Author: firstdelray

The following meditation was written by Dr. Yvonne Martinez Thorne, psychologist and ordained minister for the America Baptist Churches USA.

“Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.” Isaiah 41:10. (King James Version)

That Friday morning in September 1999, I awoke to a sun drenched but rain-filled sky. The Category 4 Hurricane Floyd had been downgraded to a tropical cyclone when it passed through New Jersey the night before. The concert we had planned for months would go on; this was my prayer. My heart soon sank when I called the senior pastor at the Presbyterian Church, the venue for our concert fundraiser. The  church had sustained significant water damage from the storms and was without electrical power. As the new Executive Director of a pastoral counseling center in Northeast NJ, I immediately understood that I was facing an emerging crisis. What were we to do?  Should we cancel the concert and refund the already purchased tickets?  As I clasped my head in my hands, I looked upward to the sky: “God, why did you allow this to happen?  Truth be told, I believe in such moments God desires to address something our finite, human minds cannot comprehend or imagine. 

Living with uncertainty ranks high on the list of conditions we would prefer not to experience. Uncertainty seems to be embedded into the fabric of our lives, and much of what we face seems to be out of our control. The past six years that included the COVID pandemic, natural disasters, food insecurity, and wars without ceasing have reminded us that we live with uncertainty created by situations beyond our control.  At the same time, we live with the expectation that if our lives are to be successful and meaningful, we must take control of our life situations. Our heroic strivings toward this end often leave us feeling weary, even hopeless from over functioning,

I contacted our Board and staff; the decision was unanimous. The concert will go on! The significance of the occasion influenced our decision. The concert had been  created as a fundraiser. Our pastoral counseling center wanted to honor youth who were committed to community, justice and peace as they continued to cope with the aftermath of the massacre that occurred earlier that year at Columbine High School in CO.  Our featured concert artist would be Ken Medema, a gifted, multi-talented, Christian singer and songwriter, and a blind person. Selected youth identified by their schools would be honored with the Humanity Award and an improvisational song created by Ken for each of the awardees. 

As the day progressed, I watched how God miraculously intervened in the midst of many uncertainties. We were able to find a new venue for the concert at a local church. We quickly produced flyers with instructions to the new location. We were reassured by his team that Ken had flown out that morning to New Jersey; yet he did not know about the change in venue. In the hours that followed in that rain-swept afternoon, I battled between having faith that could move mountains, and where are you God? The clock marked 8 pm. Ken had not arrived. My staff turned to me for instruction. I told them the show must go on! As the Master of Ceremony began speaking, the doors of the church opened, and there was Ken. Somehow my husband had miraculously found Ken at that chaotic airport and flights delayed. With tears of joy running down my face, I thanked God for his faithfulness and power to come through for us in uncertain times.

Sarah Young, a Christian writer of devotional books, addressed the matter this way: “Anticipate coming face to face with impossibilities: situations totally beyond your ability to handle. This awareness of your inadequacy is not something you should try to evade.”[1] We are not to skirt away from our inadequacies, and we are not to fit God into our small boxes. God is always present with us; inviting us is to make him our partner. This was God’s invitation to Israel during their Babylonian exile: Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God; yea I will help thee; yea I will uphold thee . . .” God desires to use our uncertainties to continue to fashion us into God’s own people and to align us with his purpose for our lives. God’s loving, outstretched hand is available to guide us. Will we take it?  

Joy,

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[1] Young, Sarah. Jesus Calling. Enjoying Peace in His Presence. Tennessee: Thomas Nelson, 2004. 241.

The following meditation was written by Dr. Yvonne Martinez Thorne, psychologist and ordained clergy for the American Baptist Churches USA.

“I know the plans I have in mind for you, declares the Lord; they are plans for peace, not disaster, to give you a future filled with hope. When you call me and come and pray to me, I will listen to you. When you search for me with all your heart, you will find me.” Jeremiah 29:11-13 (Common English Bible)

There are times in our lives when we may feel so discouraged that we find it difficult to take hold of the encouraging words of the Old Testament Prophet Jeremiah. These compelling words seem to lose their power during a time of difficult decision-making that offers no positive outcome for us and our loved ones. Although we firmly believe that God loves us, our dire circumstances have eroded our confidence in God’s plan of hope, peace, and promise. Yet, our need beckons us to make difficult decisions despite our fear, anxiety, fatigue or weariness. It is in these moments that the words of the Prophet Jeremiah remind us that we are to earnestly and expectantly call upon God who loves us and will never abandon us, even in our desperate and seemingly hopeless conditions.

I recall an encounter with Thomas, a local shoeshine man, whom my husband, Leo, and I met in Izmir, Turkey, while attending an international religious meeting. It was a sunlit Sunday morning by the Aegean Sea as we walked to visit the Church of St. Polycarp, built in 1625 to commemorate the 2^nd Century Bishop of Smyrna who died a martyr’s death refusing to renounce Jesus Christ. The church doors were locked. As we walked around the church complex, we came upon Thomas who greeted us with his radiant smile and exuberant joy: “Hallelujah brother! Hallelujah sister! I am a Christian.” Without showing any concern for his brass-covered shoeshine box and his small table of trinkets for sale, he immediately left them to guide us to a smaller church where the congregation was worshipping that morning. This selfless act of service and generosity toward two strangers he had just met was notable and made us wonder about his life story.

In our few days in Izmir, we came to know more about Thomas and his way of life that was shaped by decisions he made. Thomas’ early life was influenced by the religious guiding of his family until he had a life-changing encounter with a Christian businessman from Texas, USA, while plying his shoeshine trade. During his brief visit to Izmir, this traveler taught Thomas the Bible. Touched by what he heard about the sacrificial love of God through Jesus Christ, Thomas relinquished the faith of his family, accepted Christ as his Savior, and was baptized. Shortly thereafter, his wife and children also became Christians. His parents, unable to accept his decisions, disowned Thomas. This decision cost him his relationship with his family, his inheritance, and his home. With tears in his eyes, Thomas told us that he could never renounce Christ, no matter the cost: “How can I leave Jesus after all that he did for me?” He added that sometimes Jesus asks us to do some hard things. These two thoughts were pivotal for Thomas. He had abandoned all that he knew to live a Christian life. This decision exposed him to financial struggles he, his wife, and children would face. Was this an easy decision for Thomas to make? In human terms, no, but Thomas chose to face his struggles trusting in God’s love for him through Christ. God’s promise of love, hope, and peace had become the core of his relationship building with God.

In all our difficult and challenging circumstances, we are called to believe that God loves us and is present with us as we wait expectantly for his desired purpose for us. And, yes, waiting can be extremely difficult. But wait we must, trusting God’s process, as well as God’s outcome. In the final days we spent with Thomas, one morning he pointed to a “For Sale” sign he had placed on his brass shoeshine box, his primary source of income. He needed to move his family away from the increasing danger and violence where they lived. Thomas’ faith remained unfailing in God’s love, and he waited prayerfully and expectantly for God’s purpose. The day before we were to leave Izmir, we observed that his shoeshine box had not been sold. As we bid him goodbye later that evening, God had provided an answer for Thomas. Money miraculously arrived, and he did not have to sell his shoeshine box. Thomas wept openly as he once again encountered the faithful love of God who provided a future and hope for him and his family. Jeremiah’s word comes to us again.

Joy,

“The one who led you through this vast and terrifying desert of poisonous snakes and scorpions, of cracked ground with no water; the one who made water flow for you out of a hard rock.” Deuteronomy 8:15 (Common English Bible)

There is an old—and somewhat tired—axiom that two things are certain in life, death and taxes. While both may be true, many would agree that life cannot be reduced so simply. I don’t know how many other observations might be added to this list, but it can be said with relative certainty that trouble comes to every life. Many people, in my nearly forty years of ministry, have sat in my office and spoken of a path that seemed to stretch out ahead, a path that appeared untroubled. Then, suddenly, the whole picture was changed. The way forward now became clouded and uncertain. Trouble now accompanied them in life.

The unique circumstances vary, naturally, but the story is the same. Sorrow, disappointment, failure, and loss unexpectantly appears. Trouble comes. And the stitches that hold life together fails. We enter our forties, or fifties, or even later, and a meaningful relationship with another eludes us. Marriages are strained, children follow a path that results in brokenness, disease dulls the vibrancy of life, and natural disasters and wars disrupts a carefully planned future. We can’t talk about life without acknowledging the occasional chapters of challenge and hardship.

Comfort and wisdom are found in these few words from Deuteronomy. First, such moments of difficulty do not remain. We do not set-up residency in the troubled places of life. Pay attention to the first six words: “The one who led you through.” Our present trouble may be as vast and terrifying as a desert of poisonous snakes and scorpions, and the ground beneath our feet may be dry and cracked wide open from the lack of moisture, but each person is asked to look beyond to another chapter. God is actively moving us “through” this present trouble to another place. Present is an encouragement to keep moving. Don’t stop. Don’t give up. God accompanies us during trouble and is doing something about our present misfortune. Armed with this knowledge we find uncommon power to meeting and facing obstacles.

Second, while we find ourselves in the mist of trouble, God provides: “The one who made water flow for you out of a hard rock.” When we have exhausted all our resources and there remains nothing more that we can do, God is not done. God is not without resources to come to our aid. Here is an invitation to look to God—to anticipate God showing-up with a miracle that might be beyond our imagination. Present in our experience of trouble is an element of “nonetheless.” God is a God of the, nonetheless. So, go ahead and add “trouble” to the certainties of life. But remember, when trouble does accompany us on life’s journey, and God seems to be silent, that is when God is the nearest, providing for us and moving us forward to another more pleasant chapter.

Joy,

The following meditation was written by Rev. Catherine Cavazos Renken, pastor at Kirkwood Presbyterian Church in Kennesaw, Georgia.

“So many gathered that there was no longer space, not even near the door. Jesus was speaking the word to them. Some people arrived, and four of them were bringing to him a man who was paralyzed. They couldn’t carry him through the crowd, so they tore off part of the roof above where Jesus was. When they had made an opening, they lowered the mat on which the paralyzed man was lying . . . Jesus raised him up, and right away he picked up his mat and walked out in front of everybody.” Mark 2:2-4, 12

An hour after I gave birth to my son, a nurse was doing a routine examination in our hospital room when her demeanor suddenly shifted from friendly to serious. Something was wrong. The nurse hastily took my child from my arms and left the room, saying over her shoulder that she needed to take him right away. Bedbound with an epidural and confused, all I could do was scream for her to bring my baby back. My husband rushed after them, returning a few long and horrifying minutes later with the news that there was a problem with our son’s heart.

In the days and weeks that followed, our son was moved to the local children’s hospital, where specialists could better handle his care. Multiple times, day and night, alarms would go off, doctors would rush into his room, and I’d be asked to step aside while the medical team worked. As my newborn screamed, all I could do was watch and cry. The intensity was unbearable, and I felt the terror of losing my child weighing heavily in every part of my body.

My heart ached with such grief and fear that I was unable to articulate any prayers. Although my every breath was a plea for help, words would not form, not even to God.

I had been an ordained minister for a decade. I had prayed aloud and in private thousands of prayers, in all kinds of situations. I knew all the words to say in times of crisis and the right intercessions to lift up for healing. But in my most desperate moment, I could not utter a single one.

During this time, my phone lit up every day with friends, church members, and colleagues telling me they were praying. Their messages held me together. Every card, every Facebook post, every text message and voicemail offered my weary soul hope and peace. The prayers of the community sustained me. I began to receive their prayers as my own. I let their words serve in my stead.

God and modern medicine eventually healed my son’s heart, but mine felt broken. For a while after his birth, I carried a secret shame. I never doubted God’s presence; I felt the Spirit all around me. I was embarrassed that my faith had been so paralyzed by fear that I was unable to do for my child what I did for others so readily: offer intercessory prayers. I worried this was a sign of weakness and insufficiency in my calling. Years later, I would come to know this as a lesson in humility. I learned the power of being prayed for. My community had words when all I had was tears.

In Mark’s story, a group of friends helps a paralyzed man reach Jesus. Because the crowd had grown so thick, they literally cut a hole in the roof and lowered the man down to where Jesus stood. Seeing their faith, Jesus healed him.

Too often we get trapped into thinking we ought to be able to save ourselves, but in this story, the paralyzed man plays a passive role. We are not told that he even asked for help. The man was healed not from his own doing but from the persistence of the people who loved him. It was their refusal to give up and their trust in God’s power that led to this miracle.

In my most trying moment, when I was incapacitated with grief, it was the persistence of my community and their trust in God that held me. Their words of comfort, their eloquent prayers, their trust in the power of the Holy Spirit cut through the roof and set my son and me before our Savior.

Sometimes we are the ones who send the cards, lay on hands, pray from a distance, send the encouraging text message. And sometimes we cannot. When our sighs are too deep for words, when the best we can do is survive, we have each other. God created us to live in community, to pray for and lean on each other. We are not meant to bear the hard things alone. We have friends in Christ who can carry us when we cannot carry ourselves.

Joy,

The following meditation was written by Dr. Leo S. Thorne, retired associate general secretary for mission resource development for the American Baptists Churches USA.

“Jesus was praying in a certain place. When he finished, one of his disciples said, ‘Lord, teach us to pray, just as John taught his disciples.’” Luke 11:1

When I served as a senior pastor in Kansas City, Missouri, a parishioner asked me a question that had been troubling her for a while: “How long should I continue praying about a request?” I sensed urgency and seriousness in her voice. I affirmed her interest in this important matter of prayer, and we fell into an enlightening conversation. Let me place her question aside and ask if you have questions or concerns about your own prayer relationship with God.

You may be asking: Why does God take so long at times to answer my prayers? Truth be told, I am not sure that anyone can tell us how prayer works; much about prayer remains a mystery. But this we know. The Apostle Paul reminds us in 1 Thessalonians 5:17 to “pray without ceasing.” (KJV) When we visit our local supermarket, we often do an expiration-date-check on some of the products we intend to purchase. Prayers do not come with an expiration date for an answer. You see, the heart that has wisely made prayer the indispensable spiritual food for its daily sustenance never stops praying. Prayer becomes the habit of the heart. It is not that other activities in our lives stop receiving attention; it is more that prayer becomes our necessary energy for healthy spiritual wholeness.

By practice, though we may never become perfect at it, the holy work of prayer accompanies our power walking, our driving or our being driven, our banking transactions, our silent reflection in navigating office politics, our taking the kids to and from school, our companion at the checkout line, our joy in the morning after a night of weeping. Our tapestry of life becomes intertwined with communication with God. Prayer helps to bring our hearts in alignment with God’s time and God’s purpose for our lives.

Your concern about prayer may be that as you are praying you have in mind a preconceived answer, and this is the answer you want God to immediately affirm. But it may be that in God’s seeming delay, God is tampering with your patience, or impatience. One of the helpful quotes accompanying me since my teenage years comes from Act 2, Scene 3, of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. The playwright has the wise Friar Lawrence speak this line of counsel to the love-struck Romeo: “Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast.”[1] The Friar was seeing disaster ahead for the passion-driven young lovers.  

It just may be that God’s grace is nudging you to not be so urgent in seeking a specific answer, but to examine and adjust your request. The Revised Standard Version of the Bible expresses in this way a helpful thought from Psalm 27:14: “Wait for the Lord, be strong, and let your heart take courage, yea, wait for the Lord.” Tap the brakes, slow down, wait for God. Examine the heart. Or, as a dear pastor would often tell his congregation: “Let go and let God adjust your prayer perspective.” The Rev. William Sloane Coffin offers this thought: “The longest, the most arduous trip in the world, is the journey from the head to the heart.”[2]

How long should I continue praying for a request or waiting for God’s answer? If prayer at its core is about seeking to develop a one-to-one relationship with our all-loving and all-wise God, it seems that the act of praying is our primary objective. Some years ago, the Greyhound Bus Company employed a catchy marketing phrase to encourage us to leave our cars and allow their buses to take the stress out of driving: “Go Greyhound and leave the driving to us.”  

At the center of our prayer relationship lies the question: Who occupies the driver’s seat in our lives? The answer that echoes back, front, and center addresses our trust level in our God. A trust-filled way of developing a prayer relationship with our God invites us to throw open widely the doors of our heart and mind and surrender to the leadership of God in our lives, even when the mind and heart do not now get it. The humble act of building a continuous relationship with God through prayer becomes more important than when God answers.

Joy,

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[1] Shakespeare, William. The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet. Edited by Dympna Callaghan. 3rd ed. New York: W. W. Norton, 2018.

[2] Coffin, William Sloane, Jr. The Courage to Love. San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1982, 20.

The following meditation was written by Rev. Susan Sparks, senior minister at Madison Avenue Baptist Church (American Baptist) in New York City.

Each week, I try to make it to the gym. It’s not always easy. Some days, it’s a fight just to get out the door. But I go.

For the past year or so, there has been a woman in the locker room who sings. Sometimes humming, sometimes full-on belting out a song. It’s sweet. A little annoying, maybe. But sweet. One day last week I asked her, “What song is that you’re singing?” She smiled and said, “I have no idea. I just don’t love to work out. So, I sing myself into battle.”

Amen to that.

Every one of us is in a daily battle of some kind. Work problems. Health struggles. Family dynamics. The pressures are real. And while we know our own battles well, we rarely know what others are carrying.

The New York Times columnist Frank Bruni once wrote that if people wore sandwich boards listing their struggles, we’d move through the world with much more compassion. He shared an example of a sign a friend of his might wear: “Single parent. Child with special needs. Nowhere near enough help.”[1] What would your sign say?

We’re all fighting on multiple fronts. But we aren’t the only ones. The Bible shares story after story of people facing similar life struggles—ancient wisdom for our time. Which is why the story in 2 Chronicles 20 is such a gift. It’s a reminder that maybe we’ve been fighting all wrong.

In this three-thousand-year-old story, we find three lessons.

LESSON 1: King Jehoshaphat gets word that a vast army is headed straight for him and the people of Judah. Instead of panicking or preparing military strategy, the king does something radical: he prays. And not just a quick “Help us, God!” prayer—he prays with depth, naming God’s promises and ending with this vulnerable, faithful line: “We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you.”[2] What if that became our mantra?

LESSON 2: Then something even more surprising happens. God’s answer to the king’s prayer doesn’t come directly to the king. God speaks from an unexpected place—a Levite in the crowd. The Levite says, “Do not be afraid. The battle is not yours, but God’s.”[3] How many battles are we fighting that were never ours to begin with? How much more peace might we find if we paused and let God take the lead?

LESSON 3: The next morning, Jehoshaphat calls out his army. But instead of soldiers, he sends singers to the front lines. That’s right—he puts the choir ahead of the infantry. As they go out to meet the enemy, they sing: “Give thanks to the Lord, for his steadfast love endures forever.”[4]

They weren’t singing because they had already won. They were singing into the battle—because they trusted in the presence of God no matter the outcome.

From Paul and Silas singing in prison to spirituals sung on freedom marches, this is a deep tradition of hope. So how do we live that today? We follow these three lessons:

We pray: “I don’t know what to do, but my eyes are on you.”

We pause: “Be still. The battle is not yours.”

We praise: Even if our voice shakes. Even if we’re scared. We lead with gratitude and sing our way into the battle.

Know whatever battle you face, you are not alone. Because faith, in the end, beats fear every time.

Joy,

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[1] Bruni, Frank. The Beauty of Dusk: On Vision Lost and Found. New York: Avid Reader Press, 2022, chap. 6.

[2] 2 Chronicles 20:12.

[3] 2 Chronicles 20:15.

[4] 2 Chronicles 20:21

The following meditation was written by Kyaunnee Richardson, opera singer.

“Ask and you shall receive, seek and you shall find, knock and the door will be open to you.” Matthew 7:7, 8

Prayer has always been a staple for me growing up. My parents set the example and instilled a strong prayer life within my sister and myself. As I grew older, I began to see the importance of prayer in one’s life, from traveling mercies, big decisions, or thanking God for allowing one to see another day of life. My parents taught the whole family how to pray: we gather in a circle, hold hands, and pray over each member of our family. They made sure we were all covered under prayer. I also learned that prayer is a conversation with God, not a fancy, long-winded essay with eloquent words. Simply, “Dear God or Heavenly Father or Father in Heaven or Father God, I thank you for this day.” And he listens. As I searched the Scriptures, I found passages of how those who are committed to prayer and have a close relationship with God “moved mountains.” I wanted to test this.

In my prayer life, I wake up in the quiet early mornings of the day, pull out my journal, and begin talking with God. A lesson from a Bible study in high school brought me to Matthew 7:7,8. As I studied it, one word popped out twice: ask. It’s mentioned as the passage’s first word and mentioned again as an acronym of the whole verse. It led me to two people from the Old Testament: Joseph and, one who is often overlooked, Jabez. We all know the story of Joseph. There’s even a hit musical about him starring Donny Osman! While studying his life, I realized he never doubted God. Through his trials and suffering, Joseph’s faith in his Creator eventually brought him to have his dreams manifested, not only to better his circumstances, but to save the nation of Israel, which was part of God’s master plan. On the other hand, there’s Jabez, a man whose name meant “pain.” Yet he cried out to God and asked boldly, “O bless me, indeed and enlarge my territory, that Your hand would be with me, and that You would keep me from evil, that I may not cause pain!”[1] God answered his prayer.

I figured if God could answer the prayers of Joseph, Jabez, and my parents, he could do the same for me. I tested this and asked God to guide me in my life and singing career. I began to see him open doors for me and bring people into my life that were an absolute blessing. There were also times where I did not understand the route he was taking me. Yet my parents would always say, “What’s for you is for you.” In other words, I had to trust in God, his timing, and that he had my best interest at heart. Whatever I asked for, he heard me and the only thing I was required to do was keep going, have faith, and not doubt. I’d seek his council and keep knocking until that door opened. Simple, right? It is. My life is a testimony of prayer. As I continue to walk through this life, I see glimpses of why God brought me through certain things and the purpose he has placed upon my life—much like Joseph. And when I ask boldly for my dreams, stand firm on his promises, and they end up coming to fruition, I thank my heavenly Father for it, much like Jabez. I dare you to do the same.

Joy,

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[1] 1 Chronicles 4:9-10, NKJV

The following meditation was written by Dr. Thomas K. Tewell, retired pastor and founder of Macedonian Ministry Foundation.

When I was Senior Pastor of the Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church in New York City, the well-known preacher, Dr. Bryant Kirkland, was my distinguished predecessors. Over lunch at a Manhattan restaurant one day. Dr. Kirkland introduced me to a form of prayer that I found so provocative that I use it every day. The form of prayer is . . . ”praying with eyes wide open.”

Dr. Kirkland explained that in New York, when one tries to pray at a crowded restaurant over a meal, inevitably the waiter comes at the precise moment when the one praying uses a gesture . . . and a hot dish of soup spills all over the table or a plate is knocked out of the waiter’s hands and onto the floor.

To avoid that, Dr. Kirkland prayed at lunch that day with his eyes wide open. That way, he could notice the challenges of people in the restaurant and pray for those who need God’s help. For example, during our lunch, he prayed for the other patrons and me in this way: “Dear God, Tom and I have gathered here in this crowded restaurant amid the hustle and bustle of a great city, for our lunch. We are noticing the waiter at the next table, O God, who is being criticized by his customers for not bringing the food they ordered. We pray for the restaurant manager who has a room filled with a few disgruntled and disappointed customers, as he tries to change the mood in his restaurant. Most of all, dear God, please remind the people in this establishment that all of us are a part of your bigger world and that you have greater purposes for each of us today than we can imagine. Lift our spirits so that we might serve your greater will for our lives. And may our food be as delicious as our conversation. We pray in the name of our Savior, who was never in a hurry, but who always had time to be about your will. A-men.”

I must tell you . . . that I was so impressed with Dr. Kirkland’s prayer . . . that right at the lunch table . . . I started taking notes!

What I realized at that luncheon was that praying with our eyes open truly opens a whole new window into the world. After that lunch, I started to pray for people on the New York subway, or for people walking in and out of a hospital in Atlanta. Or for the police, or firefighters in Pasadena, California, or for people in tears at a local Starbucks, or for parents trying to deal with upset children on a playground. Praying with eyes open allowed me to pray for the people at a Homeless shelter or for corporate executives on their way to work. Praying with eyes wide open allowed me to pray for anyone in the world. I can pray while driving the car, or walking down the street, or riding in an Uber, or on an airplane. It opens a doorway to pray for anyone and everyone!

Praying with eyes wide open has impacted my life in three significant ways.

First, it allows me to pray for the people who come across my path . . . the homeless person on a street corner asking for money, or for a street vendor, or a bus driver. The Bible often tells us that “seeing the crowds, Jesus had compassion on them.”[1] When we pray with our eyes open, we can truly see the crowds of people and can become aware of their individual needs. But to be honest, I often pass by people and do not even notice them. But this prayer discipline has allowed me to see people and to notice them and then to pray for them and bring their needs before God! It is a game changer!

Second, I started to pray the Lord’s Prayer meditatively, silently in my mind throughout the day with my eyes open. This has changed my perspective on the world. As I sit in traffic, I pray the words of the Lord’s Prayer. As I wait for our grandkids at a soccer practice when the practice fields are filled with hundreds of kids and grown-ups, I pray the words of the Lord’s Prayer. Doing this allows me to pray for God’s Kingdom to come on earth, for the temptations people are facing, and for God’s will to be done. All of these are important issues to pray for . . . but I often neglect to do it until . . . I started to pray with eyes wide open. As I said . . . it is a Game Changer!

Thirdly, when I pray with eyes wide open, I ask God to change my perspective on the people around me, and I start to pray to “see people through the eyes of Christ,” and not simply through my own narrow lens. When I start to see people through the eyes of Christ, do you know what I see? I often see corporate executives and professional people who, underneath the surface, are little boys and little girls who just want to be loved. And when I start to see them in this way, I have more compassion for them and start to see them as Jesus did—as lost people who need to be found—and sick people who need to be healed. Once again, it is a game changer.

I shared this form of prayer with an Adult Sunday School class not long ago.  A man named Andy was intrigued by it. He started to pray with his eyes wide open for the people who came across his path. He prayed that he would start to see people through the eyes of Christ! And he did! He and his wife Lois were experiencing some serious tension in their marriage. Andy knew that something was terribly wrong. One day as he prayed for Lois with his eyes open, Andy saw Lois through the eyes of Christ. Andy realized that Lois had some things to teach him. But he was so stubborn that he couldn’t hear what she was telling him. So, as he prayed to see her through the eyes of Christ, he got a revolutionary idea! He asked her to tell him what he was doing wrong in their marriage, from her point of view!  She did! She told him that he was so stubborn that he could never admit that he was wrong or even that she had a valid point of view! And he listened to her! When Andy admitted his stubbornness and asked God to forgive him. Lois forgave him too. And it rekindled their love affair! And it all happened because Andy started to pray with his eyes wide open to truly see the people around him. And one of those whom Andy saw, in addition to himself, was his neglected wife!  This kind of thing can happen to us if we start to pray with our eyes wide open!

Joy,

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[1] Matthew 9:36.

The following mediation was written by Hannah Anglemyer, a college student Furman University, studying International Affairs.

“Don’t be anxious about anything; rather, bring up all of your requests to God in your prayers and petitions, along with giving thanks. Then the peace of God that exceeds all understanding will keep your hearts and minds safe in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:6,7

School cafeterias are always alive with conversation. During a single lunch period, a walk through the room might reveal heated debates about an upcoming football game, dramatic complaints about a lengthy homework assignment, animated retellings of weekend adventures, and countless other exchanges all competing to rise above the noise. The vast majority of these conversations are quickly forgotten, fading into the background of an ordinary school day.

Years ago, I overheard a more unusual cafeteria comment that has stayed with me ever since: “Wouldn’t it be great if there were a kind of therapy where you could just talk to God?”

My first thought was simple: that’s called prayer. Ironically, that thought pointed out something I had not learned to live.

Those words came during a particularly difficult season of life, marked not by a single crisis, but by a persistent, quiet inner struggle that left me feeling anxious, discouraged, and distant from God. Doubt often outweighed faith. I hid the vast majority of that struggle from everyone. For a while, I tried to hide it from God too.

But that cafeteria conversation lingered in the back of my mind. As time has gone on, I have come to appreciate the wisdom hidden in that seemingly casual remark. It was spoken by someone I did not know well and who, to my knowledge, was not especially interested in religion. Yet, it captured a truth I desperately needed to learn—that prayer is an invitation to bring every fear, struggle, and burden before him. Prayer does not need to be polished or elegant, only honest. Throughout Scripture, God welcomes prayers marked by all kinds of emotions—joy, confusion, sorrow, fear, and even anger. Prayer is not a performance for God’s approval; it is a conversation with a Father who already knows our hearts.

And when I began to approach prayer in that way, talking to God through brokenness, allowing God into my struggles, something began to shift, not suddenly, not in a way that removed every difficulty, but gradually the weight of carrying everything alone began to subside. God was not absent in my struggles; he was inviting me to surrender them into his hands.

That is the invitation Scripture gives us in Philippians 4:6. We are told to “bring up all of your requests to God in your prayers and petitions, along with giving thanks.” We are not told to only bring that which is resolved, easy, or understandable. Scripture tells us to bring “all.” All that feels heavy. All that is unresolved. All that we do not yet have the words to describe. Bring those struggles to God, and give thanks that God is with us in everything. Gratitude may feel unnatural when anxiety is pressing in, but giving thanks gently redirects our attention, reminding us that the God who has been faithful in the past remains faithful now.

And then there is the promise of Philippians 4:7, “ Then the peace of God that exceeds all understanding will keep your hearts and minds safe in Christ Jesus.” Scripture does not promise that there will be no hardship. What we are promised is peace in our hearts and minds. A peace which does not depend on circumstances or things being “easy, ” but a peace that remains with us even when questions are unanswered. It rests not in our control or knowledge of the future, but in the certainty of God’s presence within it.

What burdens have you been carrying alone? What worry have you replayed repeatedly in your mind but rarely surrendered to God? Maybe it’s concern for a loved one, your health, a strained relationship, or financial uncertainty. Maybe it’s a worry you do not yet have the words to describe. Whatever they are, Scripture’s invitation is the same: bring them all before God. Bring them with honesty and gratitude. Then trust that the God who hears our prayers will do what he promises, guarding our hearts and minds with a peace that surpasses anything we can understand.

Joy,

The following meditation was written by Dr. Leo S. Thorne, retired general secretary for mission resource development for the American Baptist Churches USA.

“I assure you that when you have done it for one of the least of these, brothers and sisters of mine, you have done it for me.” Matthew 25:40

The humble walk of Jesus Christ on earth reveals that he spent a great deal of time in the company of everyday people, who heard him gladly. He fed them. He taught them. He healed their broken bodies. He preached the good news of the gospel to them. These ministry moments were interwoven into his life of prayer. He withdrew from the crowds and spent solitary moments praying to God, revealing a humbled and obedient heart.

 “Jesus was intentional with prayer,” writes Doug Hood. “Jesus wove into the fabric of each day a time to be alone with God. . . . Prayer was an opportunity to link his life with the purposes of God.”[1] It seems as if there was a direct connection between Jesus’ prayer life and his involvement with the daily needs of the human family. Should our own intentional time in developing a prayer relationship with God also lead us outward to make ourselves available to serve the needs of others?

One morning our church secretary came into my office beaming with excitement and waving a colorful flier in her hand. She had stopped on her way to work at the local Deli to pick up her usual morning coffee and her whole wheat bagel. There was something about that flier which caught her attention. Thanksgiving Blessings of Hope was written in bold letters at the top. Provide a thanksgiving meal for a family in need was the invitation that followed. We will supply boxes and the list of items needed. For the next five years at Thanksgiving, this little church came alive! Blessings of Hope boxes grew from two boxes to 20, to 35, to 65, to 80. Church members who had not been active, young and older persons, men, women, strangers from the community external to the church claimed this needful activity as their own and joy-fully filled boxes.

Now here is the rest of the story. In the second year of this annual Thanksgiving box-filling, one of the rather quiet teenage members spontaneously stopped the group from doing their task. He said he had something to say to them. He told the group that during his nightly devotions, before going to bed, he was reading one of Jesus’ parables, the rather sobering one about the Judgment of the Sheep and Goats. This is the parable in which the king responded to a question from the righteous people who were surprised by their reward. You see, as the parable goes, these caring people had responded to the people’s needs by feeding the hungry, giving drink to the thirsty, welcoming strangers, and visiting the sick and the prisoners.

The eye-opening thought that struck this teen were the words of Jesus that because they (the righteous) had responded to the needs of the least of these, it was as if they were serving Jesus himself. The young man concluded: “Let us stop and pray. And let us pack these boxes as if we were packing them for Jesus.” The atmosphere in that assembly hall was changed. It was as if a warm wind of holy excitement had entered that space and transformed the people. The American pastor and theologian Walter Rauscenbausch adds that these righteous people in Jesus’ parable thought that “they had done [actions of service] for folks – dirty, sweaty, tired discouraged individuals. But Jesus said, ‘Oh, no, ye did it unto me.’”[2] ² When this small suburban, New Jersey congregation began their Thanksgiving ministry, the church had an average weekly attendance of around 25 people at the Sunday worship service. In those five years the attendance tripled.

Might it be that as we seek to develop an ongoing prayer relationship with God, we may also want to have our ears and heart open to become more compassionate to the needs of people around us? When we pray: “Thy kingdom come,” as Jesus taught his disciples to pray, might we also want to talk with God during our time of prayer about our personal availability to serve Jesus by helping others in need? Should our prayer relationship with God also have an outward perspective to serve people in need? Who knows how such praying—for a neighbor with Alzheimer’s, people in war-torn areas, families with no health insurance, siblings in feud over dividing inheritances, daughters and sons battling addictions and drug use, the prisoner on death row—would guide and enrich our own time of prayer with God?

Joy,

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[1] Hood, W. Douglas. A Month of Prayer: Five-Minute Meditations for a Deeper Experience of Prayer, Eugene: WIPF & Stock, 2023, 2.

[2] Dennis L. Johnson, To Live in God: Daily Reflections with Walter Rauschenbusch (Valley Forge, PA: Judson Press, 2020), 116