A Way to Pray

Ideally, prayer is a way for us to let go of all the things that constantly race through our minds and clutch our hearts with fear, uncertainty, and anxiety.  Of course, prayer can also be just another way for us to talk to ourselves and ingrain with even more cement the things that worry us.  When we "talk at" God, we are still in control, asking Him to arrange things our way.  But Prayer can also be a way of just piling up at His feet all of our daily burdens and letting go of them for a time.

Prayer can be a way for us to come to really know Jesus, God-who-is-with-us, Who entered the world we live in once only to enter it again and again with every one of us who welcomes Him into our world of uncertainty and anxiety.  He says in Rev. 3:20:  Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone will open to me, I will come in and dine with him and he with me. 

We never "dine" with those who are not our friends.  We may be forced at a wedding or at Thanksgiving or at a family meal to sit at the same table with people we can't stand, but we don't "invite them into" our hearts and minds; we don't really "dine" with them.  If Jesus is knocking at the door of our lives today, we may be embarrassed to open the door and allow Him to see the mess inside our houses, our minds and hearts.  If we are embarrassed enough, we may tell Him He can't come in today, but maybe after we've cleaned up.  But when does that ever happen?  Are we ever "ready" to open the door?  And won't He know that we have not really cleaned up, but just hidden the mess where it is not obvious to the casual observer?

How do we ever really get ourselves ready to "dine" with Jesus?  To allow Him to sit at our kitchen table, despite the clutter and the clatter of our daily lives?  How do we learn to let go of our idea of what we (our homes) should look like enough to really be open to His Person and Presence in our lives?

When Jesus says, "I will come in and dine with him, and he with me," He is not speaking poetically--every word has specific meaning.  It is a matter of who is the host and who is the guest.  When He "sits down" at our table, He willingly and graciously partakes of our daily fare -- the burdens of caring for an elderly parent while trying to raise teenagers and holding down a 9-to-5 job; the worry of having cancer or of not having a job to support one's family; the daily dealing with an alcholic spouse....  He enters into that mess of our lives with everything that John says about Him:  The true light that gives light to every man [is]coming into the world....from the fullness of His grace, we have all received one blessing after another...God, the only Son, who is at the Father's side, has made / [is making] Him known.

But allowing Jesus to enter the mess of our lives and to sit at our table and eat of our daily fare, embarrassing though it may be, also opens the door for us into His life, allowing us to sit at His table and to partake of the food He prepares for us---the food of peace, of joy, of solutions to impossible situations, of power coming down from above.  He became incarnate of Mary so that He could walk with us, among us, in us, so that He could also become incarnate in us, to bring us complete and whole to the Father.  Only He can manage our lives.  Why do we keep closing the door and telling him we're doing fine, when we and He both know we're not managing very well at all?

Maybe we just don't know Him.  Maybe we think He would not really want us as friends, as intimates.  Maybe we think we are supposed to be able to manage things better than we are doing.  Maybe we are just afraid to let go because we think we are supposed to be in control.  When we finally admit that we cannot, do not, manage things, that we are overwhelmed, that we need help; when we finally give up our illusion that we can do better, that is when we finally open the door and allow Him to enter.  Prayer can be just 'giving up' the pretense that we are the people we want to be, the people we think we should be.

I've never seen Hoarding: Buried Alive, but I used to watch the pre-curser, the HGTV show where a professional organizer would come in and help ordinary people sort out and organize their clutter. (I don't remember what the show was called.)  I just remember the three piles: throw away, donate or sell, and keep.  People like myself who just couldn't decide on their own what to do with "stuff" were directed by a stronger wisdom and power to make basic decisions on what they could live without and what needed to stay.  What stayed was given a pleasing and effective space, so that the whole family could "breathe" again instead of having their lives taken over by useless clutter. 

When we finally "get over" our embarrassment, and allow Jesus to enter our lives, we can begin to relax.  Yes, it is a mess -- that is the human condition.  We are no better or worse than anyone else; we, like everyone else, are just pretending that we're in control of the situation. Once we're comfortable with His Presence in our lives, once we're not embarrassed any long by our failures, once we can allow Jesus to see what we really do and "eat" on a daily basis, and once we give Him permission to take over and re-arrange things, we can relax and let Him do what we cannot do for ourselves. 

Here I am, Lord; you see what my life is like.  What do you want to do with it?  I surrender it to you, and I am willing for you to take charge and make whatever changes are necessary.  You just tell me what you want to do, and I will do it.

We tend to think that when we get to that point, He will lay on us a heavier burden, one that we will not be able to perform.  If we think that way, it is just because we do not yet know Him -- His hospitality, His gracious kindness and compassion for us.  What will He say to us, but, "Come, sit down and rest for awhile; eat the food I give you; sleep.  When you awake refreshed, we can begin."  He is the perfect host; He sees to everything we need.  When He has fed us, made us sleep in peace, and fed us again, He pours into us His own strength to face our lives.  When He has assured us that He will not leave us or abandon us, we know we don't have to be strong or perfect or wise enough.  He is Emmanuel, God with us.  What more do we need?

In the Gospel, the Roman centurian said, "Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof...say but the word, and my child will be healed."  We can also acknowledge that we are not "ready" for Him to enter our homes, our lives, but allow Him to come anyway.  Like the people whose lives were transformed by the professional organizers, we will never be sorry that we opened the door to Jesus Christ and allowed him to enter our lives:  Come, Lord Jesus!