Prayer as an Interactive

It’s been over 30 years since I realized I was on a journey with God. And, I still don’t have prayer figured out. Sometimes I think I have more questions about prayer now than I did when I started. I don’t have it all wrapped up nice and tidy. My theology of prayer is incomplete. You’d think I’d be a “prayer warrior” by now—one of those people you’ve heard about who does all those strange sounding words like “intercede” or “stand in proxy.” Not this guy. At least, not all the time and not as a habit. And certainly not by definition. But here’s what I do know: God tells me to do it. He tells me to be honest. He tells me he isn’t afraid of what I’m going to say. He says He hears. I’ve seen Him answer. He tells me to take time to do it. He tells me there is no formula or correct way—more importantly, there’s not a wrong way. Jesus did it. The bible is full of people who did it, encouraged it, were horrible at it, got angry during it, and shrugged it (things didn’t go well for the latter). And, He wants His people to pray together as well as alone. I’ve learned something about prayer in the last couple of years. I have to interrupt myself with it. I have to let God interrupt me through it. That takes breaks from routine as well as routine. It takes ritual and it takes being aware of the Spirit and inviting Him into my daily existence. Sometimes interruption comes when I step outside my comfort zone. Try on new spiritual disciplines. I imagine many feel like me. So, this weekend we filled the room with magical prayer jars (okay, they were just Mason jars). The jars were filled with clear water but everyone was invited to pray prayers of hope and drop food coloring into the jars. All different colors. The jars were lit on tables and the colors became brilliant. Diverse. Intertwined. It was a visual reminder that our prayers all count. It was a visual reminder that we are not alone. We “saw” the prayers of others. Our prayers went out and mingled with others. God heard every one. God saw every one. The Spirit interrupted us all.

STAR WARS Christmas

Star Wars Christmas

They say it’s better to give than to receive
But if I’m honest, that’s not something I always believe
I know that my home is chock full of . . .
Books I haven’t read and stuff that . . .
ends up in garage sales down the line.
I know I’ve got too many clothes . . .
More shoes than my wife, I know I should be so content and feeling fine.
And I am content for the most part.
But this Christmas there’s a few things that would really touch my heart.

I want the Star Wars figures that I had as a child
I want the Landspeeder that takes Luke for a ride
I want the telescoping lightsaber Vader. It sucks . . .
Cause my mom threw it out now it’s worth 6 thousand bucks.
A Millennium Falcon I can hang from the ceiling
And C3-PO, now my mind is reeling
With my R2-D2, the world was right.
I want my X-Wing fighter with the flashing laser light.

This Christmas we agreed to not spend money
‘Cause we’ve got each other, baby, sweetie, honey
This season we are low on cash . . .
I’ve entertained the “dine and dash” . . .
I need new breaks and the warranty will soon expire.
I don’t need new things, I’ve got plenty . . .
But those little Jawas—I had twenty
And with eBay you and I could both retire.

I want my Star Wars figures I had as a boy
I want my light saber, Sandtrooper, Power Droid
I want the Death Star Playset that we lit on fire
So many discarded, so many buyers
I want the D4 that we thought was lame
Even that guy we didn’t know his name
The badly cast Luke and the Leia that faded
I won’t make them kiss now that I know they’re related

And Santa, not too many more requests
But that elusive Rocket Firing Boba Fett
And that original Jawa with the vinyl cape
And the blue Snaggletooth I fixed with Dad’s duct tape

I want the Star Wars figures that I had back then
In the original packages they all came in
I want my Ben Kenobi the Jedi Master
Imperial Stormtrooper with the blaster
Want a time machine back to ‘78
So I could tell myself on my tenth birthday
Don’t unwrap the Hammerhead, hide it, save
Cause one day you’ll need to sell it to make the house payment

O Christmas Tree (I Didn't Hear You Crying)

A new Christmas song. You're welcome.