Gratitude for a Renewed Heart

I keep my eyes always on the Lord.
    With him at my right hand, I will not be shaken.

Therefore my heart is glad and my tongue rejoices;
    my body also will rest secure,
because you will not abandon me to the realm of the dead,
    nor will you let your faithful one see decay.

(Psalm 16:8-10)

I praise you, good and loving Lord,

for the ways that you have filled my heart

during these forty days.

Your presence has

  strengthened me,

  comforted me,

  encouraged me,

  filled me with hope,

  convicted me of my sin 

          (and that’s not a bad thing),

  inspired compassion, mercy, and grace within me.

  given me peace.

Oh, that wonderful peace that only you can give!

And in this past week, as my heart has

meditated on your passion,

I am humbled by the magnitude of your love.

"Love so amazing, so divine,

demands my life, my soul, my all!"

I thank you for these forty days of Lent.

I have needed them.

But then again, you knew that long before Lent began.

Sometime last year, you began to whisper to me,

"My child, you need prayer. 

You need to open your heart to Me."

I offer this prayer in the shadow of the cross.

I have left the tomb, with you wrapped in burial cloths.

I know how this ends, so I cannot spend my Saturday 

in mourning and fear.

I know that Sunday is coming.

I know that death cannot hold you in the tomb.

And because death did not hold you in the tomb,

then I also know that death will not hold me there, either.

For you will not abandon me to the realm of the dead,

     nor will you let your faithful one see decay.

Over these forty days

you have shown me once again

that you are God,

  and that you are gracious and compassionate,

  and that you are forgiving,

  and that you are always with me,

  and that your blessings are more than I can count,

  and that though I cannot know the future,

        I can know you.

And that is enough.

That will always be enough.

You, Lord, will always be enough.

I love you, Lord. I really do.

My heart is glad, my tongue rejoices,

and my body will rest secure,

in You.

Amen.

Father, into Your Hands I Commit My Spirit

Into your hands I commit my spirit;
    deliver me, Lord, my faithful God.

(Psalm 31:5)

My heart aches on this day, O God,

as I think about the agony of your Son.

He was despised and rejected

by people not unlike me. 

He was oppressed and afflicted,

again, because of people like me.

He was subjected to the greatest agony 

he could ever experience, 

when you turned your back on him:

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

He watched his mother watch him die;

no one should ever have to experience that horror, but he did.

O God, forgive me, 

for it was my sin, and the sin of the whole world,

that was placed upon Jesus.

He did not deserve any of the torture or punishment he endured.

He did not deserve it, but he endured it just the same,

because of us (myself included), 

and also for us (myself included).

The agony he experienced

was for the fulfillment of your plan

for the salvation of the world.

He endured the cross,

and every cruel thing that came with it,

because “it is written.”

And at the end, he said unto you,

“Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.”

He lived and died, O God, completely trusting in you.

But for that one moment  in his cry of dereliction,

he had always experienced perfect fellowship with you.

Even in his cry of abandonment,

he did not fail to trust you.

And his last words before he breathed his last,

“Father into your hands I commit my spirit.”

Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.

When I witness Jesus, who only wanted 

to be faithful to you, even unto death,

I want the same for my life.

Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.

I rest in you, 

for you are righteous and just,

and you are gracious and compassionate,

and you are faithful and true;

there is no shadow of turning with thee.

Your Son has shown me the way:

the way of the cross, to deny myself,

the way of the cross, to give myself for others,

the way of the cross, to show my love for others

the way of the cross, to forgive others,

the way of the cross, to be faithful to you.

Your Son has shown me the way,

and I want to live like him.

Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.

Amen.

During the season of Lent, I am "Praying with David," using prayers from the psalms as inspiration for personal prayers.

I Was in the Upper Room

Even my bosom friend in whom I trusted,
    who ate of my bread, 

    has lifted the heel against me.

(Psalm 41:9)

On this day, O Jesus, I come to you with heavy heart.

I will go up with you from Bethany to Jerusalem,

and I will gather with you at the table

in the upper room.

On this day, O Jesus, I will hear you say,

"Truly I tell you, one of you will betray me – 

one who is eating with me."

And I will say, along with all the others

who gather at the table with you,

"Surely you don’t mean me?"

On this day, O Jesus, I will hear you say,

"You will all fall away, for it is written,

      ‘I will strike the shepherd,

          and the sheep will be scattered.’"

And I will boldly bluster with bravado, as did Peter,

"Even if all fall away, I will not."

I know, Jesus, 

I wasn’t in the upper room all those years ago.

But still, I can see myself in the disciples.

I, like them, am a broken sinner,

prone to the temptation of greed and glory,

weak against opposition,

apt to crumble under pressure.

"Even my bosom friend in whom I trusted,

     who ate of my bread,

     has lifted his heel against me."

I, Lord – even I – am that bosom friend.

My heart breaks at my weakness.

And yet 

(there are those amazing words again: "And yet")

knowing the treachery,

knowing the abandonment,

knowing the denial,

still you invite us – me – to your table.

     "Take, eat. This is my body."

     "Drink from it, all of you. 

      This is my blood of the covenant,

      which is poured out for many

      for the forgiveness of sins."

You knew, Lord. 

You knew how your people would fail you.

And yet you loved us just the same.

And you opened the way for us,

for our forgiveness

and our salvation.

On this day, O Jesus, I will receive the gift 

of your body and your blood

to nourish my soul

and to renew in me a right and steadfast spirit.

On this day, O Jesus,

you have answered my weakness

with your grace and mercy.

I am humbled.

I am grateful.

I am yours.

Amen.

During the season of Lent, I am "Praying with David," using prayers from the psalms as inspiration for personal prayers.

A Prayer for Healing... from Sin

Create in me a pure heart, O God,

     and renew a steadfast spirit within me.

Do not cast me away from your presence

     or take your Holy Spirit from me.

Restore to me the joy of your salvation

     and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me.

Then I will teach transgressors your ways, 

     so that sinners will turn back to you.

(Psalm 51:10-13)

Merciful and gracious God,

I have been so focused during this season

on one disease: COVID-19.

And with good reason, 

for the coronavirus has turned our world

upside down.

People around the world are dying from the disease,

thousands every day.

Our best science cannot cure it;

our best science simply says

that we should stay in our homes,

  and wash hands,

    and wear masks.

And so, with good reason,

my prayers have sought healing from COVID-19

and from the effects of the pandemic:

Heal your people, O God.

But there’s another disease to consider, O Lord,

Especially this time of the year,

in the days we refer to as Holy Week.

It’s a disease with one hundred percent infection

and one hundred percent mortality.

There’s a name for this disease, O Lord:

SIN.

I have the disease, Lord;

I have had it all my life;

and I cannot cure myself.

I can try to hide the effects of this disease

from people around me:

  I do good things,

  I help people,

  I show compassion to others.

I can put on a good show.

Omniscient God from whom nothing is hidden,

  you know I have the disease;

  you know I am a sinner;

  you know the corruption of my heart.

I cannot hide my heart from you, O Lord.

  You know my sins.

  You know my secrets.

  You know the things that taint and corrupt 

       the beauty of your image in me.

But then, as I remember your Son this week:

  betrayed

    denied – three times

      arrested and tortured,

        abandoned – by his friends, and by you 

          crucified – for me, 

                         and for every other sinner before me

                         and for every sinner alongside me

                         and for every sinner after me.

And so I know that there is a cure for my disease.

It’s not a cure I can conjure;

it’s a gift from you.

Thank you.

I cannot hide my heart from you, O Lord.

But I can give it to you:

Take me as I am, but do not leave me this way, I pray.

Take me, and wash me, 

    that I may be made clean and pure.

Take me, and purge from me 

    those things that have corrupted my being.

Take me, and make me a new creation.

Create in me a pure heart, O God, 

    for the sake of your glory and grace.

Heal me, I pray, of my sin.

Amen.

During the season of Lent, I am "Praying with David," using prayers from the psalms as inspiration for personal prayers.

A Prayer for the Unwillingly Isolated

Where can I go from your Spirit? 

     Where can I flee from your presence? 

If I go up to the heavens, you are there; 

     if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. 

If I rise on the wings of the dawn, 

     if I settle on the far side of the sea, 

even there your hand will guide me, 

     your right hand will hold me fast. 

If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me 

     and the light become night around me,”

even the darkness will not be dark to you; 

     the night will shine like the day, 

     for darkness is as light to you.

(Psalm 139:7)

O God, since it is true that there is nowhere

that you are not;

and since it is true that no darkness 

can hide any of us from you;

and since it is true that wherever we are,

there you are also – 

Today I pray for those whom the pandemic

has closed off from companionship:

  for patients in hospitals, 

          where no visitors are allowed

  for residents of nursing facilities, 

          where no visitors are allowed

  for people in self-quarantine, 

          where no visitors are allowed

  for the incarcerated, 

          where no visitors are allowed

  for those sick with other conditions, 

          and visitors are not allowed.

It must be a living hell of loneliness, O God,

for those who are not allowed visitors, companionship.

They have no one to tell them it will be okay.

They have no one to hold their hand.

They have no one to comfort them.

So today I pray for those whom the pandemic

has closed off from companionship.

You can visit them, O Lord.

You can fill them with your presence,

  and let them know that they are not alone.

You can calm their fears 

  by giving them your peace.

You can assure them that you will heal them.

You can whisper into their spirit,

"Never will I leave you nor forsake you."

Will you do that, Lord?

Will you assure them that they are not alone?

Will you comfort them?

Will you heal them?

Will you say to them, 
"Peace I give to you. My peace I give to you;
not as the world gives do I give unto you.
Let not your heart be troubled;
neither let it be afraid"?

Will you please let them know how much you love them,

and that there is nothing in all this world

that can take your love away from them?

Will you do that, Lord?

Please?

Will you visit those whom the pandemic

has closed off from companionship?

I know you will, because that’s 

the kind of God you are.

You do care.

And you are able.

And you are present.

Always.

Today I pray for those whom the pandemic

has closed off from companionship.

Amen.

During the season of Lent I am “Praying with David,” using prayers from the psalms as inspiration for personal prayers.

Remember the Children and Youth

Turn, O Lord! How long?
    Have compassion on your servants!
Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love,
    so that we may rejoice and be glad all our days.
Make us glad as many days as you have afflicted us,
    and as many years as we have seen evil.
Let your work be manifest to your servants,
    and your glorious power to their children.
Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us,
    and prosper for us the work of our hands—
    O prosper the work of our hands!

(Psalm 90:13-17)

Hear us, O Lord, as we cry out to you!

Listen to the cries of our hearts, 

as we pray for your people in distress.

For our world is in chaos and turmoil 

like no living generation has ever before seen 

(at least not in our nation).

Our hearts today are heavy for the youth 

whose hopes and dreams have been put on hold,

their many rites of passage.

They try to remain brave in the face of COVID-19,

but it’s hard for them not to notice

the fear of their parents

and of the grown-ups in their lives.

It’s hard for them not to see

the burdens everyone is carrying.

Hear us, O God, as we pray for the youth and children.

They say they don’t like school,

but still, they miss it.

They miss their teachers.

They miss the social life.

They miss their friends.

"Let your works be manifest to your servants,

and your glorious power to their children..."

That’s a prayer we offer for our children, our youth:

Let your glorious power, O Lord, be made known to them.

Comfort them in this chaotic whirlwind.

Fill them with your peace.

Dispel their fears with the assurance

that you are in control,

and that you are with them,

and that you will carry them through.

Let your works and your glorious power

be known to our children, to our youth.

Because we love them,

and we want their world to be

full of hope, compassion, 

and your steadfast love.

We love them,

and we want them to come through this

with a deep and abiding love for you.

Please, Lord,

let your works and your glorious power

be known to our children, to our youth.

Amen.

During the season of Lent, I am "Praying with David," using prayers from the psalms as inspiration for personal prayers.