A few nights ago, we took our kids to their new favorite park in one of the nicer areas of Charleston. The homes are big and immaculate; the park is expansive with gorgeous trees; and the neighborhood kids appear to have free rein to walk, ride bikes, and drive golf carts in the busy streets unsupervised. Every home seemed to be in the process of setting out amazing Halloween decorations. My husband and I joked that it was like walking onto the set of a fall Hart of Dixie or Gilmore Girls episode, except that in those shows the homes are owned by the most ordinary of workers and these homes likely are not.
I’ve got to admit: as I was walking through the neighborhood, visually feasting on the fruit of capitalistic success, I began to rethink life decisions in the way one does when something desirable-but-out-of-reach is dangled in front of them. We have been neck deep in the stressful process of selling our home and buying a nice but dated home in need of an intimidating renovation (we are lucky to get it!), and I went to bed exhausted and woke up stressed because I felt like I had missed my ticket to the “good life.”
The next morning when my husband took the boys out so I could work, I knew from my grumpiness that my heart was a little sick. I decided to put my work aside for a bit because I was in need of re-centering prayer.
Prayer, like most relational acts, is sometimes an act of perseverance . . . one where I have to keep showing up expectantly even if it seems like it is going nowhere. I had been praying for peace about our move all week and felt like a crazy person throwing words at an indifferent sky, but Saturday was different. Saturday was the kind of day where prayer was transformational.
What do I mean?
Through prayer, I was able to see that the rosy path I didn’t take to “the good life” was a mirage, one meant to dissatisfy me with my current blessings and divert my eyes and energy toward things that will rot me from the core. I was reminded that I serve a God who owns the cattle on a thousand hills (Psalm 50:10) and abundantly provides me with exactly what I need for my personal journey, and I was able to remember that – because of this – I have the privilege of being a giver, not a climber. I do not have to waste my energy on selfish ambition but instead can enjoy and share the feast set before me, trusting God to provide me with every good thing. God reminded me not to look with lust on the life he gave to others, but instead to stay focused on the path designed specifically for me.
And this is why I pray.
Without prayer, I am easily distracted. I walk the path of the people I am surrounded by, I dance to the beat of the noisy world around me, and I forget that I have the privilege of walking a personal path and dancing to a song sung just for me. I start saying what other people say and wanting what other people want and doing what other people do, and I trade my ability to be a world-changer and a leader in my own small sphere for the fleeting pleasures of material gain.
Prayer is truly the difference for me between living a life on mission for others and chasing the wind in pursuit of self. If you spend much time around me, you can tell when I have been diligent in this discipline and when I have not been.
If personal prayer is not something you are comfortable with, can I encourage you in it today?
You don’t have to do anything spectacular or ritualistic or otherwise strange. All you have to do is show up, recognize that there is a God other than you, and open up your heart. I write my prayers to keep my mind present, but you don’t have to do that. Just call out in humility and expectation, and keep doing it. Day after day, even when it feels crazy. God is faithful and will meet you in a way that you can hear.
Blessings to you,
Melissa
Darlene says
God used Darey’s message this morning and your blog post to convict me of some “stinking thinking” I’ve had in my life lately. I’m blessed so much more than I deserve!