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.

A Psalm of Joyful Praise

I will sing of your steadfast love, O Lord, forever;
    with my mouth I will proclaim your faithfulness

    to all generations.
I declare that your steadfast love is established forever;
    your faithfulness is as firm as the heavens.

(Psalm 89:1-2)

Praise for you fills my heart, O God,

and I can't contain myself.

"Spring up, O well, within my soul!"

Even in this season of pandemic,

when troubles and trials abound,

nevertheless my heart is light with joy.

Of course, I grieve for the world,

my heart aches for the brokenness 

that your people are experiencing.

But still, a song of joy fills my heart,

because I know your love is better than life.

As high as the heavens are above the earth – 

that’s how great is your love toward us.

When I consider the problems and troubles 

that fill our world right now,

as great and numerous and burdensome as they are,

they are no match for you.

For your power and might are unsurpassed:

  you are Creator of heaven and earth, and all that is in them;

  you are Sovereign Lord over all the world;

  you govern all things by the unsearchable mystery

     of your Providence.

Great is your faithfulness, O Lord,

great is your faithfulness.

Indeed, we are deep in the midst of troubling days,

but then, so are you, right in the depths with us.

So as I see it, "If God is for us, who can stand against us?"

I am confident of this:

I shall see the goodness of the Lord

in the land of the living;

indeed I shall see the goodness of the Lord

every day.

While I have breath,

I will sing of your steadfast love forever, O Lord;

   with my mouth I will make known your faithfulness 

   to all generations.

My heart is light with joy;

praise for you fills my heart,

and I cannot keep it to myself.

Praise the Lord!

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

And Yet...

In peace I will lie down and sleep,
    for you alone, Lord,
    make me dwell in safety.

(Psalm 4:8)

Another day has passed, O God.

Another sunrise and sunset in the books.

Another day in the world of pandemic:

  To date, more than one million cases of COVID-19

    worldwide – and that just includes confirmed cases.*

  To date, nearly 53,000 people – your children – 

    have died. Again, that just includes confirmed cases.

  6.6 million people filed unemployment claims

    last week in the United States, 

    double from the previous week.

  The models predicting death tolls project more and more 

    every day.

Another day in the new normal:

  terrifying

  confusing

  mind-boggling

  overwhelming

  lonely

  numbing

  frustrating

  …

And yet.

My faith always includes these words: And yet.

Because my faith is in you.

It has been another day in the pandemic.

It has been another day of roller-coaster emotions.

It has been another day of unbearable uncertainty.

And yet, 

I have been filled with your peace;

I have witnessed your goodness; 

I have been assured of your presence;

I have a deep, abiding sense of hope;

I have felt your compassion, and mercy, and love.

Because I can say “And yet...”

and you are the subject of the verbs

  of hope,

  and comfort,

  and assurance,

then I will rest in peace tonight.

The chaos and troubles of the day

will always meet their match in you.

No matter what comes my way,

no matter the obstacles I face,

no matter the challenges that confront me,

I will say, “And yet, God...”

And I know all will be well.

In peace I will lie down in sleep,

     for you alone, Lord,

     make me dwell in safety.

Because at the end of the day,

I can always confess my faith:

“And yet, God...”

And therein I will find peace.

Your peace.

Amen. And good night.

*Figures cited from statistics posted on April 2, 2020. They are changing daily, and not for the better at the time of this blog post.

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

A Prayer of a Restless Spirit

Have mercy on me, Lord, for I am faint; 

     heal me, Lord, for my bones are in agony. 

My soul is in deep anguish. 

     How long, Lord, how long? 

Turn, Lord, and deliver me; 

     save me because of your unfailing love.

I am worn out from my groaning.

All night long I flood my bed with weeping
    and drench my couch with tears.

(Psalm 6:2-4, 6)

I can’t sleep Lord.

My mind is racing,

a million little things,

a few big things,

and probably too much caffeine

earlier in the day…

I toss and turn,

I can’t turn off my brain.

Questions and worries keep bubbling up:

  What if?

    What if my wife gets sick? 

    Or my children? 

    Or my parents? 

    Or my siblings?

    Or my friends?

  How long?

    How long will this go on? 

    How long will businesses be closed? 

    How long before I can worship with my flock?

  Why?

    Why is the world going through this pandemic? 

    Why couldn’t we have foreseen it? 

    Why does the COVID-19 become lethal for some, 

      but not for others? 

    Why… Why... Why...?

Worst case scenarios come to mind.

And they are frightening.

No wonder I can’t sleep tonight.

Then I remember, you have told me

that I should turn to you, 

and you will take the burden from me:

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened,

and I will give you rest.”

I think I’m going to take you up on that invitation, Lord.

Here – take my burdens, please.

Give me rest.

Have mercy, Lord.

Take my worries, my anxieties, my concerns, my burdens,

and replace them with your peace.

I know you are present with me – 

there is no darkness that can hide me from you –

and yet, I. need. to. feel. your. presence.

Come to me, I pray.

Give me your peace.

Give me rest.

Give me strength to face tomorrow.

Give me your peace.

And let me sleep.

Please.

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