My Fearful Prayers (Heart Stuff pt. 14)

Ps. 37:4 Delight yourself in the LORD; And He will give you the desires of your heart.

Sometimes, when I go to pray, I get terrified. (Shhhhhh, don’t tell anyone I said that…cause, that is so not the right church answer.)

The Bible says that God will give me the desires of my heart. Ask, seek, knock…Cast all your anxiety… all that jazz. The sparkly flashy conference teachers tell me the same thing. There are hundreds of books out there too, encouraging me to find my dream and dare to go for it, to find the extraordinary life and adventure that surely God wants me to have.

(Cynical response arriving in 3,2,1…)

So, what if I spend a good bit of time and come up with the deepest, truest desire of my heart. The thing I think I’m wired for, the thing I think God put me here on earth to do, be or accomplish, the thing that I am more passionate about and long for more than almost anything. And I take the chance and bring it to the Lord in prayer. Putting my very heart out there for Him to do with as He pleases.

And God says “No.”

I could give all the correct theological answers about God’s sovereignty. I could work my way through a maze of complicating variables like, “Was it God’s will? Was I delighting in Him first? Will this now work out for my greater good in the long run? Does God have other plans at play that I don’t know about, that if I knew about, I’d be ok with His ‘no’?”

But at the end of the day, I took a chance, opened a very deep, tender and personal place in my heart to Him – and He rejected it. And by extension, rejected me. Was what I wanted so wrong? If my prayer came from an authentically honest place in my heart and it wasn’t God’s will for my life, what does that say about me? 

And then, I feel rejected and heartbroken by someone who was supposed to be trustworthy. As a result, in order to avoid this very painful experience, sometimes I take a very unhealthy, but safe strategy in my dealings with Him. I small talk with God.

Oh my German readers, those masters of the meaningful conversation, I’m sure you are laughing your head off at the shallow American. I can’t stop small talking even with the Creator of the universe at the other side of the coffee table, when surely I have better things to talk about with Him than “keep me safe, keep my kids safe, bless this food to our bodies, etc”

And the sad part of this is that I do have more important things to talk with Him about. Really important things. Things that are killing me, breaking my heart, threatening to do serious damage to my life. But I’m so afraid of being rejected that I’m afraid to put them on the table. My fear of the emotional impact and significance of a ‘no’ sometimes overrides my longing for true relationship with my Savior, Comforter, Redeemer, Friend.

I’m working through how to reconcile this in my mind, heart and prayer life. A God who is ultimately trustworthy (I know this) who always acts in my best interests, who loves me more than I could ever imagine…and there are days I find myself terrified of Him.

Thoughts On Job – Be Afraid. Be Very Afraid.

“But he stands alone, and who can oppose him? He does whatever he pleases. He carries out his decree against me, and many such plans he still has in store. That is why I am terrified before him; when I think of all this, I fear him. God has made my heart faint; the Almighty has terrified me.” Job 23:13-15

Job, I am with you on this. God scares the bejeebies out of me too. 

How to relate to a God who holds all the power, meaning I am utterly helpless before Him? Who is under no obligation to explain Himself or His plans to me? Who has demonstrated that there are times when He chooses not to intervene and allows really, really bad things to happen? Even to those He says He loves? To Job? To me?

Years ago, while driving in the car, we heard our 5-year-old son in the backseat start crying. When we asked him what was wrong he said, “I’m afraid. I’m afraid of God. He’s going to eat me.”

Context: we had recently been talking a lot with him about how big God is, about how powerful He is, about how omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent…you get the picture. And my little theologian did the math and figured out that a really really big God like that meant he was really really small. So he was afraid. Very afraid.

Fortunately for us, our 4-year-old daughter was also in the car at the time and she just laughed. “Jeffrey,” she said, “God’s not going to eat you. He’s good.” Out of the mouths of babes.

Yes, we all know God is good. But some days the words of Job and my son speak something very deep and true from my heart – I’m afraid that God is going to eat me. I am afraid of God. There, I said it. 

Not exactly the Sunday School answer you were expecting, huh? In fact, I’m pretty sure I’ve got teeth marks in my backside from whole seasons of my life where He’s nibbled and chewed on me pretty good. And there are times when what I feel overpowers what I know…when my circumstances scream contrary things to what my faith whispers… When my God is absolutely terrifying. And my heart is faint within me.

No wonder God says over and over again, “Fear not.” “Do not be afraid.” “Be strong and courageous.” Of course our natural reaction to Him should contain a good dose of healthy fear. Respect. Worship. He’s in charge. We are not. That is the beautiful order of things. I get it.

But the real question, the one I’m wrestling with, is how do I take commands like that – that sound so easy in theory and make for really pretty  songs to sing on Sunday - and let them actually comfort my broken, fearful heart the rest of the week?

How do I learn to love a God who makes me tremble?

What Are We So Afraid Of? (Heart Stuff pt. 7)

“I don’t cry very often.” “I’m not very emotional.” ” I am not the crying type of person.”  ”Even if sometimes I might want to, I still don’t cry.”

I took this photo in Oslo this past summer, at the sight of mourning for the victims of the mass shooting there. We are compelled to express what we feel inside of us.

 

I have heard these thoughts and the related heart cry that undergirds them at least 3 different times within a week of this writing, and many more in recent months, from women ages 19 – 40ish, and in various stages of life. FYI to any guys brave enough to read this blog: I hear this sentiment from women, not men. We are not always these uncontrolled emotional messes who cry at the drop of the hat. More of us than you would ever guess struggle with the healthy expression of pent-up emotion.

Full disclosure – I’ve also been this woman and spoken most of those words at some time or another in some form or another during my adult life.

Where does this aversion to tears come from? What are we so afraid of? And why do we, in some weird, strange way think that crying equals weakness?

Certainly God created us with different temperament types, some more outwardly emotional than others – and He placed each of us in different cultures and periods of history where the accepted expressions of emotion differ. I’m not saying we need to be in puddles of tears, weeping at the slightest thing. (That is another extreme that would indicate something is significantly wrong.)

God didn’t make us Vulcans however. Whether we like it or not, whether we are comfortable with it or not, He created us with emotions, powerful emotions, and He gave us the capacity to express them. They are a wonderful gift when they provide a release of the tension inside of us. They bond us to others at such a deeper level than our intellect allows. More than that, they indicate important things to us about our spiritual health – if we are tuned in to them that is. Joy points to a Creator. Grief points to the life after this one. Love demonstrates God’s fingerprints on our relationships. Sorrow can drive us to a Comforter. Shame indicates that something of the image of God in us has been violated. Our emotions are an intricate part of our design, beautiful and important. When we voluntarily neglect them, surely we break the heart of our emotional God who meant them as a gift.

Why then do so many hate to cry? Some might say it is a control issue – that they aren’t subject to their feelings. They might even take a bit of pride in the fact that they aren’t ‘weak’ like those other emotional folk out there. Some might think that they don’t really need to – that somehow they respond differently to their life experience and manage their pain intellectually, not emotionally.

What I’m finding however is that this isn’t something to be proud of. In fact, it is probably an indication that something is wrong. Very wrong. Because a lack of tears isn’t an indication of a lack of emotion. Oh no! There is almost certainly something going on under the surface. And not always, but sometimes, it is something so significant that the person is afraid to let it out. I’m finding that not crying doesn’t equal emotional strength, but sometimes it is emotional fear. It is an indication that all that emotion inside, that we all have, is bottlenecked and stuck where it doesn’t belong. And unexpressed emotion rots pretty quickly, becoming fertile ground for bitterness, internal lies and relational damage.

So I find myself asking some odd questions, ones I never would have thought my intellectual self would ever ask… “How can I learn to become more emotional, more open to expressing what is actually in my heart, no matter how I try to deny it? That will destroy my heart if I leave it trapped inside? How can I begin exploring some of the dark recesses of my heart, looking for some of the things that need sunshine and fresh air in order to heal properly? How can I, in a healthy way, learn to reflect this part of God’s image in me?”

What Are You So Afraid Of?

Proverbs 15:31 He who listens to a life-giving rebuke will be at home among the wise.

“Worry is a cycle of inefficient thoughts whirling around a center of fear.” Corrie ten Boom

I wrote previously about a great conversation I had with a friend who challenged me on my tendency to repeat cycling through the same topics without making progress. I also had a friend ask me recently, “What are you so afraid of?”

This question caught me off guard. I hadn’t realized just how many of my actions were motivated by fear. Or how obvious it was to those around me. Right after this conversation and  question, I sat down with God, my Bible and a journal to answer it. In a moment of soul-baring honesty, I just started writing – and this is what came bubbling out.

Fear of the future. Fear of “what if…” Fear of the unknown. Fear that I’m dreaming the wrong dream or that I’m dreaming too big. Fear that people will laugh at me (particularly because of the dreams I have). Fear of a wasted life. Fear of God not loving me enough or not being able or willing to step in on my behalf. Fear that I am not good enough, strong enough or smart enough to do the things I’m called to do. Fear that I am hearing God’s voice in my life wrongly.  Fear that the best part of my life is past and the future is downhill. Fear that I won’t get to do the things I love to do and feel like I was created to do. Fear that I really am as insignificant and unimportant as I often think I am. Fear that God doesn’t really love me like He says He does but puts up with me because He has to. Fear that as a teacher and writer I’m wearing the emperor’s invisible clothing – thinking what I do is beautiful and useful but in actuality, those around me are laughing.

And unfortunately, my list of fears could go on and on. Some days I really am quite a big mess. I needed a good question and a deep conversation to stop me in my tracks, to wake me up to a spiritual limp that was crippling my forward progress. I needed some time with my Jesus to show me that:

“There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears in not made perfect in love.” I John 4:18

God has promised that He will never leave of forsake me, that He will be with me wherever I go,  that I will never fall out of His hand, that He intends good, not harm for me, that if I delight myself in Him, He will give me the desires of my heart. (Joshua 1:5 and 9, John 10:31, Jer. 29:11, Ps. 37:4) Part of being a child of God means that I believe my Dad when He speaks.

I know these things in my head – it’s just that some days, when I’m tired, confused or discouraged, it takes them a while to travel to my heart.

Which is why I need friends who engage me on big and important ideas. Great conversation breathes life to my soul. I am so grateful when someone knows me well enough and  loves me deeply enough to speak truth (gently, gently…) in such a way that something inside of me shakes loose. No one knows how much gunk is between their teeth until they floss. Whether  it is dental or spiritual, denial sets us up for much bigger problems later. I’m so thankful for friends who are brave enough to ask thought-provoking, heart-rattling questions. And  a God who speaks clearly when I settle down to listen.

My takeaway was two-fold:

1. I need to cultivate those relationships that breathe life into me. I need to look for those people who recognize truth, but also have the wisdom to wield it well.

2. I need to live as if I believe the truth that as a child of God, I am indeed safe in His will for my life and that His plans for me are good.