awareness is another gift of my year as a blogger. It gives me much to pray about and work on in 2010.

So with gratitude for you, the reader, and for Purpose Driven Connection, I offer this blessing from Numbers 6:24-26: “The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face to shine upon you, and be gracious to you; the Lord lift up his countenance upon you, and give you peace.”  Thanks  for allowing me to share my prayer life with you in both words and doodles.

May God grant you a joyful and holy 2010.

(For information about Sybil’s books and future blogs visit www.prayingincolor.com) ]]> http://blog.purposedriven.com/prayingincolor/?feed=rss2&p=3330 7 http://blog.purposedriven.com/prayingincolor/?p=3323 http://blog.purposedriven.com/prayingincolor/?p=3323#comments Wed, 30 Dec 2009 11:00:01 +0000 Sybil http://blog.purposedriven.com/prayingincolor/?p=3323 The prayer drawing below includes both intercessions and thanksgivings. Like most years, 2009 has had both blessings and struggles. The drawing includes only thanksgivings and blessings. I don’t want to minimize the struggles or be pollyannaish about their impact. But often I am seduced by struggle as my dance partner when blessing is waiting right there to take my hand. So just for today I relinquish my obsession with struggle and choose to trust blessing.

The drawing looks to me like a giant molecule of gratitude.  I hope it will continue to grow with new cells of thanksgiving.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me.”
(John 14: 1 NIV)

Drawing: Sybil MacBeth

This short prayer includes both praise–”Lord Jesus” or “Loving Jesus” and petition–“Enter my heart.” In his book The Breath of Life: A Simple Way to Pray, Ron DelBene calls this one-line communication with God a breath prayer. The purpose of a breath prayer is to say  it so often that it becomes as natural and unconscious as our breath. It moves us toward the impossible challenge to “pray unceasingly” (1Thessalonians 5:17) and to continually marinate ourselves in God’s presence.

The most famous breath prayer is the Jesus Prayer–”Lord Jesus Christ, son of God, have mercy on me a sinner.” This prayer has been around since the sixth century and might have its origins in Luke 18:13 when the tax collector beats his chest and prays, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.”

I have prayed the Jesus Prayer countless times when no other words would come to me. But Ron helped me to find my own breath prayers. In his book, he teaches readers to find a breath prayer tailor-made for them. “I believe that a personalized prayer which arises from individual need clarifies who I am and thus helps me understand my relationship with God.”

For now my breath prayer is “Loving Jesus, enter my heart.” But the time will come when I will need a new prayer with a new form of praise and a new petition.

Ron’s profound and simple book is available through Amazon.  Click here for a downloadable version.

With all the hustle and bustle of pre-Christmas parties and preparations, I never get to do the things I promise myself. I’ve long ago given up the idea of a perfect Christmas-card Christmas–a foot of snow, our family bundled in a sleigh, the photo-worthy Christmas dinner with happy and polite children surrounding the table, beautifully wrapped presents around a 10-foot tree in an immaculate house,…. But I still fantasize about a perfect spiritual Christmas–reading from the birth narratives daily with the family, singing carols together, spending an hour a day in prayer…. What I managed to do was draw a daily Advent calendar entry and read some seasonally-correct Scripture passages. But it mostly felt chaotic and uncontemplative.

I’ve learned over the years that the twelve days of Christmas (starting on Christmas Day) seem less scheduled and harried than the weeks before December 25. Whether I’m working full-time or not, I can find some day or night sit-down time with a cup of tea, a book, a good view of the Christmas tree and crèche and some Christmas carols playing in the background. So my plan for this week is some unplanned time. I hope I’ll have some quiet prayer time. But my imagined scenario of a spiritual twelve days of Christmas is unlikely. Maybe I’ll finally figure out that Jesus came into a broken world to save me, not to give me a reason to create a perfect holiday celebration–material or spiritual.

Photo: Sybil MacBeth

Drawing: Sybil MacBeth

Drawings: Sybil MacBeth

Thanks to Cindy O. for piecing and scanning the final calendar. Check out her Advent Calendar on Mostly Markers.

I’ve done some cooking for groups this week–an intimate meal of stew for six last Friday and a staff party of chicken lasagna for twenty-two yesterday. Both preparations involved lots of chopping, browning, and assembling. Between crashing around in a warm kitchen with pots and knives and listening to Christmas music on the radio, I like this sort of feast-making in December. It makes me feel like I’m creating my own version of a Norman Rockwell winter. It also puts me in touch with Christmases past–real and imagined.

Yesterday, I had a huge epiphany. I have always thought I had a better handle on cooking for crowds than my mother did.  She worried about the details–whether the napkins were ironed, the kitchen door was closed so guests could not see the messy preparation, the salads were meticulously arranged on her best china plates,….

I brag that “She entertained, but I have people over.” I confess to feeling superior. My laid-back version of cooking and having friends hang out in the kitchen feels more authentic than her formal, showy dinner parties. But what struck me yesterday was that although I didn’t catch on to her fancy, sometimes frazzled way of entertaining, she taught me about hospitality. A rare weekend went by without people in my parents’ house for dinner or games. My mothers’ friends were important to her and she wanted to honor them and make them feel comfortable in her home.

For years I’ve thought my mother and I were from different planets. We disagreed about lots of things. But the Christmas gift I received this week is a deep, almost pregnant knowing that the most important things in my life (and hers) were given to me by my mother–dance, art, hospitality, home, and a relationship with God. Why we always clashed in those areas was strictly a difference in style. We loved the same things but expressed our love differently. We were just from different neighborhoods, not different planets.

I want to rush to the phone and tell her what I learned this week, to thank her for those gifts, and maybe even talk, instead of argue, about our different styles of drawing, feeding friends, and worshiping God. The phone call is not possible. But I think as she celebrates the birth of Jesus from her heavenly vantage point, she knows and smiles about my Christmas epiphany.

In my imagination “winter people” are contemplative and mysterious. They like to hunker down in front of a fire with books and tea and ponder the secrets of God and the universe. For me, this is mostly fantasy. In reality, winter emphasizes my moodiness and self-indulgence. I can slip from prayer and contemplation into self-pity with one sip of Earl Grey.

So the waiting time in the dark days before Christmas emphasizes my need for a savior. Do not let me stay in the darkness of my fallen heart, Lord. Come quickly, Jesus, come quickly and save me.

The four lighted candles on the Advent wreath and five empty circles left on the calendar indicate the nearness of Christmas.

Drawing and Photo: Sybil MacBeth