November 20, 2009
“For in him we live and move and have our being.”
This passage from Acts 17 (NIV) has been a favorite prayer of mine for a long time. When I say it over and over, it reminds me of my real home–a place without a physical address, a residence in the arms of God.
I’ve become a big fan of the “Thought for the Day” basket at our local Y. I see it when I walk into the building and when I leave. Even if I don’t take one of the colorful 1″x 2″ paper offerings, the basket itself reminds me to pray. It’s a visual prod.
Today I grabbed the dark red piece of paper below. I read it as I walked across the street to my car. Its message seemed fitting as I begin a new ministry of blogging about prayer.
Every Sunday I notice how other people in church can stand and sing without ever moving their bodies. I’m constantly moving. I sway side to side and bob back and forth. I used to think it was a character defect, a sign of my spiritual and emotional immaturity. Now I’m a little more forgiving of myself. I’ve decided that swaying and bobbing is how my mind and body download information.
When I move, I focus better. My body is no longer a distraction, but a participant in learning and prayer. In various translations of Psalm 35:10, the Psalmist says, “My whole being, all my bones, all my limbs exclaim, ‘Who is like you, O Lord?’” So I will let my whole being, my bones, and my limbs participate in Sunday worship. I hope the physical movement that helps me to concentrate is not a disruption to those around me.
Patience is a virtue, but not one of mine. I like to cram many activities and tasks into a single day. It gives me the illusion of productivity. On occasion productivity even happens in the midst of those short, scattered events. But woe to the traffic light, shopping line, or train that interrupts the pace of movement from one event to the next on my agenda. I don’t get overtly angry; I just grumble and stew. I know it’s not a sign of spiritual health.
In Memphis, the major east/west train route parallels one of the major roads. The track and the road are within spitting distant of each other. Many times during the day traffic is stopped because of a long freight train. Waiting for trains is not on my agenda, but I’ve learned to say the Serenity Prayer: “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” I say it until I feel serene and the train has passed.
Yesterday, a friend told me of her strategy for train waiting. “Bless each car as it goes by.” What a great idea! It moves the focus of waiting from a petty sense of personal inconvenience to a blessing and thanksgiving for the communal mission of the train in its service to many. So “Thanks BNSF, CSX, NS, UP…” and “Godspeed.”
Photos: Sybil MacBeth
At our local YMCA, there is a basket in the entry way entitled “Thought for the Day.” In it, there are little slips of paper in fluorescent colors. On my way out today, I chose a bright yellow one.
Now this wasn’t exactly the cheery, feel-good, “top-of-the-morning to you” message I was expecting. Sacrificial love? At 8 in the morning? I think I can grasp the sacrificial love of Jesus on the cross. I think I can appreciate the sacrifices of a God who over and over again perfectly loves us and rarely gets much payback for that love. But how can a mere mortal like me begin to live a life of sacrificial love? Then I felt the punch of a God-incidence right in my gut.
Twenty minutes earlier on the basketball court, my husband and I were shooting baskets. It was a good morning for me; I was sinking shots right and left. Right after a beautiful three-pointer, he releases his shot and makes an earnest and tender plea, “Do you think you could stay off the computer after 6:00 PM every day? I want us to spend more time together.” I was shocked. I know I spend too much time online. But to go without the computer for the whole evening? What if a really important e-mail arrives? What if I miss a late-breaking post from a Facebook friend? What about playing Scramble and Scrabble?
What my husband is asking from me is sacrificial love. I realize that compared to what Jesus did, this is small potatoes, nano-significant. But it’s what I’ve been asked to do. I’ll try; I’ll try hard. And I’ll pray over and over, “O Lord, let mine be a life of sacrificial love.”
Praying in Color: Drawing a New Path to God combines memoir with theology. Step-by step instructions introduce the practice of praying in color as a way to do intercessory prayer.
© 2009. The Reader's Digest Association, Inc.
