Author: Sahed

A Prayer about Heart Guarding  

Dear children, keep yourselves from idols. (1 John 5:21 NIV)  

Gracious Father, how I long for the day when I will no longer be temptable, deceivable, or capable of worshiping any other god but you. I so look forward to an eternity of giving you the adoration, affection, attention, and allegiance of which you alone are worthy. No one redeems us like you. No one loves us like you do. No one cares for us like you. No one understands us like you. There is no God but you. In Jesus, you’ve already given us a new heart and have placed your Spirit inside us.

In Jesus, you’ve already turned our heart of stone into a heart of flesh (Ezek. 36:25–27). In Jesus, you’ve already given us a heart to know and love you (Jer. 24:7). In Jesus, you’ve already written your law upon our hearts (Jer. 31:33). Indeed, Father, you’ve already given me a perfectly forgiven heart— yet it is far from being a fully perfected heart. The battle for my heart’s worship continues, daily and relentlessly. This conflict will persist until the day Jesus returns to finish making all things new. Thus the warning to keep myself from idols is not going away. 

Father, there are some idols I run from like the plague, but others I don’t even recognize as idols. It’s easier to see the idols outside of me, but help me to discern the “idols of the heart” (see Ezek. 14:4). Help me to know when I’ve made a good thing an ultimate thing. When I don’t think you are “enough,” where do I take the trust and worship you deserve— where do I go for life, deliverance, and salvation? 

I praise you for the assurance that I am already one of your “beloved children.” You cannot love me more than you already do, and you will never love me less. Surely the gospel, this gospel, will win the day, my heart, and the entire cosmos. I pray in Jesus’ name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about God’s Laugh  

A little while, and the wicked will be no more;
though you look for them, they will not be found.
But the meek will inherit the land and enjoy peace and prosperity.
The wicked plot against the righteous and gnash their teeth at them;
but the Lord laughs at the wicked, for he knows their day is coming.
(Ps. 37:10–13 NIV)

Dear Father, laughter is not one of the things I grew up associating with you. Austerity, rigidity, sobriety, yes— but not laughter. I praise you that the gospel continues to expose, deconstruct, and replace all kinds of groundless notions I’ve had about you. There’s really nothing more important about us than the image of you we have in our hearts.

I so look forward to the day when I will actually hear you laugh, for that will be the day when all evil, wickedness, and injustice will be eradicated. It’s hard to ceive of a universe, a nation, a city, a relationship— even one heart, my heart— in which every semblance of sin and brokenness is completely gone.

That day is coming, and we praise you for this great hope that “the meek will inherit the land and enjoy peace” (Ps. 37:11). Because of Jesus we have an inheritance “that can never perish, spoil or fade . . . kept in heaven” for us (1 Pet. 1:4 NIV). I only wish the little while longer we have to wait would be a little less long. 

But you are the God who does all things well. I know this to be true, and when- ever I doubt it, one look at the cross tends to bring me back to gospel sanity— back to the meekness that is appropriate for those who are destined to inherit the new heaven and new earth. 

So when wicked plots and gnashing teeth seem to be on the increase and righteousness seems to be on the decrease, please, Father, allow me and all of your children to hear your laughter in the gospel of the kingdom.

May your joy be our strength, your promise be our confidence, and your timing be our schedule. May the hope of great peace compel us and propel us into greater expressions of missional living and loving. Give us eyes to see and hearts to believe that even right now, Jesus is making all things new. We pray in Jesus’ triumphant name. 

Amen. 

A Prayer about the “How Much More” of the Gospel  

For if many died through one man’s trespass, much more have the grace of God and the free gift by the grace of that one man Jesus Christ abounded for many. And the free gift is not like the result of that one man’s sin. For the judgment fol- lowing one trespass brought condemnation, but the free gift following many trespasses brought justification. If, because of one man’s trespass, death reigned through that one man, much more will those who receive the abundance of grace and the free gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man Jesus Christ. (Rom. 5:15–17)  

Most holy and gracious Father, today my heart is filled with praise for the hyper- abundance of grace you’ve given us in your Son, Jesus. Through the failure of the first Adam, we were born spiritually dead—willing subjects, co-conspirators, members in good standing in the reign of sin and death. But now, through the work of the second Adam, Jesus, we’ve been made alive and now live as objects of your affection and subjects in Jesus’ kingdom—the reign of righteousness, peace, and joy—the reign of grace. 

As dead as we were in our sins and trespasses, we are much, much more alive in Jesus’ forgiveness and righteousness. As distant and disconnected as we were from you because of Adam’s sin and our own sin, we are much, much more at peace and intimate with you through the perfect work of Jesus on our behalf. As narcissistic and navel gazing as we were through our connection to the first Adam, we are becoming much, much more others centered, loving, and caring through our union with Jesus. 

Most generous and loving Father, you are most definitely for us. You didn’t spare your own Son, but gave him up for us all— how will you not also, along with Jesus, graciously give us all things? You’ve justified us, and there is now no condemnation. Jesus, you died for us and you now perpetually live to pray for us and advocate for us. Nothing will ever separate us from your love (Rom. 8:31–35)!

Indeed, as grave and great as our condition was through sin and death, the “how much more” of the gospel has trumped it a million times over! We pray with astonishment, wonder, and gratitude, in Jesus’ name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about Loving as the Dearly Loved  

And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, by whom you were sealed for the day of redemption. Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you. Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children. And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God. (Eph. 4:30–5:2)  

Merciful Father, mighty Holy Spirit, most compassionate Lord Jesus, I praise you today for the love with which you love us, in which you have rooted us, and by which you are transforming us. 

It took the whole Trinity to redeem me, and it takes the whole Trinity for me to live this life of love to which you have called us. There’s no other way I will even begin to be an “imitator of God.” So hear my cry. 

Father, I don’t want to live today just with a theoretical or theological awareness of being your dearly loved child. Let it be deeply experiential and existential— very real, very encouraging, and very humbling. Your great love for me is the greatest convicting power this side of the new heaven and new earth. 

All day long, let me hear you serenading me in the gospel, that I might grieve the ways I grieve the Holy Spirit— with my thoughts, with my words, and with my actions. Otherwise, I might try to justify the ways I love so poorly. 

Lord Jesus, you are so kind, compassionate, and forgiving of me. I want the fragrant aroma of the sacrifice you made for me on the cross to permeate all my relationships. You’re not calling me to change anybody. You’re calling me to live as a broken perfume bottle through which the aroma of grace will bring your disruptive and gentling presence. Let me live more out of brokenness than out of my woundedness and self-righteousness. 

God the Holy Spirit, you who raised Jesus from the dead, give me the power I will need today to rid myself of— not to nurse, tolerate, or justify— my bitterness, anger, rage, brawling, slander, and malice and all the other ways I love poorly. In- deed, Triune God, the life of love you live for me, please live through me. I pray in Jesus’ peerless name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about Loving the Wrong Thing  

I have written something to the church, but Diotrephes, who likes to put himself first, does not acknowledge our authority. So if I come, I will bring up what he is doing, talking wicked nonsense against us. And not content with that, he refuses to welcome the brothers, and also stops those who want to and puts them out of the church. (3 John 9–10)  

Dear Jesus, being chronicled, by name, in the Scriptures as someone who loved being first isn’t a very attractive proposition. I have no clue what was going on in Diotrephes’s life and heart that made him so distrusting of the apostle John and so insecure and divisive, but his story certainly invites me to look at mine. Jesus, please convict me and free me from the ways I too love to be first. 

In my marriage— when my zeal to be right and win the argument is more notorious than my commitment to listen and understand my spouse; when I pout more than I pursue my spouse. 

In my friendships— when my need to be remembered and appreciated is more pronounced than my commitment to stay in touch with and serve my friends. 

In my vocation— when the people who work with me feel like I’m far more taken up with my reputation and success than I’m committed to love and serve as a member of a team. 

In the general population— when I navigate through life with little eye contact and don’t work hard to remember names. 

In the grocery store— when I push my shopping cart around like I’m driving in the Daytona 500, racing up and down the aisles, grabbing items, and speeding up to get to the shortest checkout line first. 

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner. You didn’t consider your equality with God something to be held on to selfishly. You didn’t love to be first. Rather, you emptied yourself by taking the very nature of a man— a servant man, a man who served me by fulfilling all the demands of the law for me and by exhausting God’s judgment against all my sin on the cross. Now you ever live to serve me as my advocate, intercessor, and bridegroom. 

I am convicted and humbled afresh by your lavish and selfless love. Restore my first love for you, that my love for being first will decrease and die a thousand deaths. I pray in your matchless name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about Eating Soul Food  

Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters;
and you who have no money, come, buy and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk without money and without cost.
Why spend money on what is not bread,
and your labor on what does not satisfy?
Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good,
and you will delight in the richest of fare.
Give ear and come to me; listen, that you may live. (Isa. 55:1–3 NIV)

Most gracious Father, I praise you today for the simple pleasure of eating. Right now I’m thinking about pan-seared pompano, a well chosen white wine, a fresh mango salad, sweet potato fries, grilled asparagus, and some fresh pistachio gelato to finish off the banquet. Thank you, Father, for the utter joy of eating. But alas, like all of your good gifts, even our eating is broken, and we are such poor stewards of our thirst and hunger. 

Too much of the time, Father, I’m a hungry man demanding instant gratification. I’ll grab whatever drink I think will slake my thirst, and I’ll eat whatever bread will make me full in the moment. Like Esau, I let a bowl of steaming oatmeal in my hand hold more power than the promise of a sumptuous feast. 

Yet, Father, you’re always beckoning me to the only feast that will satisfy the insatiable hunger and thirst of my soul. You’ve spread before me the gospel feast of your Son, Jesus, and the whole bountiful banquet has already been paid for in full. You designed me for delights you alone can satisfy through your grace. 

Indeed, Lord Jesus, you are the Bread of Life and the giver of living water. You’re the richest fare the Father has promised. You so generously nourish us through the means of grace: the Scriptures, prayer, fellowship, private and corporate worship, service, the Eucharist. Yet all of these are just a foretaste of the meal from which all banqueting derives its meaning: the wedding feast of the Lamb (Rev. 19). Hasten that blessed day and eternal feast. In your gracious name we pray.

Amen. 

A Prayer about Seduce ability  

With much seductive speech she persuades him;
with her smooth talk she compels him.
All at once he follows her,
as an ox goes to the slaughter,
or as a stag is caught fast till an arrow pierces its liver;
as a bird rushes into a snare;
he does not know that it will cost him his life.
And now, O sons, listen to me,
and be attentive to the words of my mouth.
Let not your heart turn aside to her ways;
do not stray into her paths,
for many a victim has she laid low,
and all her slain are a mighty throng.
Her house is the way to Sheol,
going down to the chambers of death. (Prov. 7:21–27)

Dear Lord Jesus, we’ve been created and re-created to connect with you deeply— to enjoy an intimacy, union, and communion of which our best relationships are only a hint, a whisper, a symbol. But alas, like all good things, our longings get hijacked and sabotaged by sin and death. 

Samson and King David do not stand alone. There are many lonely husbands, many lonely wives, many lonely single people who are primed for a fling, targets for an affair— aching, yearning, reaching for a few minutes of pleasure to medicate months, years, even a lifetime of disconnect and emptiness. It may never become physically sexual, but sometimes just the emotional connection can bring an exhilaration bordering on intoxication, and it is an intoxication that can lead to addiction, then destruction. 

Jesus, even when we’re connecting well, even when our marriages are at a good place, or even when we’re quite content and fulfilled in our singleness, our seduce ability is ever present. Help us, Lord Jesus. How we long for our life in the new heaven and new earth— when we will never be capable of ever sinning again, or even of being tempted. 

The way of the gospel is neither paranoia nor presumption but rather wisdom, care, and freedom. So, Lord Jesus, give us— give me— more gospel sanity. We turn our hearts toward you. You are constantly wooing us in the gospel, saying, “Come away, my beloved.” Who do we have in heaven but you, Lord Jesus, and being with you, who or what could we possibly desire more on this earth? Only your love is better than life. We believe; help our unbelief. We humbly pray in your loving name. 

Amen. 

A Prayer about Church as a Gospel Garden  

If you do away with the yoke of oppression,
with the pointing finger and malicious talk,
and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry
and satisfy the needs of the oppressed,
then your light will rise in the darkness,
and your night will become like the noonday.
The Lord will guide you always;
he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land
and will strengthen your frame.
You will be like a well-watered garden,
like a spring whose waters never fail.
Your people will rebuild the ancient ruins
and will raise up the age-old foundations;
you will be called Repairer of Broken Walls,
Restorer of Streets with Dwellings. (Isa. 58:9–12 NIV)

Heavenly Father, you seem to have a recurring penchant for gardens. Our first home was the garden paradise of Eden, and our future home, the new heaven and new earth, sounds like it’s going to be the Garden of Eden on steroids (Rev. 21:1– 22:6). 

It shouldn’t surprise us, then, that you’d choose the image of a garden to describe our shared life as your redeemed people. The more we’re alive to the life- giving resources of the gospel, the more we’ll become like well-watered gardens— gospel gardens. You plant us in broken cities to bring your beauty and share your bounty, for a garden exists not for its own benefit but for the benefit of others. 

Lord, forgive us when we turn our churches into private orchards or gated estates. You’ve called us to love and to serve the least and the lost, to care for the poor, the oppressed, and the hungry in our communities. To love them well is to love you well. 

Jesus, you are the true seed that was sown that death itself would die. You are the first fruits of a whole new people and a whole new creation order— raised from the dead to bring forth the living waters that alone will never fail, that alone truly satisfy, and which alone will eradicate all evil and injustice one day. 

Jesus, you are the ultimate re-builder of ancient ruins, the “Repairer of Broken Walls,” and the “Restorer of Streets with Dwellings.” Continue your gospel gardening work in us and through us, until the day you return to finish making all things new and all things a garden once again. I pray in your bountiful and beautiful name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about Beloved Thornbushes  

I will block her path with thornbushes;
I will wall her in so that she cannot find her way.
She will chase after her lovers but not catch them;
she will look for them but not find them.
Then she will say,
“I will go back to my husband as at first,
for then I was better off than now.” (Hosea 2:6–7 NIV)

Dear Jesus, I’ve praised you for the fall foliage of western North Carolina; the panoramic wonder of Cape Town, South Africa; everything about Switzerland; the Eden-like echoes in But chart Gardens on Victoria Island; and the azure blue waters kissing the sugar white beaches of Destin, Florida. But today, I praise you for the gift of thorn bushes. 

Jesus, you love us so much that when we love you less, you come after us with tenacity and uncomfortable providence. You are unrelenting in your commitment to rescue our hearts from illusions, mirages, broken cisterns, idols, and wannabe lovers. I wish you didn’t have to be, but I am grateful you are so doggedly committed to us. 

O blessed and beloved thorn bushes, ever block my path when I begin chasing after lesser gods and other lovers. Hedge me in like a formidable fortress. When I set my GPS for an affair of any kind, cause me to lose my bearings and my way. Frustrate my every attempt to look for more, or settle for less, than Jesus. 

Jesus, that you are jealous for us and the affection of our hearts is the greatest compliment you could ever pay us. Who are we that the Lord of glory would make us his bride? Who am I that you would rejoice over me with the festive joy, the impassioned delight, and the desire filled gaze of a bridegroom? 

How I long for the day when I will never again have to say, “I will go back to my husband as at first.” Until that day, Lord Jesus, that consummate wedding day, keep me sane, centered, and settled through the gospel. I pray in your holy and loving name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about Being Oblivious 

Then the mother of the sons of Zebedee came up to him [Jesus] with her sons, and kneeling before him she asked him for something. And he said to her, “What do you want?” She said to him, “Say that these two sons of mine are to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your kingdom.” Jesus answered, “You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I am to drink?” They said to him, “We are able.” (Matt. 20:20–22)  

Lord Jesus, every time I read this story about two of your apostles and their mother asking for a position of privilege and power in your kingdom, I find my incredulity meter going berserk. How in the world could James and John possibly think this request would ever be appropriate, especially given the three years of mentoring and modeling to which you exposed them? Everything you taught and how you lived life absolutely contradicted their request. How dare they, how could they be so oblivious to the obvious? 

But just as I climb onto my hobbyhorse of disgust and judgmentalism, the gospel dismounts me. I have to ask these questions of myself: How am I just like James and John? How do my words, attitudes, and choices contradict the very gospel that I love and defend? Whose incredulity meter am I forcing into overdrive? 

Is it those who live with me or those who work with me? Those who taste my impatience when I’m behind a steering wheel? Those who overhear my idle chatter and self indulgent banter in any of a number of settings? Those most exposed to my unbelief, my fears, my rudeness, my drivenness, my insincerity, my irritability? 

Jesus, I praise you for your patience and forbearance with me. Sit on your right or left? I’m just grateful to be in your kingdom, covered in your righteousness, secure in your heart. I could never drink the cup you alone drank for us on the cross.

The cup I now drink and the bread I now eat remind me of your death, unite me to your life, and call me to your likeness. Jesus, I don’t want to be incredulous over anyone’s sin but my own. Through the gospel, please make me less and less oblivious to my patently obvious need for your transforming grace. I pray in your patient and forbearing name.

Amen.