Irony...

I talked with a dear friend for a while last night, catching up a bit, and sharing some of the things I'd been wrestling with lately. It was a teary conversation because of the subject matter, and because some of the things I've been wrestling with and feeling pulled to pray for lately incite a sting within me that brings tears.

I had to laugh, though, at one point, as I looked down at the current book I'm reading, that was sitting beside me as we talked.

I commented to her that it seemed just a bit ironic that in the midst of this rather teary conversation about the places of prayer I've been occupying lately, the title of the book I'm currently reading is "The Happy Intercessor"!

I needed to remember that laugh today, and laugh again. Because laughter at that irony was definitely a better option than tears.

Worth It

I can't go into all the details, but this week has been truly unique in the sorts of conversations I've been having with Jesus. We've done rather a lot of arguing, because some of things he's been asking have been painful, and seemingly worthless, pointless, and invoking of unnecessary trauma and tears.

I had a rough night last night. Dreams and emotions. I'm working hard today not to sob, and fighting a headache that's been present all week but has spiralled into something truly to be reckoned with this morning. The drugs seem to just be starting to touch it, and I'm praying their effect grows. I have a full day ahead of me, and the ability to concentrate on something other than the pain would be helpful.

It's been the sort of week where I've been quietly (and sometimes very loudly) asking the Lord again if all of this is really worth it?

Just now, as I finished a task I'd been praying about and struggling with, the following song from Rita Springer started playing on my ipod. It's one that has a long back-story for me, but let's just say that the timing of the lyrics this morning was particularly poignant (and funny in a way.)

I don't understand Your ways
Oh but I will give You my song
Give You all of my praise
You hold on to all my pain
With it You are pulling me closer
And pulling me into Your ways
Now around every corner
And up every mountain
I'm not looking for crowns
Or the water from fountains
I'm desperate in seeking, frantic believing
That the sight of Your face
Is all that I need
I will say to You
It's gonna be worth it
It's gonna be worth it
It's gonna be worth it all
I believe this
It's gonna be worth it
It's gonna be worth it
It's gonna be worth it all
I believe this
You're gonna be worth it
You're gonna be worth it
You're gonna be worth it all
I believe this
You're gonna be worth it
You're gonna be worth it
You're gonna be worth it all
I believe this

Oh My...

I'm in an odd space this morning (more about that in a post coming shortly), and these two reflections from Henri Nouwen (but particularly the second one) hit my heart deeply.

Empowered to Be

Who are we? Are we what we do? Are we what others say about us? Are we the power we have? It often seems that way in our society. But the Spirit of Jesus given to us reveals our true spiritual identities. The Spirit reveals that we belong not to a world of success, fame, or power but to God. The world enslaves us with fear; the Spirit frees us from that slavery and restores us to the true relationship. That is what Paul means when he says: "All who are guided by the Spirit of God are sons [daughters] of God, for what you received was not the spirit of slavery to bring you back into fear; you received the spirit of adoption, enabling us to cry out, 'Abba, Father!'" (Romans 8:15).

Who are we? We are God's beloved sons and daughters!

Empowered to Call God "Abba"

Calling God "Abba, Father" is different from giving God a familiar name. Calling God "Abba" is entering into the same intimate, fearless, trusting, and empowering relationship with God that Jesus had. That relationship is called Spirit, and that Spirit is given to us by Jesus and enables us to cry out with him, "Abba, Father."

Calling God "Abba, Father" (see Roman 8:15; Galatians 4:6) is a cry of the heart, a prayer welling up from our innermost beings. It has nothing do with naming God but everything to do with claiming God as the source of who we are. This claim does not come from any sudden insight or acquired conviction; it is the claim that the Spirit of Jesus makes in communion with our spirits. It is the claim of love.