Just prior to being executed, Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote from his prison cell, "I cannot get away from Jeremiah 45." When I read that a few days ago, I had to go see what was in Jeremiah 45 that Bonhoeffer couldn't get away from.
Jeremiah 45:5 says this, "should you then seek great things for yourself? Seek them not. For I will bring disaster on all people, declares the LORD, but wherever you go I will let you escape with your life" (NIV). I can see why Bonhoeffer had trouble getting away from it. He was a great thinker, theologian, teacher and pastor. His writings are considered classics. He could rightly have expected to accomplish great things during his lifetime.
Bonhoeffer consciously decided to violate his deeply held beliefs in pacifism to participate in a plot to assassinate Adolf Hitler. That plot failed, his connection to it was uncovered, and he was imprisoned in January of 1944. For the last year of his life, Bonhoeffer served as an unofficial pastor to the prisoners and guards that surrounded him. On April 9, 1945 he was executed. One month later, Germany surrendered. Bonhoeffer was only 39.
This promising thinker and pastor chooses to invest his life in this failed plot and then is executed for it. By most standard that would be considered a tragic failure--the waste of a life. Dietrich Bonhoeffer chose to waste his life. Right? I wonder.
I've heard the question before,"If failure was not possible, what would you do for God?" We're frequently encouraged to do great things for God. I've encouraged people this way myself. As I get older I am occasionally visited with the fear that I might be wasting my life. But does the expectation of great accomplishment for God come from him or is it our own invention?
When we have these expectations of ourselves, is it a way of hedging on grace? Is it a way to somehow prove to God that his redemption of us was worth it?
It is a great sacrifice to choose to be something for God. But is is at least as great a sacrifice to choose to be nothing for God. I struggle with that question. Am I willing to be nothing for God? Am I willing to disappear into obscurity if that is what God asks of me? I struggle with how I should respond when God says, "should you then seek great things for yourself? Seek them not." What if God asks me to "waste" my life on something that never bears any earthly fruit; or he asks me to live in such a way that I am forgotten minutes after the last shovel full of dirt covers my grave? Can I be okay with that? Would that be irresponsible? Would that be a waste?
Jesus said we must become like little children to enter the kingdom. Do little children have great ambitions? When I was a little kid I don't think I paid much attention to anything but kid things. It wasn't until I was a little older that I began to aspire to be more than what I was.
Micah 6:8 says, "He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God" (NIV). If that is what the Lord requires, should that not be the focus of our ambitions?
Maybe that is where the trouble lies. We get things backwards. We try to act justly, love mercy and walk humbly with God while we are trying to live out our ambitions to do great things for him. Maybe our ambition and focus should be to act justly, love mercy and walk humbly with God and trust him to bring about the great things if he chooses.
Bonhoeffer put justice, mercy and a humble walk with God first. That cost him his life and all the great accomplishments he may have achieved. Did he short change God? Did he cheat himself? Was it a waste?
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
In spite of
When things have not gone as I have wished during this transition period, I often find myself wondering if I have done something that has short-circuited God's plan. You know, maybe I acted on what I thought was God's voice, but it was really my own, and by doing so I spoiled all the plans God had for me (and quite probably the entire known world for generations to come).
That was the general direction I was heading in my prayers this morning when God, as he often does, led me to a Bible story. It was the story of Moses.
If you remember, Moses was born at an inconvenient time for Hebrew babies of the male gender. Pharaoh had decreed that they all should be killed. Moses' mother hid him for three months, but realized that she couldn't forever hide the fact that he was a boy. If they had been people of means, they might have paid somebody to spirit Moses out of Egypt. Then he could have at least lived out his life as a shepherd in some nearby desert. But Moses' folks are slaves and have no money, so Mom puts him in a waterproof basket and hides him in the reeds of the Nile River. And, miraculously, he is discovered and adopted by Pharaoh's daughter. Moses grows up in Pharaoh's own household. God had so much more planned than Moses' parents could ever have envisioned.
God orchestrates these improbable events so Moses could be in the perfect spot to deliver the Hebrew people out of slavery. But then, what happens next? Moses sees an Egyptian beating a Hebrew slave and in a moment of passionate fury kills him. Pharaoh gets wind of it and tries to kill Moses. So, Moses flees Egypt and becomes a shepherd in the nearby desert. He's right back where he was before God's miracle. In one foolish moment, Moses had completely spoiled God's plan.
And that's why the Hebrew people are still slaves in Egypt today.
Oh, now that you mention it, you're right, they're not. And that's the point. God never gave up on his plan. And, just as important, God didn't give up on Moses. Sure, he had to drag him in front of a burning bush to get his attention, but ultimately God accomplished his purpose. He brought Moses back to Egypt, and brought Israel out.
Maybe it was a lot tougher than it had to be. Maybe God wouldn't have had to use the plagues, or at least as many of them, if Moses had been on the right page from the beginning. Maybe the book of Exodus would have been a few chapters shorter. But at worst, Moses only complicated God's plan, he didn't ruin it. Despite Moses' best (worst?) efforts, God pulled it off. And he did it with Moses. God delivered Israel through Moses--and in spite of Moses.
That gives me hope.
If through ignorance, fear, or downright disobedience, I find myself at crossed purposes with God, he won't give up on me. If I'm willing to stand barefoot in front of the burning bush and get on the same page with him, he has the ability to bring about his plan.
With me and in spite of me.
That was the general direction I was heading in my prayers this morning when God, as he often does, led me to a Bible story. It was the story of Moses.
If you remember, Moses was born at an inconvenient time for Hebrew babies of the male gender. Pharaoh had decreed that they all should be killed. Moses' mother hid him for three months, but realized that she couldn't forever hide the fact that he was a boy. If they had been people of means, they might have paid somebody to spirit Moses out of Egypt. Then he could have at least lived out his life as a shepherd in some nearby desert. But Moses' folks are slaves and have no money, so Mom puts him in a waterproof basket and hides him in the reeds of the Nile River. And, miraculously, he is discovered and adopted by Pharaoh's daughter. Moses grows up in Pharaoh's own household. God had so much more planned than Moses' parents could ever have envisioned.
God orchestrates these improbable events so Moses could be in the perfect spot to deliver the Hebrew people out of slavery. But then, what happens next? Moses sees an Egyptian beating a Hebrew slave and in a moment of passionate fury kills him. Pharaoh gets wind of it and tries to kill Moses. So, Moses flees Egypt and becomes a shepherd in the nearby desert. He's right back where he was before God's miracle. In one foolish moment, Moses had completely spoiled God's plan.
And that's why the Hebrew people are still slaves in Egypt today.
Oh, now that you mention it, you're right, they're not. And that's the point. God never gave up on his plan. And, just as important, God didn't give up on Moses. Sure, he had to drag him in front of a burning bush to get his attention, but ultimately God accomplished his purpose. He brought Moses back to Egypt, and brought Israel out.
Maybe it was a lot tougher than it had to be. Maybe God wouldn't have had to use the plagues, or at least as many of them, if Moses had been on the right page from the beginning. Maybe the book of Exodus would have been a few chapters shorter. But at worst, Moses only complicated God's plan, he didn't ruin it. Despite Moses' best (worst?) efforts, God pulled it off. And he did it with Moses. God delivered Israel through Moses--and in spite of Moses.
That gives me hope.
If through ignorance, fear, or downright disobedience, I find myself at crossed purposes with God, he won't give up on me. If I'm willing to stand barefoot in front of the burning bush and get on the same page with him, he has the ability to bring about his plan.
With me and in spite of me.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Satisfied
Sorry it's been so long since my last post. I went to Indiana for a wedding and there was no internet available at the house where we were staying. The fireflies were incredible, though. And now I am house-sitting for a friend, and you guessed it, no internet. I'm having to spend more time at coffee houses with free Wi-fi.
when we were in Indiana we had an delightful experience. The wedding was in Middlebury, and the area around there is Amish country. My sister (mother of the groom) arranged for a few of us to take a ride in an Amish buggy. The couple who were to be our hosts are friends of the mother of the bride.
Mose and Etta are humble gracious people who greeted us and welcomed us into their home as if we were old friends of the family. We sat around their kitchen table drinking coffee and talking. Incidentally, the coffee was brewed in a Mr. Coffee machine made to operate on a propane stove rather than by electricity. All the lights in the house were propane fixtures that looked like turbo-charged Coleman lanterns.
When we first sat down, Mose (short for Moses) wanted to relieve any apprehension we might have about discussing their lifestyle, so he said, "now don't be afraid to ask us anything. We'll be glad to answer. You won't offend us."
So, I did. And true to their word, they were open and informative about their life and beliefs. Above all, they were gracious.
I have read quite extensively about the Amish. Most things I have read were pretty accurate about how they lived, but they tended to describe an aloof, legalistic people who are bound by restrictive rules and an overbearing church. I don't know about the Amish in general, but that was far from the case with Mose and Etta. They were warm hosts who laughed easily and made us feel at ease. They describe a simple life that they loved--a life they felt called to. They spoke of a faith that was based on a relationship with Christ not earned by living according to a code.
Most of all, what I sensed from Mose and Etta was two people who were content, satisfied and secure in the life they had chosen. Up until a few weeks before, Mose had work for an RV manufacturer as many of the Amish men in the area do. The present gas prices have crippled the industry. When it appeared layoffs were inevitable, Mose went to his supervisor and said, "before you lay off anyone with a family, lay me off first. We have no bills, we have a good garden. God will care for us and we'll be fine."
I had to ask myself what I would have done. Mose and Etta live simply from day to day. They have no expectations of material goods or a certain standard of living. What God brings them they accept with gratitude. By the time we left I almost wanted to be Amish. Not because it is some kind of romantic lifestyle, but because I envied Mose and Etta's contentment. For all the goods and comforts we have, I have Never met anyone in my culture as content as they were. Their faith and lifestyle was attractive because they didn't just talk about trusting God and being content, they lived it and it seeped out of their very pores.
I wonder how I would affect the people around me if I was like that.
when we were in Indiana we had an delightful experience. The wedding was in Middlebury, and the area around there is Amish country. My sister (mother of the groom) arranged for a few of us to take a ride in an Amish buggy. The couple who were to be our hosts are friends of the mother of the bride.
Mose and Etta are humble gracious people who greeted us and welcomed us into their home as if we were old friends of the family. We sat around their kitchen table drinking coffee and talking. Incidentally, the coffee was brewed in a Mr. Coffee machine made to operate on a propane stove rather than by electricity. All the lights in the house were propane fixtures that looked like turbo-charged Coleman lanterns.
When we first sat down, Mose (short for Moses) wanted to relieve any apprehension we might have about discussing their lifestyle, so he said, "now don't be afraid to ask us anything. We'll be glad to answer. You won't offend us."
So, I did. And true to their word, they were open and informative about their life and beliefs. Above all, they were gracious.
I have read quite extensively about the Amish. Most things I have read were pretty accurate about how they lived, but they tended to describe an aloof, legalistic people who are bound by restrictive rules and an overbearing church. I don't know about the Amish in general, but that was far from the case with Mose and Etta. They were warm hosts who laughed easily and made us feel at ease. They describe a simple life that they loved--a life they felt called to. They spoke of a faith that was based on a relationship with Christ not earned by living according to a code.
Most of all, what I sensed from Mose and Etta was two people who were content, satisfied and secure in the life they had chosen. Up until a few weeks before, Mose had work for an RV manufacturer as many of the Amish men in the area do. The present gas prices have crippled the industry. When it appeared layoffs were inevitable, Mose went to his supervisor and said, "before you lay off anyone with a family, lay me off first. We have no bills, we have a good garden. God will care for us and we'll be fine."
I had to ask myself what I would have done. Mose and Etta live simply from day to day. They have no expectations of material goods or a certain standard of living. What God brings them they accept with gratitude. By the time we left I almost wanted to be Amish. Not because it is some kind of romantic lifestyle, but because I envied Mose and Etta's contentment. For all the goods and comforts we have, I have Never met anyone in my culture as content as they were. Their faith and lifestyle was attractive because they didn't just talk about trusting God and being content, they lived it and it seeped out of their very pores.
I wonder how I would affect the people around me if I was like that.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Prejudice
I wonder how much prejudice affects what we experience, participate in and see in our spiritual life. I'm not talking necessarily about racial prejudice, I'm talking more generally--about premature judgements made upon first impressions.
I traveled home to Mariposa this weekend and rode the train back to Portland. I boarded the train in Sacramento at about midnight Sunday evening. I was assigned a seat on the isle in the front of the car. A guy much younger than myself was asleep in the window seat.
I put my backpack in the overhead rack and did my best to make myself comfortable in the seat so I could sleep. The foot rest on my seat was broken and would not come up all the way. That gave my chair the effective shape of a ski jump. I spent the first hour or so sliding down the ski jump and then pushing myself back to the top.
I finally gave up and decided to lower the foot rest and try sleeping with out it. By this time I was pretty grumpy and primed to indulge in a little prejudice. I attempted to lower the foot rest but an obstruction blocked it. I raised it back up and felt around on the floor. There was a cardboard food caddy with an empty sandwich wrapper, juice bottle and french fry bag under my seat. There was a trash receptacle within two steps of our seats. I immediately assumed that this guy next to me was one of those self-absorbed kids who assumed it was someone else's job to clean up after him.
grumbling, I tossed the trash and lowered the footrest.
At a few minutes before six, I woke to the silhouette of Mt. Shasta as the sun began to glow through the window. I almost missed the beauty of it because I was ready for another helping of prejudice. I was too uncomfortable to sleep any longer, but my seat mate was still slumbering contentedly. I decided that he had never crawled out of his sleep number bed before 10 AM in his life and his body was just reacting out of habit. I noticed the tag above his seat indicated that he was bound for Kalamath Falls. I consoled myself that he was getting off in a couple of hours.
I went to the lounge car and grabbed some coffee. When I got back, I pulled out my Bible and started reading (I know, that picture embarrasses me, too). After a while, my traveling companion awoke. I expected him to pull out his ipod and cell phone and start texting away, but instead he gazed out the window for a while as I read. After a few minutes he adjusted the curtain. The movement caused me to look up from my reading. He smiled and said, "I noticed the sun was in your eyes." (I know, I should just label myself a jerk right now and end this post. And no, the Bible did not burst into flames in my lap).
We introduced ourselves and began to talk. I enjoyed one of the most engaging and interesting conversations I've had in a long time. Come to find out, my friend had graduated from University of Washington and then had spent two years in the Peace Corps. While in the Peace Corps he lived in Tanzania and taught there. He was preparing to start graduate work that would better prepare him to make a difference in lives of people like the ones he had learned to love in Tanzania. He didn't even own an ipod or cell phone because he said they take your attention away from the people around you. I was greatly disappointed when he detrained in Kalamath. I put on my mp3 player and texted Debi.
If I had let my prejudices run the show, I would have missed meeting an amazing person. But, what if I take that a step further? I wonder how many times God has placed people, or opportunities, or blessings in my life and I ignored them or avoided them or failed to explore them because that first impression birthed prejudices that hid what was really there?
Do I habitually prejudice myself out of what God has for me? I hate to think....
I traveled home to Mariposa this weekend and rode the train back to Portland. I boarded the train in Sacramento at about midnight Sunday evening. I was assigned a seat on the isle in the front of the car. A guy much younger than myself was asleep in the window seat.
I put my backpack in the overhead rack and did my best to make myself comfortable in the seat so I could sleep. The foot rest on my seat was broken and would not come up all the way. That gave my chair the effective shape of a ski jump. I spent the first hour or so sliding down the ski jump and then pushing myself back to the top.
I finally gave up and decided to lower the foot rest and try sleeping with out it. By this time I was pretty grumpy and primed to indulge in a little prejudice. I attempted to lower the foot rest but an obstruction blocked it. I raised it back up and felt around on the floor. There was a cardboard food caddy with an empty sandwich wrapper, juice bottle and french fry bag under my seat. There was a trash receptacle within two steps of our seats. I immediately assumed that this guy next to me was one of those self-absorbed kids who assumed it was someone else's job to clean up after him.
grumbling, I tossed the trash and lowered the footrest.
At a few minutes before six, I woke to the silhouette of Mt. Shasta as the sun began to glow through the window. I almost missed the beauty of it because I was ready for another helping of prejudice. I was too uncomfortable to sleep any longer, but my seat mate was still slumbering contentedly. I decided that he had never crawled out of his sleep number bed before 10 AM in his life and his body was just reacting out of habit. I noticed the tag above his seat indicated that he was bound for Kalamath Falls. I consoled myself that he was getting off in a couple of hours.
I went to the lounge car and grabbed some coffee. When I got back, I pulled out my Bible and started reading (I know, that picture embarrasses me, too). After a while, my traveling companion awoke. I expected him to pull out his ipod and cell phone and start texting away, but instead he gazed out the window for a while as I read. After a few minutes he adjusted the curtain. The movement caused me to look up from my reading. He smiled and said, "I noticed the sun was in your eyes." (I know, I should just label myself a jerk right now and end this post. And no, the Bible did not burst into flames in my lap).
We introduced ourselves and began to talk. I enjoyed one of the most engaging and interesting conversations I've had in a long time. Come to find out, my friend had graduated from University of Washington and then had spent two years in the Peace Corps. While in the Peace Corps he lived in Tanzania and taught there. He was preparing to start graduate work that would better prepare him to make a difference in lives of people like the ones he had learned to love in Tanzania. He didn't even own an ipod or cell phone because he said they take your attention away from the people around you. I was greatly disappointed when he detrained in Kalamath. I put on my mp3 player and texted Debi.
If I had let my prejudices run the show, I would have missed meeting an amazing person. But, what if I take that a step further? I wonder how many times God has placed people, or opportunities, or blessings in my life and I ignored them or avoided them or failed to explore them because that first impression birthed prejudices that hid what was really there?
Do I habitually prejudice myself out of what God has for me? I hate to think....
Monday, June 9, 2008
How pure is pure?
"Blessed are the pure in heart for they will see God."
Matthew 5:8
"Purity of heart is to will one thing."
Soren Kierkegaard
Sometimes I have to admit I don't think things through when it comes to following Jesus. I read things like those written above and I think, "that is what I want." But later, maybe much later I realize there are significant ramifications to being "pure in heart" and "willing one thing."
Yesterday I was reading Ezekiel 24. It is an amazing story, but I doubt it is in anyone's top 10 Bible stories list. In the story, God tells Ezekiel his wife is going to die. God goes on to instruct Ezekiel not to mourn for her, but to use the experience as an object lesson--a sermon illustration--for the people.
Okay, let's just stop here for a minute. Is that God's definition of purity of heart? Was Paul that serious when he said in Philippians 3, "I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ"?
In a religious culture were we are taught that faith is believing that God will give us everything we need (and most things we want), are we to understand that being pure in heart may mean giving up everything, EVERYTHING, to follow Jesus?
In this process of moving to Portland, our house in Mariposa has been sold and then not sold more than once. Friends tell us, "you're doing what God called you to do, he will take care of the house." Is that the only option the Bible presents? Is purity of heart believing that God will take care of the sale of the house before its to late, or can it mean that there is a possibility that our house will become Ezekiel's wife? Is it conceivable that God could ultimately ask us to give up our house, and everything we've invested in it to follow him? Is the house and our possessions that go with it a threat to our purity of heart? Is purity of heart trusting God even if the worst happens? Should we believe that the worst we can conceive is what God considers best for us? Did Ezekiel believe that as he watched his wife dying?
I have to confess I'm struggling with this. It's not that I don't want to be that pure in heart, it's that I am afraid. I understand that whatever God does is best and I should be willing to entrust myself to him. But my heart wonders how far he will take that. Did Ezekiel feel blindsided? I'm not sure I can make the commitment Ezekeil did. My humanity fights against it. My one hope is that Paul was also serious when he said that our very faith is a gift of God.
I'm not ready to be that pure in heart, yet. But I want to be that ready, so that is where I have to start. I lay my "want to" on the altar before God and trust that when the time comes for him to ask extraordinary things of me, he will give me the extraordinary faith to walk through it.
God is not fluff. Just ask Ezekiel.
Matthew 5:8
"Purity of heart is to will one thing."
Soren Kierkegaard
Sometimes I have to admit I don't think things through when it comes to following Jesus. I read things like those written above and I think, "that is what I want." But later, maybe much later I realize there are significant ramifications to being "pure in heart" and "willing one thing."
Yesterday I was reading Ezekiel 24. It is an amazing story, but I doubt it is in anyone's top 10 Bible stories list. In the story, God tells Ezekiel his wife is going to die. God goes on to instruct Ezekiel not to mourn for her, but to use the experience as an object lesson--a sermon illustration--for the people.
Okay, let's just stop here for a minute. Is that God's definition of purity of heart? Was Paul that serious when he said in Philippians 3, "I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ"?
In a religious culture were we are taught that faith is believing that God will give us everything we need (and most things we want), are we to understand that being pure in heart may mean giving up everything, EVERYTHING, to follow Jesus?
In this process of moving to Portland, our house in Mariposa has been sold and then not sold more than once. Friends tell us, "you're doing what God called you to do, he will take care of the house." Is that the only option the Bible presents? Is purity of heart believing that God will take care of the sale of the house before its to late, or can it mean that there is a possibility that our house will become Ezekiel's wife? Is it conceivable that God could ultimately ask us to give up our house, and everything we've invested in it to follow him? Is the house and our possessions that go with it a threat to our purity of heart? Is purity of heart trusting God even if the worst happens? Should we believe that the worst we can conceive is what God considers best for us? Did Ezekiel believe that as he watched his wife dying?
I have to confess I'm struggling with this. It's not that I don't want to be that pure in heart, it's that I am afraid. I understand that whatever God does is best and I should be willing to entrust myself to him. But my heart wonders how far he will take that. Did Ezekiel feel blindsided? I'm not sure I can make the commitment Ezekeil did. My humanity fights against it. My one hope is that Paul was also serious when he said that our very faith is a gift of God.
I'm not ready to be that pure in heart, yet. But I want to be that ready, so that is where I have to start. I lay my "want to" on the altar before God and trust that when the time comes for him to ask extraordinary things of me, he will give me the extraordinary faith to walk through it.
God is not fluff. Just ask Ezekiel.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Using our heads--too much?
How comfortable are you with prayer?
The other day I was watching the movie Finding Forrester. In that film, Sean Connery plays a Pulitzer Prize winning author, William Forrester, who is mentoring a 16 year old boy named Jamal. He instructs Jamal to sit down at the typewriter and write. Jamal sits down and stares at the keys.
William asks Jamal if there is a problem. He responds, "No, I'm just thinking."
William responds, "No thinking, just write." He continues, "You write the first draft with your heart. You rewrite with your head."
The lesson is that if you focus too much on how you want to say something, it is easy to lose track of what you wanted to say. Have you ever written something and realize that it didn't sound anything like it did in your head? Forrester would say that you let your head in the process too soon.
I think it's easy to do the same thing with prayer. I wonder if the average Christian is over-taught when it comes to prayer. It has become a formal style of communication like writing a business letter (you have to use the right format, language, punctuation, etc.), rather than an intimate form of communication like conversation.
I think prayer is a gift God gave us so we can engage with him in the process of figuring life out. The psalms are a good example. In fact, they are both good prayer and good writing. They continue to connect with people centuries after they were written because they live at gut level. The psalmist's heart got to pray what it meant before his head started tinkering with it.
The risk I can see in praying my first draft with my heart is that I might discover what I really think and feel rather than what I believe I ought to think and feel. That is a little frightening. But the reward might just be that I also begin to discover what God is actually thinking and feeling.
That sounds suspiciously like a conversation.
The other day I was watching the movie Finding Forrester. In that film, Sean Connery plays a Pulitzer Prize winning author, William Forrester, who is mentoring a 16 year old boy named Jamal. He instructs Jamal to sit down at the typewriter and write. Jamal sits down and stares at the keys.
William asks Jamal if there is a problem. He responds, "No, I'm just thinking."
William responds, "No thinking, just write." He continues, "You write the first draft with your heart. You rewrite with your head."
The lesson is that if you focus too much on how you want to say something, it is easy to lose track of what you wanted to say. Have you ever written something and realize that it didn't sound anything like it did in your head? Forrester would say that you let your head in the process too soon.
I think it's easy to do the same thing with prayer. I wonder if the average Christian is over-taught when it comes to prayer. It has become a formal style of communication like writing a business letter (you have to use the right format, language, punctuation, etc.), rather than an intimate form of communication like conversation.
I think prayer is a gift God gave us so we can engage with him in the process of figuring life out. The psalms are a good example. In fact, they are both good prayer and good writing. They continue to connect with people centuries after they were written because they live at gut level. The psalmist's heart got to pray what it meant before his head started tinkering with it.
The risk I can see in praying my first draft with my heart is that I might discover what I really think and feel rather than what I believe I ought to think and feel. That is a little frightening. But the reward might just be that I also begin to discover what God is actually thinking and feeling.
That sounds suspiciously like a conversation.
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