Depth Through Discipline, Part 4: Prayer

Confession: I don’t exactly understand why we should pray. I don’t understand how a God who is omnipotent, omniscient and omnipresent can be influenced by the feeble requests of a weak, limited and self-centered human. I mean, if God is truly sovereign, and I believe He is, then won’t He accomplish His will with or without me?

 

I have listened to countless sermons on prayer. I have studied prayer in the Bible. I have read hundreds of books addressing prayer in one way or another. My understanding has evolved over the last several decades—sometimes I have received some minor illumination or insight—but, mostly, I still don’t really get it.

Being a Christian most of my life, I have always loved and trusted God. Some of my earliest memories include me, as a preschooler, reciting memorized prayers for my mom’s hairdresser at the beauty shop. I used to keep my rosary on the windowsill next to my bed, so I could pray before I slept. As a 15-year-old, I remember lying face-down on my bedroom floor weeping, begging God not to take my mom after she had her first heart attack.

In college, I was bold and zealous in my faith and asked God to help me evangelize my entire campus. I cried out for lost souls of friends and family who did not know the Truth. And also, I asked for good parking spots and good grades on exams and guidance through various romantic relationships.

In the early 90s, I received a deluge of teaching on the promises and provisions of God available to me, and my ability to receive those things through faith and verbal agreement with His Word. I believed, quite literally, what Jesus said in Mark 11,

“Have faith in God. I tell you the truth, you can say to this mountain, ‘May you be lifted up and thrown into the sea,’ and it will happen. But you must really believe it will happen and have no doubt in your heart. I tell you, you can pray for anything, and if you believe that you’ve received it, it will be yours.”

I stood in faith and confessed and declared and agreed with everything I saw in the Bible as God’s promise to me. It wouldn’t have surprised me one bit if God and I moved a giant landmass with my faith and His power. After all, I can have anything (ANYTHING!) I ask for, if I believe in faith!

And then, I buried my first-born child.

This single incident propelled me into the pit of grief and despair, and caused me to question everything I had ever believed about God. I felt abandoned by Him and disillusioned by the concepts of trust and faith and prayer.

He was the only One who could have saved Noah, and instead, He sat back and watched, while doctors frantically worked and I screamed and cried and prayed and confessed and declared…

MOVE, MOUNTAIN!!!!!!! MOVE!!!!!!!!!!

Why won’t it move?

After all my years of faithful service to God, after all the months of endless praying, after all the times of public declaration of His power in my life, God failed to grant me the one request that meant the most to me.

What was I supposed to do with that? How in the world was I supposed to approach a God who seemingly gives me good parking spots at the mall, but refuses to heal my baby?

I didn’t know Him.

I couldn’t trust Him.

God didn’t care.

Prayer didn’t work.

That was June, 1998—exactly seventeen years ago. And I’ve been rebuilding my relationship with God from that point ever since.

God and I have made tremendous progress (I say that tongue-in-cheek, because it’s only me who needed to progress). I’ve danced in the periphery and delved into Biblical concepts and ideas that didn’t require me to rip open open that wound again. God has been very patient with me.

Of all the scriptures on prayer, this one has been my mantra:

One of the men in the crowd spoke up and said, “Teacher, I brought my son so you could heal him….Have mercy on us and help us, if you can.”

“What do you mean, ‘If I can’?” Jesus asked. “Anything is possible if a person believes.”

The father instantly cried out, “I do believe, but help me overcome my unbelief!”

~Mark 9:17-24~

I do believe. Help me overcome my unbelief.

Yes. That.

Whenever someone asks me to pray for them, I utter those words:

I do believe. Help me overcome my unbelief.

As I pray for my children:

I do believe. Help me overcome my unbelief.

As I pray for the wounded, hurting and sick:

I do believe. Help me overcome my unbelief.

Sometimes I say it all in one breath, mushed together:

Idobelievehelpmeovercomemyunbelief

When I began 2015 with the intent to gain Depth Through Discipline, I knew prayer would be on the agenda. What I didn’t know is that it would take me three solid months of focusing on this discipline alone before God would release me to move on.

I’ll tell you where I started and where I am today in Part 5.

For Part 3 click here