A Prayer for Repenting of My Critical Spirit and Selective Compassion

By Scotty Smith:

  

You, therefore, have no excuse, you who pass judgment on someone else, for at whatever point you judge another, you are condemning yourself, because you who pass judgment do the same things. Now we know that God’s judgment against those who do such things is based on truth. So when you, a mere human being, pass judgment on them and yet do the same things, do you think you will escape God’s judgment? Or do you show contempt for the riches of his kindness, forbearance and patience, not realizing that God’s kindness is intended to lead you to repentance? Rom. 2:1-4 (NIV)

Dear heavenly Father, I feel “busted” and beloved at the same time this morning. The call to love others as Jesus loves me keeps driving me to you for more grace and for more power of the gospel. Meditating on this passage has convicted me about being way too selective in my love. I hoard the riches of your grace and withhold them from people desperate for your kindness. I’m not an equal opportunity dispenser of your mercy and compassion.

Father, I am quick to shower the riches of your kindness, tolerance, and patience on people whose brokenness, struggles, and issues are similar to mine. But I can be condescending and judgmental toward people whose weaknesses inconvenience, annoy, or offend me. Forgive and free me, Father. This attitude blatantly contradicts the gospel.

Father, it’s your kindness that leads me to repent today. I own my political-persuasion, theological-family, life-choice orientation, and personality-profile arrogance. I’m a mess, Lord, in need of a bigger, freer heart.

Jesus, you took the judgment I deserve on the cross—the fullness of God’s righteous wrath toward my sin; and now you love me with the fullness of compassion, acceptance, and delight. The greatest non sequitur in life happens when I withhold the same from others—whoever they are.  Deepen my repentance and deepen my compassion for fellow broken image-bearers of God. So very Amen I pray, in your righteous and loving name. 

http://blogs.thegospelcoalition.org/scottysmith/2015/08/16/a-prayer-for-repenting-of-my-critical-spirit-and-selective-compassion/

A Prayer for Bringing Broken Friends and Stories to Jesus

Scotty Smith has a blog and book of beautiful and honest prayers.  It is a great way to start the day.  Keep the book in your car and read a prayer at a traffic light or before you leave for work.  Keep the website pulled up and read a prayer in the morning.  It will be transforming.

This is one from a few days ago:

Some men came, bringing to him a paralyzed man, carried by four of them. Since they could not get him to Jesus because of the crowd, they made an opening in the roof above Jesus by digging through it and then lowered the mat the man was lying on. When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralyzed man, “Son, your sins are forgiven.”  Mark 2:3-5

Dear Lord Jesus, after sitting with a mom in crisis yesterday, I woke up this morning hurting for friends whose lives are marked by chronic illnesses—those with mental and emotional illnesses in particular. I come, very much in the spirit of this text, bringing you both the sufferers and the caregivers, confident of your great compassion.

Jesus, I cry out to you on behalf of the sufferers—these precious men and women whose capacity to think and feel is painfully distorted—those who are in early and later stages of dementia and Alzheimer’s. And I pray for those who suffer with various degrees of depression—from clinical to post-partum blues to bouts of paralyzing melancholia. And I pray for friends trying to make sense of hard providences and your promises—those who wonder how you can be good, when life is so hard.

I pray for those unable to grieve losses and betrayals in a healthy way. I pray for those who live in the angry vortex of despair and hopelessness—generated by old and new wounds. I pray for those whose war with self-contempt makes death, or at least self-harm, look like a good—even the only way out. You know the names and the details, and you alone have the grace.

Jesus, I know you are merciful and I know you are mighty. Only you know what’s going on in each story and heart. It’s not always easy to discern what’s physiological, psychological, demonic, or just the absence of vital relationship with you. As friends and caregivers, give us what we need to love and to serve these broken ones well.

When we’re fearful and confused, when we are fed up and used up, give us all the wisdom, compassion, and faith to love well. Jesus, it’s these kinds of sufferings that me wish for miracles on demand.

How we long for the Day when every form of brokenness will give way to the endless joys of spiritual, physical, mental, and emotional health. So very Amen I pray, in your holy and healing name.

Leading me to humility, not to humiliation.

A Prayer about the Ultimate Insanity of Despising God’s Kindness

by Scotty Smith

     Do you show contempt for the riches of his kindness, forbearance and patience, not realizing that God’s kindness is intended to lead you to repentance? Rom. 2:4 

Heavenly Father, I’ve seen many crazy things in my life and I’ve certainly done my share of crazy things. But the most certifiably insane thing I do is to show contempt for the riches of your kindness, tolerance, and patience for me in Jesus. I do this when I dig my heels in and resist following your kindness into fresh repentance.

 

When I refuse to humble myself—when I won’t acknowledge the ways I love poorly and act out immaturely—when I hold on to attitudes and actions that rob me of joy, and you of glory, that is insanity. Showing contempt for your kindness is quintessential and ultimate craziness!

 

Father, I praise you today for being undaunted—for being immeasurably affluent in the currency of kindness, tolerance, and patience. There’s no economic downturn in heaven—never has been, never will be. But there’s nothing in me that assumes the right to any of your loving ways. It’s only because Jesus willingly endured the judgment we deserve that I’m in a position to be dealt with so mercifully and graciously.

 

Father, thank you that you’re leading me to humility, not to humiliation; to shelter, not to shame; to repentance, not to penance. Indeed, the GPS of the gospel will never direct us to a destination of harm, but only to a place of greater freedom in Christ; for when we repent, we’re not the one making promises to change our hearts—you are. Only you can change us, and you are changing us, for you’ve covenanted to do so. That’s what the gospel is all about. When we repent, we simply collapse upon Jesus, once again, as our righteousness, our holiness, and our sure hope of a new and changed heart.

 

So this morning, kind Father, I repent. I repent of not trusting that you are at work in my current irritating circumstances. I’ve looked at the weaknesses of others more than I’ve kept my eyes fixed on Jesus. It’s been easier to gossip than to pray. I’ve been moping and plotting like an orphan rather than rejoicing and trusting as a beloved son.

     

I’ve been more preoccupied with the ways of broken men than thrilled with the occupied throne of heaven. I’ve acted as though I care more about Jesus’ church than he does. That is certifiably insane. I repent. Because the gospel is true and you are so kind, I repent. So very Amen I pray, in Jesus’ merciful and mighty name.

Pity Party

A Prayer about a Third Kind of Prodigal Son

 by Scotty Smith

 And he arose and came to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him. Luke 15:20 

Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me. Ps. 51:12

Dear heavenly Father, thankfully, I’m not beginning this day in a far away country, derelict and destitute—a re-enactment of the younger son’s plight (Luke 15). Though I’m capable of anything, I’m not filled with shame for squandering an inheritance, and neither am I out in a field feeding somebody else’s pigs. I’m in a comfortable chair, sipping a fresh cup of coffee, surrounded by more than my share of creature comforts. And yet I’m just as much in need of fellowship with you as any of your beloved children.

     

Because the gospel is true, I bring you my busy, not-very-well-focused, somewhat meandering heart. I feel like a third son right now. I’m not struggling with the extremes of either of the sons in Luke 15. I’m not acting out in destructive “fleshy” ways, and I’m not presently throwing myself a self-righteous pity party. I’m just somewhere in between. I still hear and love the wonderful music of the gospel, but I just don’t feel like dancing right now.

     

So, Father, as I come to you today, I take great comfort in knowing that I’ll always find you filled with compassion for me, even when my feelings are not fully engaged with you. As I saunter toward you, you’re always running toward me in Jesus. As I’m glad to see you, you see me from afar and are thrilled at the sighting. I believe this, help my unbelief.

     

When I’m not as inclined to lift my arms in praise to you, your embrace is the most predictable element in my day. You don’t just put your hand on my shoulder; you throw your arms around me in the gospel. And though my love for you wavers, you will shower me with multiple kisses all day long, for you love your children with an everlasting, unwavering love.

     

Because the gospel is true, I’ll seek to live to your glory today, neither by sight nor by my feelings, but by the faith you’ve given me to trust and love you. It’s not my grasp of you but your grasp of me in the gospel that matters the most. It’s not the enjoyment of my peace with you, but the assurance that you’re at peace with me that’s the anchor for my soul. So very Amen I pray, in Jesus’ wonderful and merciful name.

A Prayer for Times When Sufficient Grace Doesn’t Feel Sufficient

From Scotty Smith:

“… There was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, ”My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” 2 Cor. 12:7-9

Dear heavenly Father, the Apostle Paul’s story stirs up my already stirred up heart. Though I’ve experienced the toxic shame of my own failures, the emotional assault of betrayal, the soul-pillaging pain of loss and heart-depleting episodes of depression that make heaven look like my only option… nonetheless, I know myself to be an amateur in anguish, a tenderfoot in trauma, a mere suckling in suffering.

Compared to many sufferers that I know, quite honestly, Lord, you have every right to judge my whines, complaints and moans as those of a spoiled brat. But you are far too merciful and gracious to do so. You take my sin and my pain seriously, so seriously you gave Jesus for me, and I will forever praise you.

But today, I join many of my brothers and sisters, in bringing before you our friends and family members who are in the vortex of chronic suffering—a downward spiral of misery that mocks the notion of your mercy; that calls into question the sufficiency of your grace; that doesn’t make heaven look good, but invisible.

Father, give us your heart for the suffering. Give us wisdom, give us strength, give us kindness. For those whose physical pain is increasingly unbearable, we cry out for the power of Jesus to fall.

Unashamedly, unreservedly, we ask you to bring relief, Father. By the means of supernatural intervention, please calm the nerve endings. By the means of common grace, please give physicians wisdom to know what medications, and what doses, would be best in each situation.

Father, for those who are suffering fresh emotional trauma, and those who are just beginning to deal with heart wounds long since buried, bring the grace, truth and power of the gospel to bear. Help us enter the emotional chaos not as fixers, but as listeners; not as tamers of the whirlwind, but as those who follow Jesus into the storm; not as those who fear our inadequacy, but as those who own our weakness. When our friend’s emotional pain triggers our’s, help us to stay present, focused and caring.

Father, for those who are suffering mental and spiritual anguish—for friends who simultaneously feel like Job and Job’s wife… counting loses and cursing heaven, don’t let us be like “Job’s friends.” Better to sit in awkward silence, than to offer cliché, rules and formulas. Better to be a quiet, living epistle of mercy than to spout Scripture verses like unwrapped band-aids. We believe this, help our unbelief. Free us from timetables and the need to make it better.

Father, when we ourselves begin to ask, “How long, O Lord?” When we wonder, silently and out loud, “How much is too much?” When we begin, or continue to doubt, your mercy and might, make the cross of Jesus clearer and dearer. O, for the Day when Jesus finishes making all things new. So very Amen we pray, in Jesus’ suffering and triumphant name.

Celebrating God’s Disruptive Sovereignty

A Prayer Celebrating God’s Disruptive Sovereignty

Heavenward by Scotty Smith

Remember this, keep it in mind, take it to heart, you rebels. Remember the former things, those of long ago; I am God, and there is no other; I am God, and there is none like me. I make known the end from the beginning, from ancient times, what is still to come. I say: “My purpose will stand, and I will do all that I please.” Isa. 46:8-10

Holy and gracious Father, I offer you no pushback this morning for being addressed as a rebel. I not only rebel against your commandments, I also rebel against your gospel—for it seems too good to be true. That’s why I need a Savior as big as Jesus. My only hope is in knowing that you will complete the good work of salvation you began in me. Your purposes will stand. You do all that you please, and it pleases you to justify, transform and glorify rebels like me… Hallelujah!

Indeed, I have great hope in knowing you are God and I am not. This truth is both disruptive and comforting. Disruptive, because there are some things I’m desperate for you to do—things that make all the sense in the world to me—things that seem in line with the truth of the gospel. But they’re not going to happen. You haven’t decreed them and no amount of fasting and praying will alter the perfection of your plan… Hallelujah!

Yet your sovereignty is profoundly comforting, because there are other things for which I don’t have the faith to trust you—things I cannot imagine coming to pass. Like an ax head floating on water, pebbles taking down a giant, lepers being instantly healed, dead churches becoming gospelicious communities, again… these things happen according to your pleasure and in your timing.

Father, help me “fix it in mind and take it to heart.” You are God and you do as you please. No one can ultimately resist your will, and we’re foolish when we try. You’re not a manageable deity; you’re not predictable; you’re not programmable. You are mysterious—good, but mysterious. Hallelujah, many times over!

As I head squirm in a season of difficult decisions, I’m so thankful that you are a sovereign Father, having equal care for each of your children. I can trust you. I don’t have to panic. I don’t have to worry. I don’t have to take matters into my own hands. I don’t have to fear outcomes, “what ifs,” or “if only’s.” Second-guessing must surrender to gospel sanity.

Father, help me to want your purposes to stand more than I want life not to be messy. Help me to glory in your pleasure more than I obsess about my future. Help me to accept disruption as a necessary part of transformation. There’s no comfort like the comfort which comes from knowing you, and calling you Abba, Father. So very Amen I pray, in Jesus’ trustworthy name.

No Mute Button

Father, thank you that we don’t have to mute our emotions, window-dress our stories, or doing anything to get ready for grace. Grace is for sinners, not for the competent. Mercy is for messes, not for the manicured. Strength comes to the weak, not to the promising. Hope is for the heartless, not the hardy.  

- Scotty Smith

 

A Prayer about Two Very Different Fridays

 By Scotty Smith

 

So do not worry, saying, “What shall we eat?” or “What shall we drink?” or “What shall we wear?” For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 

Matt. 6:31-33

Lord Jesus, there’s more traffic than usual on the roads early this morning, but not as much as last year. Though it’s just a little after 4:00 am, Black Friday got a jump start this year with doors opening at midnight. People have already been pushing against doors, running up aisles, and grabbing for items for many hours now.

Jesus, I’m not sitting here in condescending judgment of anyone, for there’s no one, by nature, more greedy or grabby than me. I am just as inclined to “run after these things” as anyone else. I thank you that I get to live in a time and place of abundance. I praise you I’ve never had to be concerned about what I’ll eat, drink, or wear. And I’m grateful that many people will enjoy fine savings and get real bargains today.

But all the hubbub of Black Friday, simply makes me more grateful for another Friday—for Good Friday and what you accomplished that day for us on the cross.

At your expense, the riches of grace are freely lavished on ill-deserving people, like me. It’s only because of you, Jesus, that I know God as Abba, Father—who knows my every need; who answers before I ask; who gives me all things richly to enjoy; who satisfies my hunger and slakes my thirst, with the manna of the gospel and the living water of the Spirit; who has clothed my shameful nakedness with your perfect righteousness.

Anybody that knows you is wealthy beyond all imagination, measure and accounting.
We praise you.
We adore you.
We worship you with humble and grateful hearts.

Two days after this Black Friday we will celebrate the first Sunday in Advent. As we reflect upon the promises of your coming and the wonder of your birth, teach us anew what it means to seek your kingdom first, above anything and everything else. What new chapters of your story of redemption and restoration would you write through us?

Even as your righteous has come to us by faith, how might it come through us to the broken places in our communities? Rather than spending more money on ourselves, how would you have us invest our time, talent, and treasure in serving others? We praise you for your transforming kingdom and we long for its consummate fullness. So very Amen we pray, with grateful hearts and great anticipation.

A Prayer about “Trick or Treat” Spirituality

By Scotty Smith:

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great cloud a of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith.   Heb. 12:1–2

Lord Jesus, over the course of the next 24 hours, many people in the world, mostly Roman Catholic and Anglican, will be celebrating All Saints Day—a day for remembering commendable examples of spirituality, departed men and women worthy of the title “saint”. It’s also Halloween—a celebration of strange attire, doorbell ringing, and tooth decay. I can now see how much these seemingly antithetical celebrations have in common.

For a good part of my life I thought the “cloud of witnesses” referred to in this passage in Hebrews was a select company of spiritual giants, peering down from heaven onto the earthly playing field of Christianity, cheering us on in the righteousness race—pulling for us to make it across the finish line. Noah, Abraham, Moses, King David, the apostle Paul—all winners and worthy saints, charging us to do well, persevere with sweat, and finish strong. What a burden to wear. What an utter distortion of the gospel and a colossal misrepresentation of you.

That version of spirituality fueled my pride, when I did well; and stoked my fear, when I did poorly. Actually, it was a “trick or treat spirituality.” I got the “treat” if I performed well. I got the “trick” if I performed poorly. What a mockery of your cross, Jesus. I now realize there’s no more ghoulish or ghastly costume to wear than my own attempts to appease and please you. The one thing Noah, Abraham, Moses, David, and Paul all had in common was their abject brokenness and consuming need of your grace. They’re in a “hall of fame” of faith, not of works (Hebrews 11).

So today I remember the heroes of grace you’ve sent into my life—the men and women who preached and still preach the gospel of grace to my heart. I don’t fix my gaze on them, but on you, Jesus, for you are the author and finisher of our faith. The only reason I’m a saint is because the Father has hidden my life in yours. My only “dress” is your perfection plus nothing; for you are our righteousness and sanctification and redemption (1 Cor.1:30).

I will run and finish the race because in you, Jesus, I live, move, and have my being. Nothing can separate us from your love. I will make it to heaven not because of my efforts but because of yours. There are no tricks nor treats, there’s just you; and everything that is yours, you have made to be ours. What wondrous love and eternal inheritance is this, indeed! So very Amen we pray, in your holy and worthy name.

It's good for our hearts to be strengthened by grace Hebrews 13:9

Outrageously affluent in the currency of kindness, tolerance, and patience.

Scotty Smith:  A Prayer about God’s Kindness Leading Us to Repentance

Do you show contempt for the riches of his kindness, forbearance and patience, not realizing that God’s kindness is intended to lead you to repentance? Rom. 2:4

Heavenly Father, I’ve seen many crazy things in my life; I’ve encountered a few crazy people; and I’ve certainly done my share of crazy things. But the most certifiably insane thing I do is to show contempt for the riches of your kindness, tolerance, and patience toward me in Jesus. I do this when I bow my neck, dig my heels in and refuse to follow your kindness into the green pastures of fresh repentance. Have mercy on me, the sinner.

The GPS of the gospel will never direct us to a destination of harm but only to a place of greater freedom and health. When we fight humbling ourselves; when we refuse to acknowledge the ways we love poorly, act immaturely, rebel openly; when we say “No!” to grieving our attitudes and actions that rob you of glory and us of grace, this is sheer madness. Showing contempt for your kindness is the ultimate destructive folly. Have mercy on me, the sinner.

Father, I praise you today for being outrageously affluent in the currency of kindness, tolerance, and patience. There’s no economic downturn in heaven—never has been, never will be. But I don’t presume on the bullion of your loving-kindness. It’s only because Jesus willingly endured the judgment I deserve that I’m in a position to be dealt with so mercifully and graciously. It’s only because he took the bankruptcy of the cross we get the inheritance of your grace.

Father, thank you for kindly leading us to humility, not to humiliation; to shelter, not to shame; to repentance, not to penance. For when I repent, I’m not the one making promises for change—you are. Only you can change us, and you are changing us, for you have covenanted to do so. That’s what the gospel is all about—simply collapsing upon Jesus, once again, as our perfect righteousness and sure hope of a new and changed heart.

So this morning, kind Father, I repent. I repent of not trusting that you are at work in my current irritating circumstances. I’ve looked at the weaknesses of others more than I’ve kept my eyes fixed on Jesus. It’s been easier (and at times more satisfying) to gossip than to pray. I’ve been moping about and plotting like an orphan, rather than rejoicing and trusting as a beloved son.

I’ve been more preoccupied with the ways of broken men than thrilled with the occupied throne of heaven. I’ve acted as though I care more about Jesus’ church than he does. How arrogant. I repent—because the gospel is true and you are so kind, I repent. So very Amen I pray, in Jesus’ merciful and mighty name.

A Prayer about God Owning Our Battles

From Heavenward by Scotty Smith:

The Lord saves not with sword and spear. For the battle is the Lord’s. 1 Sam. 17:47

This is what the Lord says to you: “Do not be afraid or discouraged because of this vast army. For the battle is not yours, but God’s.” 2 Chron. 20:15

Dear Father, I’m thankful when you’re selfish with things I don’t really want anyway—especially when you claim ownership of my battles. Though following Jesus involves intense warfare and wearing the armor you provide (Eph. 6:10–18), you are the Divine Warrior we must trust. Whether it’s a mere skirmish or an all-out assault, the battle belongs to you, Lord. Fear and discouragement are not the order of the day, faith and hope are.

We’re never more than David standing before Goliath (1Sam. 17); Elijah facing 400 prophets of Baal (1 Kings 18); Gideon taking on the Midianite army (Judges 6-8); Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego in a fiery furnace; Esther against the Persian government. It’s not our competence but your presence that matters. Not as disengaged pacifists, but as fully engaged worshipers, we will behold the salvation of the Lord.

Father, when it seems like evil and terror will triumph, let us hear the laughter of heaven. Give us eyes to see your already installed King, the Lord Jesus, reigning over all things (Psalm. 2).

When we’re under attack by the seducer, accuser, and condemner of the brethren, once again let us see Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith. He is our wisdom, righteousness, holiness, and redemption (1 Cor. 1:30–31). Our boast is in Jesus, not in anything in us.

Lord, when we have to confront darkness in very broken people and very broken situations, protect us and empower us through the gospel. When we get pulled into petty fights with our brothers and sisters in Christ, humble all of us by your mercy and grace, and bring us back to faith expressing itself in love, quickly.

When my own divided heart wages war inside of me and I’m tempted to look for another savior; when I begin to lose confidence in the sufficiency of your grace, the trustworthiness of your promises and the hope of the gospel, come to me in the storm, Jesus, and make peace in the warzone of my soul. So very Amen I pray, in your loving and triumphant name.

Your Delight in Me is not Contingent Upon my Delight in you.

A Prayer for Days When You Don’t Feel Like Praying

Heavenward by Scotty Smith

In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.  And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God. And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.  Romans 8:26-28

Dear Father, this is one of those days when I could create a long prayer list and methodically go through it, but I’m not sure I would really be praying. I could go through the motions, but to be quite honest, it would be more ritual than reality… more about me, than the people and situations I’d bring before you. I’m feeling a bit distracted this morning, scattered and not very focused.

It’s one of those days I’m glad the gospel is much more about your grasp of me than my grip on you. It’s one of those days I’m grateful your delight in me is not contingent upon my delight in you. It’s one of those days I’m very thankful for the prayer ministry of the Holy Spirit.

     

Gracious Father, I have no problem or reluctance in acknowledging my weakness this morning. In fact it’s freeing to know your Spirit doesn’t abandon us when we’re weak, but helps us in our weakness. Just as Jesus constantly prays for us, the Holy Spirit faithfully prays in us with “wordless groans.” Though I don’t understand everything that means, I do get the part about you searching our hearts and you knowing the mind of the Spirit, and that brings me great comfort today.

     

No one knows our hearts better than you, Father. And you search our hearts to save us, not to shame us… to deliver us, not to demean us… to change us, not to chide us. You know my dignity and my depravity, my fears and my longings, my struggles with sin and my standing in Christ. No one but you knows how little or how much of the gospel I actually get.

     

And at this very moment your Spirit is praying inside of me… perfectly tuned into my needs and in total harmony with your will. I cannot measure the peace that brings. I surrender right now, Father. I will gladly groan to your glory. I know you are at work for my good in all things, including this season.

    

All I have to do is look at Jesus and know these things are true. You have called me to life in him and you will complete your purpose in me… and in each of your children… and in the entire cosmos. I do love you, I would love you more. So very Amen, I pray, in Jesus’ merciful and faithful name.

Three Dollars (not just a cup of Starbucks)

A Prayer about Stuff and Contentment

by Scotty Smith

Do not toil to acquire wealth; be discerning enough to desist. When your eyes light on it, it is gone, for suddenly it sprouts wings, flying like an eagle toward heaven.  Prov. 23:4-5

But godliness with contentment is great gain. For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of it. But if we have food and clothing, we will be content with that. 1 Tim 6:6-8

Loving Father, we continue to live in a difficult economic season. Some of us who thought we’d be retired in a couple of years are now thinking it’s ten, if ever. Some of us have lost jobs, even homes. Some of us are selling stuff and downsizing out of necessity, not choice. Some of our marriages are being stressed to the point of breaking. Some of us are actually being tempted to steal for the first time. Lord, we need wisdom, we need a work of your Spirit, and some of us really do need jobs.

Father, we look to you. Give us the perspective and power of the gospel as we make hard decisions, and reflect on our relationship to money and “stuff.” Free us from an attitude of entitlement and place within us a Spirit of contentment. When did we first assume the right to excess? When did abundance get relabeled as need? Why did we think only first-century disciples of Jesus would ever actually have to pray for daily bread?

In our “iWorld” of new gadgets and cool widgets, help us ponder the fact that over half of the population on the earth exists on three of our American dollars, or less, a day. Free us to share with others from the much or little that we have. Help us to raise our children not to love money as much as we have. Don’t let us grow bitter, shame-filled or fearful.

Father, if we would wear ourselves out for anything, let it be to become rich toward you (Luke 12:20–21)—to have the gospel so penetrate our hearts that we cry out with spontaneous joy, “Who do I have in heaven but you, O Lord, and being with you I desire nothing on the earth . . . You are my portion, sovereign Lord.”

Lord Jesus, you who were immeasurably rich in all things became incomprehensibly poor for us, so that we, who were desperately poor in sin, might be made inconceivably rich in grace. We worship and adore, with humility and gratitude. We thank you for the daily bread of both wheat and the gospel. So very Amen we pray, in your holy and gracious name.

Tears in our Coffee and Beer

A Prayer for the Discouraged
by Scotty Smith

As a deer pants for flowing streams, so pants my soul for you, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When shall I come and appear before God? My tears have been my food day and night, while they say to me all the day long, “Where is your God?” Ps. 42:1–3

Gracious Father, your Word gives voice to every season, circumstance, and emotion we experience in the journey to gospel wholeness. In our delight and in our despair, in our certainty and in our frailty; in our cheers and in our fears—and in everything in between, you are with us and you are for us.

You don’t love us more when we have a dancing heart. You don’t love us less when we have a doubting heart. Delightful circumstances don’t mean we’ve done everything right and hard providences don’t mean we’ve done something wrong. Indeed, with kindness you drew us, and with an everlasting, unwavering love, you hold us—no matter what.

Today we bring our discouraged, weary, deeply hurting friends to you, Lord. For you tell us that when one part of the Body hurts, the whole Body hurts. We are to rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep. We fulfill the law of Christ by bearing one another’s burdens.

Lord, sometimes it feels like life is just too much: the hard events, the difficult people, the aches and pains of this “tent” of a body; cars and plumbing that break down, friends who bury their wives way too early, children who seem allergic to the gospel, mounting bills and decreasing resources, and a world—even family members who say, “Where is your God in all this? What have you done wrong? Why are you holding on?”

Tears in our coffee and beer, on our sandwiches and in our cereal, and dry tears when there is no heart water left. Lord Jesus, you know what this is like—you better than anyone else. For you took the ultimate combination of assaults and insults on the cross, for me and my friends. Your cry, “My God, my God, why have your forsaken me?”, assures us we will never be forsaken—never, even when life mocks our creed and confession. It’s your thirst on the cross that assures us that out thirst is fleeting, though at times it feels fatal.

Lord Jesus, as we pant for you, you are running to us with the living water of the gospel; as we starve for hope, you are preparing the fresh bread of mercy and grace. Come quickly, Lord. Show us how to love our friends well when our words are simply not enough. So very Amen we pray, in your faithful and tender name. Amen.

Thirsty?

A Prayer about Thirsty Panting for Jesus

by Scotty Smith

     As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When can I go and meet with God?  Ps. 42:1-2

Loving Jesus, there’s no craving more demanding than thirst. It’s neither patient nor polite. When we get even a little dehydrated, we’re usually quick to slake thirst’s unrelenting demand, one way or another. Thirst will not be denied.

Because this is true, we join the Psalmist in crying out, “Jesus, intensify our thirst for you. Create within us an unremitting longing for rich communion with you. Keep us panting like the deer which pants after streams of water—the unpolluted, undistilled, never-ending brooks of your bounty. Keep us redemptively discontent until we find fresh refreshment in you.

Quickly drain and smash the broken-cisterns of our own making. Don’t let us be even momentarily satisfied with any other beverage than the draft you draw, the potion you pour, the life-giving libation you alone can give.”  

     

If we take up King David’s lament, “When can I go and meet with God?” you answer back, without delay, “Right now, my beloved, do not wait. If you’re thirsty, come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, streams of living water will flow from within him.” (John 7:38)

     

If we should say, “But Jesus, where can we find you?” You answer back even quicker, “Not in the Law; not in your strivings; not in your labors; not in your earnestness; not in your self-loathing’s; not in your vain promises, but only in the gospel.

     

Come and fall into the rivers of my delight. Stand under the cascading waterfalls of my grace. Open your heart wide to my supply and I will over-fill you with everything you need and more than you want.”

    

Even so and evermore, Lord Jesus, school us well in pant-theology. As you are the Lord of demand and supply, fill us afresh than we might be a people to the praise of your glory and grace. We pray, in your all glorious and all generous name.

A Prayer about Thirsty Panting for Jesus is a post from: Heavenward by Scotty Smith

Incessantly Gossip the Gospel

Yet another amazing prayer by Scotty Smith.

 

Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I entrust my life. Psalm 143:8

    
Dear heavenly Father, in the morning, at mid-day, in the afternoon and throughout the night, keep on bringing us word of your unfailing love. That’s all we need, that’s all we really need. By the Holy Spirit, incessantly gossip the gospel in our inmost ear. Wrap the good news of your boundless, endless affections around our hearts, tighter and tighter and tighter. Permeate every bit of our being with your fresh mercies, steadfast love and transforming grace, for we have put our trust in you.
    

Father, it’s the assurance of your unfailing love which enables us to trust you with the transitions we go through in life and the uncertainties about the future. Change is never easy. Change makes us feel vulnerable, fearful and insecure.
    
We get tempted, once again, to be our own savior. Spare us that misery, Father, spare us and those we love.  May our broken cisterns hold bitter water and our idols of choice fail us quickly. May your Word dwell in us richly; your peace rule in us powerfully; and your glory be our main passion and delight.
    
We’ve entrusted our lives to you, Father, because you alone are trustworthy. We’ve given you our sins, wounds, brokenness and weakness. Now, in fresh surrender, we give you our planning for the next season of our lives. Show us the way we should go through our transitions—transitions of age and stage; career and calling; health and finances; relationships and ministries. Write stories of redemption beyond our wildest dreams and hopes. It’s all about you, Jesus, not us, you.
    
We’re not so arrogant as to expect all the details. Just take us by the hand and lead the way. Father, continue to open doors we cannot shut and shut doors we cannot open. All we need to know is that you love us and that you’re with us. You’ve promised us both, and you do not lie. So very Amen, we pray, in Jesus’ peerless and priceless name.

A Prayer of Trust for Seasons of Change is a post from: Heavenward by Scotty Smith
 

A Prayer about God’s Sovereignty and Our Sanity

At the end of that time, I, Nebuchadnezzar, raised my eyes toward heaven, and my sanity was restored. Then I praised the Most High; I honored and glorified him who lives forever. His dominion is an eternal dominion; his kingdom endures from generation to generation. All the peoples of the earth are regarded as nothing. He does as he pleases with the powers of heaven and the peoples of the earth. No one can hold back his hand or say to him: “What have you done?”     Daniel 4:34-35

Almighty Father, I need to “bookmark” this passage and return to it often, for it doesn’t just tell the conversion story of a pagan King, it’s the ongoing story of my heart. We’re never more sane than when we raise our eyes towards heaven and focus our attention on you. Navel gazing, circumstance watching and daily-news fixating never serve us well.

    

Father, help us to understand the glorious implications of your perpetual enthronement. Your dominion as the only eternal dominion. November elections and political insurrections; the world economy and temperature instability; earthquakes and oil leaks; multiplied conspiracies and conservative tea parties don’t affect your reign one micro-bit for one nanosecond.

For your kingdom endures from generation to generation. There never has been, nor will there ever be any nervous sweat, furrowed brows or anxious pacing in heaven; not one moment of consternation or vexation in the corridors of paradise; no need for a plan B to emerge from the Big Boardroom.

Father, you do as you please with the powers of heaven and the peoples of earth. I praise you for marshalling  the powers of heaven for the salvation of ill-deserving rebels like me and the ultimate transformation of the entire cosmos. Though many tried to hold back your hand; though many said “What are you doing?”, nevertheless, you chose the sacrifice of your Son and the “foolishness” of the cross, as the greatest demonstration of your sovereignty and grace.

The only King who could say, “Behold the world I have made” is the only King who would say, “Behold the people for whom I die.” Father, the greatest sanity is gospel-sanity. Keep us sane, Father, keep us gospel-sane.

We choose to lift our eyes to heaven today and fix our gaze on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, and we cry with unfettered, unabated joy, “Hallelujah what a Savior! Hallelujah what a salvation!” So very Amen, we pray, in the name and for the glory of the true King, Jesus.

A Prayer about God’s Sovereignty and Our Sanity is a post from: Heavenward by Scotty Smith

A Prayer for Joy in Becoming Less

     They came to John and said to him, “Rabbi, that man who was with you on the other side of the Jordan—the one you testified about—look, he is baptizing, and everyone is going to him.”   To this John replied, “A person can receive only what is given them from heaven. You yourselves can testify that I said, ‘I am not the Messiah but am sent ahead of him.’ The bride belongs to the bridegroom. The friend who attends the bridegroom waits and listens for him, and is full of joy when he hears the bridegroom’s voice. That joy is mine, and it is now complete. He must become greater; I must become less.” John 3:26-30

Dear Jesus, I’m not sure about a wardrobe of camel’s hair clothing, and a diet of locusts and wild honey (Matt. 3:4), but I am sure I want more of John the Baptist’s joy—the joy of you becoming greater while I become less. Indeed, John leapt for joy at the very thought of you while he was still in his own mother’s womb (Luke 1:39-40). Who but the Holy Spirit can create such Christ-centered joy? Could you, would you bring a fresh measure of this same joy to my heart?

     

O, to have a joy largely defined by people making much about you, Jesus—so much, in fact, that I wouldn’t really notice them not making much of me. That would bring greater freedom from the insecurities of my pride and my desire for the approval of people. O, to love the vindication of your name a zillion times more than the honoring of mine. That would bring more freedom from my passion to be understood and my efforts to be in control of my reputation.

     

Jesus, what would it be like to experience greater grief when people don’t “get” you, than when they don’t “get” me?  What would it be like to say with John, “A person can receive only what is given them from heaven”, and really, really mean it—to accept the “giving’s and taking-away’s” in life equally as sovereign appointments from your throne of grace? That would bring freedom to love and serve you no matter what.

     

What would it be like to know you so well, I could say, “I’m not worthy to untie the lace of his sandals” (John 1:27) with joy in my heart, not any sense of self-contempt? What would it be like to know you so well, like John did, that I could bring you my doubts without any hesitancy, or fear of rejection and shame? (Matthew 11:1-15). O to be this free and at home in your love.

    

Most kind and beautiful Bridegroom, bring more of this joy to my hungry, expectant heart. So very Amen, I pray, in your priceless and peerless name.

A Prayer for Joy in Becoming Less is a post from: Heavenward by Scotty Smith

Religious but not in Christ

Yet another amazing prayer by Scotty Smith.  Also, read the prior posts "The Problem with the Pigpen" and  "No Salvation at All":

You who are trying to be justified by the law have been alienated from Christ; you have fallen away from grace. For through the Spirit we eagerly await by faith the righteousness for which we hope.   Galatians 5:4-5

Dear Jesus, this is one of the most sobering passages I’ve ever read about the gospel. Paul doesn’t describe “falling from grace” in terms of falling into immorality or godless living. Rather, to fall from grace is to lapse into performance-based spirituality—trying to gain and maintain a relationship with God based on my obedience to the law. How perilous and eternally destructive it is to move away from the gospel of your grace.

In reality, trying to be justified by law is the essence of godless living, for the righteousness we must have can only be received by faith, not by works. Everything else leads to alienation from you—a godless existence, indeed. So, more than any other form of accountability, we need accountability for believing the gospel.

If I maintain a daily regimen of Bible reading, memorization and quiet times, but don’t really believe the gospel, it will profit me nothing.

If I’m scrupulous to avoid evil, and even the appearance of evil, but no longer believe the gospel, I am self-righteous and lost.

If I should go on short term missions trips every month and give a big portion of my income to the poor, yet don’t trust the gospel-plus-nothing for my salvation, I’m a generous altruistic infidel.

If I am careful to obey every imperative—all the commands I find in the Bible, but no longer believe the indicatives of the gospel, I’m certainly religious, but I’m not in Christ.

If I cross every theological “t” just right, love the Bible, and correct heresy everywhere I find it, yet lasp into justification by works, I’m to be just as pitied as any other person outside of Christ.

If I weep many tears of sadness over my sin and earnestly repent, yet no longer cling to your cross as my propitiation and righteousness, I’m only a tearful pagan.

Jesus, by your Holy Spirit, hold us accountable for believing the gospel. Continuance in the gospel is the test of spiritual reality. And, should we participate in accountability groups, let us be most zealous to hold each other accountable for believing the gospel. Everything else will take care of itself. So very Amen, we pray, in your holy and righteous name.

A Prayer about Accountability for Believing the Gospel is a post from: Heavenward by Scotty Smith

For the Fame of your Name

Another good Scotty Smith Prayer:

Will you not revive us again, that your people may rejoice in you? Show us your unfailing love, LORD, and grant us your salvation. Psalm 85:6-7

Jesus, I’ve read tantalizing stories about the First Great Awakening—about the grand visitation of the Holy Spirit in New England in the 18^th century; when the gospel swept through hearts, churches and the culture with transforming power and beauty. I read these accounts and with a holy lust, my spirit drools and my heart aches with longing. Why not again? Why not in our churches? Why not now?

Jesus, for the fame of your name… for the praise of your glory… for the satisfaction of your people… for the humbling of our country… for a testimony to the nations… as a preview of life in the new heaven and new earth, will you not revive us again that we may rejoice in you?

Restore in us the love we had at first—unfettered love for you and tangible love for one another. Remind us of how new we felt when the weight of our sin lifted and the weight of your glory came down on us in the gospel; how free we felt when we actually hated our sin and finally trusted you plus nothing for our salvation;  how grateful we felt when you first rescued us from our unrighteousness and our self-righteousness; how focused we felt when you first took up residence in our hearts by the Holy Spirit. Nothing else really mattered but you and your kingdom. So how in the world did we stark leaking grace?

  

Where did the pickiness and pettiness come from, Jesus? How did we move from organic reality to obsession with organization? When did we fall back into performance-based spirituality and score-card relationships? When did childlike intercession get replaced with eye-browed-raised suspicions? What caused the sweet to turn into mean? How did the unity of the Spirit get trumped by the disunity of distrust? When did we get so bored and boring that we started playing church rather than being the church? When did we start keeping a better record of wrongs done, than stories of gospel wins and kingdom advances? How is it possible to be so zealous for lyric of the gospel but lose its music?

     

Jesus, will you not revive us again, that your people may rejoice in you? Show us your unfailing love, LORD, and grant us your salvation, again and again and again. That’s all we want, that’s all we need. So very Amen, we pray, in your most loving and faithful name.

A Prayer Expressing the Longing for a Gospel Renewal is a post from: Heavenward by Scotty Smith