Author: Sahed

A Prayer about Hope Setting  

Therefore, prepare your minds for action, and being sober-minded; set your hope fully on the grace that will be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ. (1 Pet. 1:13)  

Heavenly Father, you won’t let us get away from thinking about your grace for even one minute, will you? And let me hasten to say thank you, thank you, thank you. 

I praise you for the day you finally convinced the legalist and leper in me that salvation is by grace alone through faith alone. I praise you for the ongoing schooling in the sufficiency of your grace for all the broken things in my life: broken relationships, broken health, broken promises, broken church . . . broken me. 

And now I praise you for commanding me to set my hope on yet to be received grace— the unleashed fullness, the unfettered wonder, the undiminished glory of your contra-conditional love for us in Jesus. There is no God like you. There is no God so immeasurably generous with such ill-deserving people like me.

Help me to remember that this hope-setting command is just as much a command to be obeyed as “Do not lie, do not steal, and do not covet.” You are serious about where we set our hope. 

Father, you are so wise, for you know if we don’t intentionally and fully set our hope on your present and future grace, we’ll set it somewhere else: on saviors that cannot save, on people who are not God, on gospels that are not gospels, and on idols that will ultimately fail us. 

Lord Jesus, I’ve never so looked forward to the day when you will be fully revealed— when the first fruits of grace will give way to the full harvest of grace, your gathered bride and renewed world. Until that day, keep us engaged in your story of redemption and restoration. Where do we work for justice? Where do we show your mercy? How shall we walk humbly with our God? We ask and pray in your trustworthy name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about the Triumph of Mercy  

So speak and so act as those who are to be judged under the law of liberty. For judgment is without mercy to one who has shown no mercy. Mercy triumphs over judgment. (James 2:12–13)  

Jesus, my heart is stunned today with a fresh awareness of your mercy. You are, indeed, a most wonderful, merciful Savior. Because of what you’ve done for us, I’m no longer afraid to die; I don’t have fears about the life to come. And I’m not afraid to live, for I’m not at all uncertain about what God thinks about me, for by your life and death, you did everything necessary not just to reconcile me to God but also to place me in his eternal favor and delight. Mercy trumped judgment, on my behalf!

Now, all day long, every minute of every day, Jesus, you constantly show me mercy. You do not give me what I deserve, but instead you give me more grace. In the gospel you are incessantly speaking words of encouragement, hope, and kindness to me. Even when you have to correct me, which is quite often, you give me life giving rebukes, not shame-inducing stares or guilt-inflicting words. Mercy continually trumps judgment on my behalf. 

Jesus, you’ve completely reoriented my relationship to the Scriptures as well. The law that used to condemn me now consoles me; that which used to be a source of fear in me has become a source of freedom for me. Because the gospel is true, I can now honestly say, “the law of the Lord is perfect, reviving the soul”— my soul. 

Jesus, in view of so much mercy, your mercy for me, I have no excuses. I cannot justify allowing my judgmental attitude to trump your mercy in any of the difficult relationships and situations I now find myself. Help me to speak and act today as someone for whom the triumph of mercy over judgment is complete. Help me to speak and act as someone the Son of God has set free, free indeed. 

I need wisdom, gospel wisdom, to live and love this radical way. I fear being exploited, but my greater fear is being cold hearted. Have mercy on me, Jesus; continue to have mercy on me. I pray in your loving and strong name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about the Stewardship of Hatred  

We know that we have passed out of death into life, because we love the brothers. Whoever does not love abides in death. Everyone who hates his brother is a murderer, and you know that no murderer has eternal life abiding in him. (1 John 3:14–15)  

Merciful Father, there are a lot of things I rather casually express hatred for. I hate stringy canned asparagus. I hate bumper to bumper traffic going in my direction. I hate high humidity days when I want to jog. I hate pulling out a nearly empty milk carton from the refrigerator when I’m primed for a big bowl of cereal. I hate loud talking in a quiet restaurant when I’m already peopled out. I hate having to engage in deep conversation after 9:00 p.m. 

But this portion of your Word puts all of my hating into perspective. I’m sobered by the warning concerning the hatred of people— especially hating my brothers and sisters in Christ. Holy Spirit, I ask you to examine my heart and quicken my memory. Who are the people toward whom I have feelings of hatred? Though I may have never spoken the violent words “I hate you!” to their face, nevertheless I’ve committed murder in my heart. I’ve relished their reversals, dreamed of their demise, and longed for their languishing. 

Big disappointments and painful betrayals are common in life, even by the hands of those with whom we share life in Christ. Some of us have been egregiously violated and seriously abused, too often by those we were trained to trust. But when our real hurt grows to retaliatory anger and our anger morphs into spiteful hatred, arrest our hearts, Lord. Let me see the ways I become the very thing I hate. Bring us back to gospel sanity, sooner rather than later. 

Vengeance belongs to you, not us, Father. Even as you are a God of mercy, you are also a God of justice. We can trust you for both. You do all things well, in your timing, for your glory and for our good. 

Receive our praise, O God, for bringing us from death to life in Jesus. Receive our praise, Lord Jesus, for becoming the hater and the hated on the cross for us, for me. May the gospel compel me to hate evil and to hate my sin more than I hate anything or anyone else in the world. Receive our praise, Holy Spirit, for constantly gossiping the gospel to our hearts. I pray in the holy and compassionate name of our Triune God.

Amen. 

A Prayer about Grace for Grumpiness  

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. (2 Cor. 12:9)  

Heavenly Father, I’m waking up humbled and repentant. I need some of your manifold sufficient grace today— just like every day. Not only do I need your grace for owning and boasting in my weaknesses, but I need your grace so that I will stop despising weaknesses in others. I’ve had the attitude of a grumpy toddler, indulged my impatience, and been a serial killer in my heart. I need the gospel today. 

Though I’d love to justify myself, there is no such justification. I’m a selfish man who would love for everything and everyone to make my life tolerable, predictable, and manageable. I assume the right to green lights at every intersection. I assume there will be an open cash register when I’m ready to check out. I assume the fish will be biting. 

What is worse, there are times when I don’t want people to fear the stuff they should fear, struggle with the same things I struggle with, or simply be the normal sinners that we all are. God, have mercy on me, the sinner . . . 

Abba, Father, I’m so thankful that your love for me is steadfast and that I can count on new mercies every morning, including this morning, and all day long. I not only grieve my attitude, I do repent and abandon myself to the resources of the gospel. 

Lord Jesus, I want and I need your power to rest on me and to settle my restless heart. I’ll not pray about next week or even tomorrow. Just give me the manna of gospel kindness for this one day. Help me to respond gently and not react rigidly to the weaknesses of others. Help me to roll up my sleeves and not roll my eyes when I meet brokenness in others. Help me to love as you love me, for that is the bottom line and the top priority. I pray in your powerful name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about My Dad’s Welcome Home  

I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far.
(Phil. 1:23 NIV) 

We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body and at home with the Lord. (2 Cor. 5:8 NIV)  

Dear Jesus, I already had so much to be thankful for this Thanksgiving season, but now you’ve upped the ante considerably; you’ve fueled the furnace of my gratitude; you’ve added grace upon grace. I praise you that my dad finally knows the “better by far” of being with you. As of last night, he’s gone from that ninety-one-year-old, Alzheimer’s-invaded body and is free at last. He’s at home with you. What more could I possibly want for my dad? Hallelujah, the gospel is true! 

No more of my dad looking at me with kind eyes but with a clueless expression about who I am or even what the word son means. No more loss of dignity and no more limits on delight; no more grabbing for a thought or gasping for a breath; no more confinements, confusion, or cares about anything; no more wandering around, just the wonder of your glory and the fullness of your grace. Hallelujah, the gospel is true! 

Jesus, though my dad and I were never able to carry on deep conversations about you or engage in meaty biblical and theological discussions, right now he knows more about you than I ever dreamed was knowable. He’s experiencing the promised “more than all we ask or imagine” (Eph. 3:20 NIV), while I still have to ask and try to imagine. Everything I know about your beauty and bounty can fit into a thimble, with room left over, compared to what my dad now knows to be true about you. Hallelujah, the gospel is true! 

Jesus, knowing he’s with you also thrills me to think about the company he’s now keeping— the fellowship dad is enjoying. I love the thought of my dad and mom seeing each other again after forty-nine years. Indeed, to be present with you is to be present with everybody else in heaven. My dad is in heaven not because he was a good man (though he was) but because you are a great Savior. Hallelujah, the gospel is true! 

I make my prayer with great thanks, in your merciful and mighty name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about Gospelicious Friends  

I thank my God every time I remember you. In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now, being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. (Phil. 1:3–6 NIV)  

Heavenly Father, it’s Thanksgiving, and of all the things I’m grateful for, I’m especially thankful today for the women and men you’ve used over the years to bring me into a greater understanding and experience of the gospel. 

I praise you for friends who’ve helped me understand the lyric of the gospel— theology. As a young convert my arrogant mantra was, “Don’t give me theology, just give me Jesus.” My sentiments were good, but my sensibilities were shoddy. To speak the name Jesus is to do theology. Thank you for patient teachers who have opened the Scriptures and have shown me the real Jesus— the one who lived and died in my place and who is making all things new.

I praise you for friends who’ve helped me hear and experience the music of the gospel. For those broken and beautiful saints who have helped me get a taste of the radical goodness of the gospel—its life giving liberty, its healing melody, its soul engaging joy— I praise you, Father. Now I know you to be a God who greatly delights in your people, who quiets us with his love, who rejoices over us with singing. This is astonishing, even shocking, and it’s all because of what Jesus has done for us.

I praise you for friends who’ve been modeling the missional dance of the gospel for me. It’s encouraging and challenging to discover the whole world as the dance floor of grace. Father, you created all things and you are redeeming all things, and when you get wild prodigals and stuffy elder brothers into your dance of the gospel, you take the dance outside of the house into our neighborhoods and among the nations. Thank you for my dance instructors. 

Lord Jesus, you crushed the head of the serpent for us, and you will soon crush him under our own feet (Rom. 16:20). The gospel of the kingdom is infiltrating and transforming every sphere of life, and our future is so far beyond all that we can ask or imagine. On this Thanksgiving morning, I am most of all thankful for you, for you are the gospel. I pray in your glorious name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about Running after the Wrong Things  

So do not worry, saying, “What shall we eat?” or “What shall we drink?” or “What shall we wear?” For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. (Matt. 6:31–33 NIV)  

Lord Jesus, this is one early morning I don’t feel alone at all. From where I’m seated, I can already see streams of cars heading for the stores and malls, and it’s only 4:00 in the morning! They call it Black Friday, the day after Thanksgiving— a day when your words about “running after all these things” really come to life. 

People will be pushing against doors, running up aisles, and grabbing for items. They’ll act like famished people who haven’t eaten in weeks with manners that would usually embarrass most grandmothers— except today, because the grandmothers are right there with them. 

Jesus, I’m not sitting here smugly judging anyone, for there’s no one, by nature, more greedy or grabby than me. I thank you that I live in a time and place of abundance. I thank you I’ve never had to be concerned about what I’ll eat, drink, or wear. I even thank you that many people will enjoy fine savings and get real bargains today. 

But on this Black Friday, I’m especially grateful for Good Friday and what you accomplished on the cross. It’s only because of you, Jesus, that I know God as Abba, Father— who knows my every need, who answers before I ask, who gives me all things richly to enjoy, who satisfies my hunger, slakes my thirst, and clothes me. Lord Jesus, to be clothed in your righteousness, to feast upon you as the Bread of Life, to drink the living water you alone can give—I am a wealthy man beyond all accounting.

In this next season of our lives, show us, Jesus, how to seek your kingdom first, above everything else. Rather than spending more money on ourselves, where would you have us invest our time, talent, and treasure; our energy, tears, and laughter? What new chapters of your story of redemption and restoration would you write through us? We pray with gratitude and anticipation, in your loving name. 

Amen. 

A Prayer about “Seventy Times Seven” Forgiveness  

Then Peter came up and said to him [Jesus], “Lord, how often will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?” Jesus said to him, “I do not say seven times, but seventy times seven.” (Matt. 18:21–22) 

Jesus, I’m sure I’ve read this story at least seventy-seven times since the day you rescued me from the dominion of darkness and planted me in your kingdom of grace. But I need to keep on reading it, because forgiveness is as daily as breathing, eating, and sleeping. 

I know I sin against you in thought, word, and deed, every hour of every day. Jesus, I also know that you’ve already forgiven all of my sins, past, present, and future. Such is the wonder of the gospel. 

When I confess my sins and ask your forgiveness, I don’t get more or new forgiveness. I humble myself and appropriate the forgiveness that you’ve already given me. Jesus, you’re not informed by my confession of sin. You know it’s a lot worse than I realize. You also know that your grace and forgiveness are far more abounding and thorough than I realize. 

Where can greater riches be found? That’s the most rhetorical question I can imagine. Nothing compares with the treasures we’ve received in the gospel. Jesus, right now I confess how much I take your forgiveness for granted. I recognize this because there are a few “seventy times seven” forgiveness scenarios that are gnawing away at my peace and nibbling on my joy like tiny piranha. 

I’ve forgiven seven times, but now I want them to pay; I want to be smug; I want to retreat into self-righteousness; I want to gossip and tell others not to trust those who have hurt me. In short, Jesus, I am a mess. I needed to write these feelings out so I could see just how ugly my heart can be. 

Here’s my cry: come, Holy Spirit, come; apply the power of the gospel to my heart today. Slay the wicked servant in me. Humble me, gentle me, settle me, focus me, free me. Love in me and through me, for the glory of God. I pray in Jesus’ perfectly holy and forgiving name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about My Restless, Antsy Heart  

Be still, and know that I am God.
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth! (Ps. 46:10)

Heavenly Father, I don’t have “ants in my pants,” but I am antsy. I don’t have “restless leg syndrome,” but I do have a restless heart. That’s why the command to be still and know that you are God comes like a kiss from heaven. Please bring the settling and centering power of the gospel to bear, for my sake and the benefit of those around me. 

I’m not sure what all’s going on inside of me. I haven’t been able to identify all the issues, but I know I’m not as peaceful, quiet, or trusting as I want to be or as you intend. 

When I get in this anxious, edgy, squirmy place, I usually run to my control idols. I try to micromanage the chaos— and whoever and whatever else is in sight. I start acting either like an orphan or like the fourth member of the Trinity, vacillating between fear and arrogance. I cannot remember a time when that ever led to anything good. Usually it just makes other people wary and weary of being around me, especially members of my family.

So I humble myself before you, loving Father. I come boldly to an occupied throne of grace, throwing down my plastic scepter and presumption about being in control. You who will be exalted among the nations, be exalted in my heart, my day, my circumstances. 

Lord Jesus, take captive my roaming thoughts. As you spoke and stilled the tossing waves for nervous disciples, speak and still my disquieted emotions— even if nothing or no one around me changes. As you harnessed the power of the wind, harness the passions of my will, that I might obey the gospel of grace. I pray in your mighty and merciful name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about Overflowing Gratitude  

So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live your lives in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness. (Col. 2:6–7 NIV)  

Lord Jesus, I want to be a man who gives you the quality and quantity of thanks of which you are so absolutely worthy. Not like a slow drip, a babbling brook, or a meandering stream, but like a geyser— a gospel geyser. I want to overflow with thankfulness, to the praise of your glory and grace! 

I have every reason to be like the healed Samaritan leper, who with a stunned heart and irrepressible gratitude returned to give you heartfelt thanks (Luke 17:11– 17). I return today, and I want to return every day, to express my profound thankfulness. 

From the first nanosecond I was given faith to receive you as Savior and Lord, I was fully and firmly rooted in your righteousness and love. Now, completely for- given, I have no other righteousness than yours. Just as I cannot add one iota to your righteousness, I can never, ever be separated from your love, and your love alone is better than life. You have already set me free from the penalty of sin, you are continually setting me free from the power of sin, and one day you will set me free from the very presence of sin.

Jesus, I want to live in you, reflecting upon your glory with an unveiled face and marinating in the riches of your unfailing grace. I want to be built up in you, maturing by the same grace that saved me, being liberated for the race that you’ve set be- fore me. I want to be strengthened in you, forgiving others as you have forgiven me, forbearing with others as you forbear with me, accepting others as you accept me.

Lord Jesus, I would love to be done with all carping and droning, with all whining and complaining, with all boohooing and Eeyoring, and with every other expression of ingratitude. So rise up in me, O living water, unto eternal life. Artesian spring of grace, come forth with such compelling and propelling force that my thanks will be not miserly but geyserly. I pray in Jesus’ name.

Amen.