February 25, 2011.
Dear God! Sometimes I don’t even want to talk to You, let alone pray. It used to be so simple between us: I talked to You, I listened to You, I talked back, You told me off, I stalked off, cooled off, came back, and we started over. No, it was better than that. We picked up where we left off. We communicated. Truly communicated. The way my mother and I used to, so there were never any jagged leftovers lying in wait to give either of us a splinter. I did so love that woman, my complicated, difficult mother. I didn’t love her weaknesses, but I didn’t take advantage of them, either. I don’t know if You have weaknesses (I suspect one or two). Regardless, you’re God. Loving and. . . mature. Why would you take advantage of my weaknesses?
Take my weakness to edit everything in sight. Here’s an example and, for the record, it’s not a small one to me.
It has to do with a prayer–and a particular pray-er. A dear friend who prays for me every day. I am someone who’s grateful to be prayed for. I am especially grateful to be in the prayers of people who are convinced that God is a good listener. While I am inclined to think that the main–and certainly salutary–result of prayer is to center the person praying, I do believe that our prayers can, may, and do occasionally move God to act.
So I watch what I pray for.
That, it turns out, is the easy part for me. What I find hard is to remember that I have no business even daydreaming about editing someone else’s prayers. Talk about chutzpah! Yet it sometimes takes every bit of my spiritual energy to push that desire down and keep it there.
I do believe that, as "Nobody’s God" belongs to no faith group, He must be adamant about the right of people to pray not only how but also for what they want to. That’s the open-minded God I pray to, right? Believe in. Check. And I know there’s no point in believing in God if you don’t trust Him. Yet whenever I think of this one prayer by my friend, I repeatedly yank back my trust. I don’t want to have to trust that God will not–to teach me a lesson, or on a divine whim–grant her prayer, I want to be sure. Because if. . . that would destroy my faith in God’s open-mindedness. Which is no lower than point three of my personal creed.
The devil is in the details? Here goes. This is not just any friend, but a friend whom I have grown to love, who prays for me on a daily basis. When another friend of mine is mired in a particular difficulty, I do not hesitate to enlist this dear friend’s prayers to accompany mine. When I find myself in a smooth-walled hole, she is the friend I ask to help hoist me up by adding her prayers to my own. I ask her because I know she really prays.
The problem is, my friend prays every day for me to be saved. To be redeemed by Jesus. She knows that I was for a time a Catholic, and maybe that feeds her hope, but I doubt it. You see, my friend definitely does not believe in "nobody’s God"–only hers. Her Jesus belongs to my friend’s "Bible-Centered Baptist church." The church is evangelical, and so is she. When we’re running an errand, she speaks of how, specifically, he is helping our day along. She’s not displaying her intimate relationship with Jesus for my benefit. He is her constant companion–in both senses. The immediacy of her faith is wonderful to witness–but also discomforting.
My friend and I do not argue theology, we don’t discuss theology. She knows by heart all she feels she needs to know about God. Including that, unless I accept Jesus as my Lord, I am doomed.
And so she prays for that, my surrender to Jesus. Every day. My head knows that I cannot revise her prayer, edit it so that she prays instead that God will guide me along my own path. Mind you, I do not ever say–even think–"been there, done that." I cannot imagine being that disrespectful of either her faith or our friendship.
Once, as we sat on my couch, for a brief visit away from my work, hers, or an errand, she said, I think your view of God is wider than mine, mine is narrower than yours. I waited, hovering on the cusp of joy. But she stopped there. She is happy with her narrower view. She loves her church. Her Bible-study guide. Her Jesus. And because she loves me, she prays for me to surrender to them all. Because, she tells me, the prospect of missing me in Heaven makes her sad.
I do not tell her that I believe Heaven is bigger than she thinks, or that God is. Let Nobody’s God fend for Himself. I am learning. Learning there is nothing I can say to my friend. Learning that what I can do is pray that my love of God will lead me to Heaven. And that when my friend and I come face to face there, we will embrace wordlessly, as loving friends do when they meet up.
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A very interesting post and beautifully framed. Having had, as a child, backdoor neighbors who were Baptists, who constantly were trying to get me to accept Jesus as my personal savior, (when I was six years old, no less!), I am somewhat familiar with the conundrum. I don't know that there is an answer to the dilemma. When I first focused intensely on developing a relationship with God (as an adult), it was in my early forties. I remember feeling that it was not appropriate to ask God for things I wanted. My deepest prayer when I was a child was that God would protect my parents, (all other relatives were killed in the holocaust.) However, my mother died when I was eighteen. But, I did not feel betrayed or abandoned by God. I felt He understood things, I did not. I remember that one rabbi introduced me to the idea that God's job vis-a-vis prayer was to listen. To enable us to be heard. This seemed to make more sense than the concept of petitionary prayer. With everyone asking God for this and that, how can He possibly respond to it all. But, He can listen... and I found that comforting. On the other hand, I have had the experience several times of having my prayers answered, but then again, maybe it was simply the experience of being heard.
ReplyDeleteThis touch me deeply. I am not very religious, though I am a supporter of all faiths, but someone very close to me is also an evangelical Christian, and it can be hard to have a conversation with her at times. Like you, I dare not tell her her view or wrong. Nor do I exactly think they are. Her views are right for her, and mine are right for me. It is very hard when someone thinks their way is THE way, however, especially when it gets to the point that though you respect their view, they are not showing that same respect in return (of course, in their mind, they are only trying to "save" you). you have an amazing heart and profound grace. Live in the strength in who you are and what you believe, and remember that much of what your friend says is more about her path and what she believes than it is about what you *need* to believe. We are, all of us, (at least I think) selfish. Even in our selfishness, I believe most are that way because they want the honor, even if only to themselves, of being that way. And that is what much of this is--her desires for you because of what it means to *her* walk in life. She can desire that, but you must (and I know you will) trust your own faith and walk your own walk. These posts are so heartwarming and delicately expressed. Well done :)
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