Archives For prayer

Psalm 23 Re-Mix

samuel kee —  October 23, 2012 — 2 Comments

We can pray this:

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures.

He leads me beside still waters.

He restores my soul.

He leads me in paths of righteousness

for his name’s sake.

Even though I walk through the valley

of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil,

for you are with me;

your rod and your staff,

they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me

in the presence of my enemies;

you anoint my head with oil;

my cup overflows.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me

all the days of my life,

and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord

forever.

Because he went through this:

The Lord was my shepherd; but now I’m bankrupt.

He makes me lie down on a red cross.

He leads me into raging waters.

He vanquished my soul.

He leads me in paths of iniquity

for his name’s sake.

Even though I walk through death itself,

and am horrified of evil,

for you have abandoned me;

your rod and staff,

they crush me.

You prepare a tomb for me

in the presence of my friends;

you anoint my body with myrrh and aloes;

the cup of your wrath overflowed.

Surely sin and judgment followed me

all the days of my life,

so that they might dwell in the house of the Lord

forever.

© Samuel Kee, 2012

The ground between the two armies grew less every moment. Faster, faster. All swords out now, all shields up to the nose, all prayers said, all teeth clenched. Shasta was dreadfully frightened. But it suddenly came into his head, If you funk this, you’ll funk every battle all your life. Now or never.

(from The Horse and His Boy by C. S. Lewis)

The ground between the tw…

The Lotus Eaters

samuel kee —  July 20, 2012 — Leave a comment

In Homer’s Odyssey, Odysseus and his men struggle on a journey to get home to Ithaca.  They fight a raging sea storm for over a week and finally prevail.  Accidently, they land on a leafy green island.  Odysseus sends out three of his men to explore the beautiful island, while the rest wait in the boats.  When the three men do not return for some time, Odysseus goes out to find them.  He comes upon some gorgeous islanders, who offer him their finest food to eat, which are Lotus flowers.  As Odysseus is putting the flowers to his mouth eat—for he was starving—he catches sight of his three men.  They are lying on the ground with dreamy smiles on their faces.  He wonders why his men look so strange.  The islanders tell Odysseus that they have been eating the Lotus flowers, which have the magical power of forgetfulness.  If you eat them, you’ll be able to forget about your past, including all the pains and trials that you’ve been through.  You’ll simply live in the magic of the present, without a care in the world.  Again, the beautiful women of the island offer their flowers to Odysseus, so that he, too, can forget the misery of his past.  But Odysseus refuses the flowers; in fact, he’s outraged.  “What!” he screams in anger.  “Forget the past?  Forget my home?  Forget my friends and family?  Never!”  He then quickly snatches away his three men and forces them to board his ship.  The Lotus eaters, once mighty Greek warriors, begin to weep like babies, crying out, “Let us stay here and eat flowers forever!”

Odysseus had a chance to forget about all the pain in his life, but he didn’t take it.  Why?  Because he did not want to lose the memory of his home.  He did not want to forget where he came from, who he was, whom he loved, and who loved him.  The flowers would cause him to forget not only where he came from, but also where he was going.

I find this extremely profound.  The Lotus flowers have not gone away, nor have the Lotus eaters.  We have forgotten about our home.  Our home is not in Ithaca or Akron or Accra, but it is deeper and longer and more satisfying.  Our true home is Heaven, where God dwells.  He is our home and our odyssey is to return to him.  Along the way, we fight storms and monsters, on the one hand; we also fight Lotus flowers, on the other hand.  The Lotus flowers are the magical things in our lives that are causing us to forget about our true home in Heaven.  They cause us to forget about our true Lover, who waits for us.  They cause us to forget about who we are, where we belong, and where we’ve come from.  We forget that we are on a journey, an odyssey, back to God.  So we stretch out on the leafy green island of our present preoccupations, wishing to stay forever.

Life intoxicates us, weaves a magical spell on us, and paralyzes us.  Our Lotus flowers keep us chained to the present, to pleasure, to what we can see and taste and touch.  Our flowers block our ability to recognize that we’re Greek Warriors, made for so much more.  We forget that there are storms to fight, wars to wage, people to rescue, and a kingdom to be built.  Most of all, there’s a home that is waiting for us, in the joy of our Maker, from where we came.

Think about this.  Prayer is one way that we can visit our home in Heaven, along the way.  When you’re in the thick of it, when the flowers are beginning to weave their spell, pray.  Prayer will bring you back to God, so that you can spend just a little time at home, before heading back out to the ship.  Prayer is the anecdote to the Lotus flowers, in other words.  It grounds you, roots you, and snatches you from the temptation of the islanders.

What are the Lotus flowers in your life?  What is pulling you away from God, causing you to forget that you belong to him?  Numbing your ability to recall that you are loved by him?  That he is waiting at home for you?  That is keeping you from being a Greek Warrior today?

© Samuel Kee, 2012

My friend Brandon and I are in leadership at my church.  Once some members came to us and said that they had some problems with the way we were doing things; so they wanted to talk with us about it.  Brandon, who is a captain in the Army, responded quickly and firmly, “Don’t just come with the problems, come with the solutions!”  To their credit, they did.

I just read this amazing episode in the book of Judges in the Bible.  In chapter 6, we read that the Israelites were getting hammered by the Midianites.  An angel of the Lord appears to a guy named Gideon in order to encourage him.  But Gideon gives a response that often echoes in all of our hearts, “Please, sir, if the Lord is with us, why then has all this happened to us?” (Judges 6:13).

We first need to take time to allow his honest question the right to search our hearts.  His is a question that grows within us all, like a wall that eventually blocks our view of God.  We wonder what God is doing about our pain, about the suffering in this world, about the trials we’re enduring.  “Why has all this happened to us?”  Give yourself the freedom of owning that question for yourself.

Then God responded to Gideon most unexpectedly, “Go in this might of yours and save Israel from the hand of Midian; do not I send you?” (Judges 6:14).  The wonder of this exchange is breathtaking.  Basically, Gideon tries to shove the blame onto God, but then God gives the opportunity to Gideon.  Gideon wants to know “why?” and God answers with “how.”  God wants to make a warrior out of Gideon.

We assume that the problem is God’s, but God lets us know that the answer is ours.  But we’re not to worry, for God will be with us.  “And the Lord turned to him and said, ‘But I will be with you.’” (Judges 6:16).  This passage opened my eyes to a brilliant truth and I hope it does the same for you.  When I am bemoaning, “Why has all this happened to me?”  God gently reminds me, “Don’t forget, you can do something about this, too, you know.”

Instead of bemoaning God’s seeming lack of involvement, go yourself and get to work on the situation.  Pray the whole time, “God, be with me as I go, walk me through this.”  Be like young David hunting down the giant with only a sling shot and a prayer.

We are so weak, self-centered, and childish.  We force solutions on God that we are capable of achieving with his help.  Do you realize that?  When I am busy ranting to God about how life is turning out, he turns to me and says, “Why don’t you get up off your big, fat couch and get to work?  Did you forget that you can do amazing things with my help?”

May we get off the bench and get into the game, where he can best coach us.  Take an inventory of your present grudge list, the one you use against God, if you know what I mean.  Look at that list and see each item as opportunities that you could accomplish.  God says to us, “You go in this might of yours and save the situation; do I not send you?”  We come to God with our problems, but he says to us, “Don’t just come with problems, but also with solutions.”  We forget how capable we are, with God’s help.

Nonetheless, there are situations that are way out of our control or power zone.  But we’re not off the hook, yet.  When it seems like there is absolutely nothing for you to do, there is an artillery of special significance.  This artillery is prayer and fasting.  Doing these two things are the missiles that will send the enemy sinking, that will call down the fire from Heaven, that will enlist the Most High God in your battle.  Never shrug your shoulders and say that you can do nothing.  Put on the full armor of God (Ephesians 6:10-18), get into the battle, and pray.

Rethink your troubles, for you are capable of much more than you realize.  The answer to your prayer might be that God wants to make a warrior out of you.

© Samuel Kee, 2012

Warrior

samuel kee —  February 23, 2012 — Leave a comment

We are not fighting for him, but he is fighting for us.

Here’s a paragraph from a devotional book I’m writing; this is on John 17 through 18.  Let me know what you think!

These two chapters of Scripture are aching for us to see that Jesus is King.  We realize this as we overhear Jesus pleading with his Father in prayer.  For what does he plead?  For safety?  For deliverance?  For self-fulfillment and happiness?  No.  Jesus pleads as a Warrior for all of his followers, both present and future.  He longs for his followers to see him for whom he really is, God and King (17:24).  He longs for his followers to be one with each other (17:11).  He longs for his followers to know the Father’s love (17:26), especially as they face trials (17:15).  When Pilate asks Jesus about his kingdom, Jesus responds, “My kingdom is not of this world.  If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have been fighting, that I might not be delivered over to the Jews.” (18:36).  That’s why Jesus quells the efforts of Peter to defend him.  Jesus rebukes Peter for using his sword to fight against the soldiers (18:10-11).  If Jesus’ kingdom were of this world, then he would welcome Peter’s efforts.  Instead, Jesus points us to a breathtaking truth: since Jesus’ kingdom is not of this world, he fights for us, and not the reverse.  Were it of this world, then he would welcome us to fight; but since it’s from another world, Jesus is the only one who can fight.  We are not fighting for him, but he is fighting for us.  He is taking care of us; we don’t take care of him.  That’s why he pleads for us in prayer in chapter 17.  By doing so, he is fighting for us.  His prayers for you are his sword.  While we fail at the front lines like Peter (18:15-18; 25-26), Jesus heads courageously to death for us.  He is fighting for our entrance into his world with his Father, one that swarms with love and joy and glory (17:26).

© Samuel Kee, 2012

Barth and Prayer

samuel kee —  February 7, 2012 — Leave a comment

Our noble calling as humans, is to participate in God's cause.

I’m reading Karl Barth’s little book on prayer; I came across this provoking thought:

In Jesus Christ, God has manifested himself as a God who, while being perfectly free and self-sufficient, yet does not wish to be alone.  He does not wish to act, exist, live, labor, work, strive, vanquish, reign, and triumph without the human race.  God does not wish, then, for his cause to be his alone; he wishes it to be ours as well.  

Barth agrees that God is self-sufficient; God did not create humans because of a lack in himself, in order to quench his divine distress or loneliness.  Neither was God somehow forced to created humans, by a greater power.  God is completely free and has no needs, neither does he have superiors.  When he created humans, he did so out of complete fullness, rather than lack.

He created us out of love, in other words.  He created beings to share his cause with, because he did not wish to be alone in it.  What is God’s cause?  God’s cause is the spread of his name, his kingdom, and his will, as Barth deduces from the first three petitions of the Lord’s Prayer.  God did not wish to be alone in his cause; he wished it to be ours, as well.

Our noble calling as humans is to participate in God’s cause.  Within his cause, we find fulfillment.  As we cherish his name, acknowledging his presence and our dependence, his cause abounds.  As we sculpt this world into shape, turning wrongs into rights, and making the ugly bits beautiful, his cause abounds. As we give living performance to his heart’s will for justice and mercy and righteousness, his cause abounds.  And when his cause abounds, our satisfaction with life abounds, for we’re functioning in the ways that our Maker intended.

Living for our own name, our own kingdom, and our own will, is self-destructive.  Putting the human cause at the center causes us to implode.

But Barth goes on to acknowledge the rest of the Lord’s Prayer, which includes petitions for the “human” cause: daily bread, forgiveness, and deliverance from evil.  The Lord’s Prayer, while champing God’s cause first as foremost, does not hesitate joining it to the human cause.  We first are called to participate in God’s cause; then he participates in ours.  God and humans live life together.  Humans are not to live atheistically; God does not live humanlessly.

Today, my job is simple: I am to live for God’s cause.  Today, God’s job is simple: take care of me.  My cause becomes utterly glorious, his cause utterly loving.

© Samuel Kee, 2012

Spotlight

samuel kee —  June 27, 2011 — 3 Comments

Make him the most noticeable thing in the room.

After praying together before bed, one of my kids asked me, “What does ‘hallowed be your name’ mean?”  I took one of his stuffed animals and put it on the floor.  Then I turned off the light and asked for a flashlight.  Shinning the light on the stuffed sheep, I said, “Let’s pretend that the sheep is God.  ‘Hallowed be your name’ means to put a spot light on God.”

It’s to draw attention to God and to make him the most noticeable thing in the room.  “Sometimes” I told him, “we like to put the spotlight on other things and make other things the most noticeable in our lives.  We don’t make God our focus.”

The first part of the Lord’s Prayer teaches us to make God the most important thing in our lives: to put the spotlight on him.  When the spotlight is not on God, then we see other things more than we see God.  We end up giving our hearts away to artificial gods, which is stuff in our lives that crush our spirits rather than mend them.

Artificial gods ball us up and kick us to the corner; they don’t care for us.  In fact, they absorb our lives from us.  Instead of helping us, they hurt us.  False gods take every last drop of our lives, for they depend on our meager offerings to keep them going.  They are like leaches, who suck the life blood right from under our skin.

But the true God doesn’t take our life, he gives us his life.  He does not take our blood, but gives us his blood.  He does not depend on our offerings, but he keeps us going with his.  When we shine the light on God, we’re better able to see where our help comes from.

God does not demand that we glorify him because he’s arrogant; rather, God demands that we glorify him so that everyone might know where to run for living water.  Just as a lighthouse wants to be noticed, in the same way does God want to be noticed: to prevent us from crashing our lives on the rocks.

“Our Father, in Heaven, hallowed be your name.”  To pray this is like asking for more air, more water, and more food—for we’re asking for more of God in our lives and less of the things that often take his place.  And nothing can take his place.

© Samuel Kee, 2011

War

samuel kee —  June 5, 2011 — Leave a comment

Now is the time to get out of the war with God.

“Jesus was God’s answer to the human dilemma” (Ajith Fernando).  Jesus was/is perfect.  He’s exactly what we need.  We need someone who could stand in the gap for us, in our impossible situation.

We had declared war on God: that was our problem.  When our ancestors chose to rebel against God’s rule, they chose to take up arms against him.  They wanted out of his kingdom and out from under his rule.  They wanted to rule themselves and set up their own kingdom where that could be possible.  The human kingdom is not passive, either, but aggressive.  It aggressively attacks the will and ways of the heavenly kingdom.  We want to be at the center of the cosmos; we want life to revolve around us and our desires.

We war for the rights to the center.

If you could see the spiritual realm, you would see the raging battle, as the enemies of God relentlessly attack God’s kingdom and purposes.  The enemies fight for rights, not love, for glory, not submission.  The cataclysmic manifestations of our rebellion surface as molten physical disasters all over this earth, only to be echoed by equally devastating spiritual catastrophes.  Faith, relationships, emotions, and earth, are all wrecked, all casualties of our war with God.

Jesus knew full well what he was doing when he left his perfect union with God in order to come be with earth.  Jesus knew that he was stepping into a war; but that is what he came to do.  Jesus stepped into our shoes in order to end the war.  Jesus came in order to be the rebel in our place, to be the opposition.  He entered the war so that we could exit.  Once in battle, Jesus threw himself headlong against the armies of God, allowing himself to take the ensuing punishment of that position.

Jesus threw himself against his own Heavenly Father so that we could leave that status.  He became what we were—rebels—that we might become what he was: a child of God.  He was our bloody sacrifice, taking upon himself the full wrath of God that was destined for all of those at war with God.

Now is the time to get out of the war with God, to put up your arms in surrender.  Now is the time to stop fighting against him, since Jesus stands in the gap in your place.  Jesus has made the way out: he is indeed God’s perfect answer to the human dilemma.  God doesn’t want to be at war with us and that is why he sent his Son to end the war.  God loved the world so much that he sent his one and only Son, so that whoever relies on him might not be destroyed, but have eternal life.

The crux of the Christian life is humble submission to the will of God.  The Christian seeks to obey God, not fight against him.  The Christian knows that God is for us, not against us, for Jesus has ended the war.  Therefore, the Christian knows that God’s purposes will be for our good, rather than for our ruin.  The Christian trusts that God’s ways are not breaking our relationship with him, but, in fact, are doing the opposite.  Whether we realize it or not, the things that God allows in our lives draw us closer to him and mend the old battle scars.

In other words, when God answers your prayer, it is for your healing; when God doesn’t answer your prayer as you’d like, it is also for your healing.  Remember, he is not at war with you.

© Samuel Kee, 2011

Our Father

samuel kee —  May 25, 2011 — Leave a comment

He is also Father.

When the first followers of Jesus asked him to teach them to pray, Jesus introduces an idea about God and prayer that was revolutionary (Matthew 6:9).  At the time of Jesus’ physical life on earth, prayer was either meaningless or completely formal.  The pagans babbled on and on, hoping to say just the right words for the magic god(s)-formula to work.  The Jewish people formalized and ritualized prayer, such that the head was engaged, but not the heart.

With the first two words of Jesus’ prayer, a new world of prayer is birthed.  Jesus brings us together as a family, restoring and reconciling communities when he says the pronoun “our.”  From the start, we see that we were not meant to remain apart from each other, on individual, isolated spiritual islands.  Prayer was meant for the community and/or to reconcile the community, if needed.  “We” need each other if we’re going to approach “our Father” in prayer.  God is not just interested in some people, but in all of his people, coming home to him.  “Our” reminds us of how essential it is to be in a loving community of people who are fathered by the same Father.

But within the community, there is also intimacy.  Even in the midst of the crowd, we discover a closeness to God that we’ve never had before.  Jesus introduces us to the idea of a personal relationship with God, also a revolutionary idea at the time.  He’s not just God, though that should be enough, he is also Father.  This means that we are his children and we’re in a relationship with Someone who loves us and will take care of us.  God is not just any god, but he is our Father.  We look like him.  We have his same last name and mannerisms.  We belong to each other.  We follow him and he cares for us, doing whatever it takes to provide for us and protect us.

As a Father, his love is deep, so deep that you can never get to the bottom of it or make sense of it.  Tim Keller’s book title Prodigal God well summarizes how lavish our Father is with his love.  To be “prodigal” means to “spend big” and not hold anything back.  The Prodigal God spends all of his resources on his children.

Our Father spent all he had when he emptied himself on the cross, paying everything we owed with everything he had.  He gave until it hurt so that he would not lose his children.  That’s how much our Father loves us.

© Samuel Kee, 2011