Some things I don’t want to do: laundry, clean bathrooms, make phone calls to schedule doctor appointments. I just don’t want to do them.
As grown-up responsible adults, we resolve and accept that we have to do the things we don’t want to do. Our want-to can’t drive our decisions within the day. Oh, if only they could: I’d eat pizza and double-stuffed Oreos for lunch every day and binge ridiculously on “Call the Midwife” and “Fixer Upper.”
But truly, my friend, how dare we admit we don’t want to pray. Really. Prayer is the good girl thing to do. Prayer is the needed thing to do. Prayer is what we are told to do in 1 Thessalonians 5:17 (pray without ceasing). So, I pull out my journal, make a plan, and start down through my prayer list. Falling asleep mid-prayer. Trudging unaffected through world and church needs. Going through the motions.
Granted, spiritual disciplines at times require an act of the will. Praying when we don’t want to. Sharing Jesus when we are scared. Obeying Him when we’d rather choose the most selfish, immediate-gratifying option.
Honestly, shouldn’t prayer be one of those should-dos that the majority of time is a delightful connection with God? One that fuels and invigorates. One that lifts my head, giving perspective to all other things. One thing that I am drawn to do despite how I feel.
When my prayer want-to runs out, there’s a pivotal nucleus of truth that reignites and rejuvenates. That centers me into the core of the motivational pull to pray in the first place. One thing that really changes everything:
I need to remember who I am talking to.
I need to remember who He is. Remember that He parted the Red Sea. Remember that He sets the moon and stars in their place. Remember that He makes the barren women birth life. Remember that He sent His son to die and set me free. Remember that He crafted me in my mother’s womb, taking great care in the details then and in the details of my life now.
But, I forget. It’s so sad that I forget.
I UNDERestimate who He is and OVERestimate who I am.
I forget and think I can handle it. I forget and surmise that I don’t need Him. I forget and believe I can figure it out. I forget and embrace the untruth that He doesn’t know what’s best for me.
I completely forget who I am talking to: the King of kings, the Lord of lords, the majestic and powerful Creator of the universe, the lover of my soul, the faithful, patient, gracious Shepherd of my heart. Him. My Father. Who loves me so. And, loves you too.
Let’s remember to remember today. And as we do, we will be drawn to connect with Him in prayer and have our prayer want-to refueled.
Join me in the weeks to come as we unpack this topic of prayer.