Category: August

A Prayer about My Heart’s Destination  

May the Lord direct your hearts to the love of God and to the steadfastness of Christ. (2 Thess. 3:5)  

Holy Father, the hymn writer must have been thinking about me when he penned the words, “Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, prone to leave the God I love. Take my heart, O take and seal it, seal it for thy courts above.” There are days when my heart instinctively races in so many unhealthy, even destructive directions. 

Some days I wake up with my heart running to self-pity, when my disappointments loom larger than your delights. Some days the GPS of my heart seems to be programmed for a need to be appreciated and approved by people, when my insecurities are shouting down your name and praise. Some days I lace up my running shoes for a quick jog to unforgiveness and bitterness, when I’ve been rehearsing the failures of others more than the riches of the gospel. Still other “unguarded heart days” I take little side trips into lust, greed, envy, resentment, whining, self- righteousness, fear, and a whole host of other fruitless destinations. 

So today, Father, I want you to answer the apostle Paul’s prayer on my behalf, and also on behalf of my friends and family. Please direct our hearts into the lavish resources of your love and the much-needed perseverance of Jesus. I’m not at all affronted when you limit the assumed freedom of my will. By the power of your sovereign goodness, reel in my wandering heart once again and send it into the glorious refuge of your love. I will only persevere to the end as Jesus perseveres in me and for me. 

Jesus, I praise you with humility that you have already given me a new heart. Holy Spirit, I praise you with joy that you have already sealed my heart, once and for all. Father, I praise you with peace that I really can say, “Signed, sealed, delivered, I’m yours!” I pray in Jesus’ trustworthy name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about Gospel Astonishment  

To those who have been called, who are loved in God the Father and kept for Jesus Christ: Mercy, peace and love be yours in abundance.
(Jude 1–2 NIV)  

Glorious Triune God, on this Lord’s Day I’m overwhelmed as I ponder the immeasurable and irrepressible goodness of the life we have in Jesus. Gospel astonishment pretty well describes what I’m feeling. I want to shout and shut up at the same time. 

You didn’t just invite me to become a Christian; you called me and adopted me as your own child. Now I call you Abba, Father, as the Holy Spirit continues to free my heart from acting like a homeless, fatherless orphan. Thank you, Father, that because of the work of Jesus, you will never love me more than you do today and you will never love me less! What wondrous love is this indeed! 

Lord Jesus, help me to grasp your grasp of me. I am both kept by you and kept for you. Nothing can pull me from your hand or tear me from your heart. Many times this seems too good to be true, but it is all the assurance I need to face the rest of my life, even the next hour. 

Indeed, Holy Spirit, bring from the throne of grace into my heart and story an abundance of mercy, for I am a foolish man; peace, for I am a broken man; and love, for I am a selfish man. Be praised on this Lord’s Day and every day, O glorious and grace-full God! I pray in Jesus’ exalted name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about Finishing Well  

To him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you before his glorious presence without fault and with great joy— to the only God our Savior be glory, majesty, power and authority, through Jesus Christ our Lord, before all ages, now and forevermore! Amen. (Jude 24–25 NIV)  

Heavenly Father, the older I get the more I care about finishing this life well. I wish less temptation came with more years. I wish diminishment of physical strength brought an automatic increase in spiritual strength. But that’s not the way it works. 

I need Jesus’ mercy and grace today just as much as the first day you placed me safely in Christ. Thus I abandon myself to the promises that overflow in this pas- sage. They are a balm to my whole being. 

I praise you, Father, that the most important grasp in the gospel is yours, not mine. You will keep me from ultimately falling away from you. And when I do falter, fall, and fail to love you and others as I am commanded in the gospel, you will pick me up. 

As hard as it is to imagine, especially in my times of weakness, one day you will present me before your glorious presence without fault and with great joy. How many times do I have to say that for my heart to really believe it? Without fault and with great joy . . . without fault and with great joy . . . without fault and with great joy! 

Indeed, may my heart passionately proclaim with myriads of angels and countless believers: to the only God our Savior be glory, majesty, power, and authority, in this life and in the life to come! 

Jesus, trusting in the life you lived for me as the second Adam, the life you gave for me as the Lamb of God, and the life you now live through me as my hope of glory, I will finish well— without fault and with great joy . . . without fault and with great joy . . . without fault and with great joy! I pray in your glorious name.

Amen. 

A Prayer for Those We Love  

This is what the Lord says—
he who made you, who formed you in the womb,
and who will help you:
Do not be afraid, Jacob, my servant,
Jeshurun, whom I have chosen.
For I will pour water on the thirsty land,
and streams on the dry ground;
I will pour out my Spirit on your offspring,
and my blessing on your descendants.
They will spring up like grass in a meadow,
like poplar trees by flowing streams.
Some will say, “I belong to the Lord”;
others will call themselves by the name of Jacob;
still others will write on their hand, “The Lord’s,”
and will take the name Israel. (Isa. 44:2–5 NIV)

Compassionate Father, today we bring before you those we love, especially members of our families. How we long for you to be gracious on behalf of our children, our parents, our siblings, our extended families, and our friends. O Lord, there are so many for whom we carry heartbreaking concerns and heavy burdens. 

Gracious Father, thank you not only for forming us in our mother’s womb but also for revealing Jesus in our inner hearts. This gives us great courage in asking you to pour out your Spirit on a vast array of people we know: for our children, siblings, and parents who don’t know you, Father, bring them to a saving knowledge of Jesus. Above all, we are praying that a very real knowledge and experience of the grace and truth of the gospel will capture their hearts. More than anything else, we long to hear those we love say, “I belong to the Lord.” 

Holy Spirit, for our family members and friends who are living like destructive idiots and senseless morons, do whatever it takes to save them from themselves. Arrest them in their foolishness and spare them with the fullness of your grace. To the meadows of their madness, bring the grandeur of your goodness. 

Jesus, for those we know who love you deeply but are living in hard stories of failing health, financial stress, emotional and mental illness, marital meltdown, and spiritual disconnect, pour forth your life-giving Spirit. Where there is floundering, bring flourishing; where there is despair, bring delight; where there is hopelessness, bring fruitfulness—all for your glory. 

We forsake our fears in light of the pledge of your help. We pray in your match- less name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about the Compassion of Jesus  

And Jesus went throughout all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the gospel of the kingdom and healing every disease and every affliction. When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, be- cause they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. (Matt. 9:35–36)  

Lord Jesus, there are so many reasons to love you, so many reasons to risk being completely honest and vulnerable with you. Today I’m particularly thankful for your compassion. 

Compassion presupposes merciful feelings. When you look at crowds of harassed and helpless people, you don’t ignore them, you’re not irritated by them, you don’t despise them. Sympathy beats within your breast; kindness overflows. I see this everywhere in the Scriptures. Help me know this is what you feel for me in my den this morning and not just what you felt for the multitudes in Galilee.

At times my theology far outstrips my experience, Jesus— my doctrine being more certain than my doxology. I need your Holy Spirit to convince me afresh that as you look at me right now, it’s mercy you feel. I can’t say I’m either harassed or helpless, but I need to be certain of your compassion nevertheless. 

Compassion requires actual presence. Jesus, when I pray, I’m still inclined to think you’re “up there” somewhere, sitting on a big chair beside the Father, surrounded by a multitude of angels and a lot of singing. But I know better. I know you live in the hearts of every one of us who believe the gospel. I know you’ve promised to never leave us or forsake us. I know that and I really believe it, but would you make it more current and real? Would you come and shepherd my heart today?

Compassion shares the suffering of another. Jesus, it really is enough to know that you suffered for us on the cross. I stake my life and my certain death on this gospel— this good news that you were “pierced for our transgressions . . . crushed for our iniquities” (Isa. 53:5 NIV), that by your blood “you ransomed people for God from every tribe and language and people and nation” (Rev. 5:9). What you suffered on the cross, you suffered once and for all (Heb. 10:1–18), and we worship you now and will worship you forever because of your matchless sacrifice. 

But it’s also as overwhelming as it is comforting to know that you share in our sufferings right now. You suffered for us, once and for all, and you suffer with us now. During the times when you feel so far away, so removed, so disengaged, you could not be nearer than you actually are, Jesus. I pray with gratitude, in your com- passionate name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about Shame  

And the man and his wife were both naked and were unashamed.
(Gen. 2:25)  

Gracious Father, it’s nearly impossible for me to imagine the day when there was no need for the emotion of shame. In their innocence, our first parents were absolutely free of any need to turn away from your gaze, or that of one another. There was no need to fear, cover up, hide, pose, pretend, get defensive, feel guilty, make excuses, blame the other, want to disappear, do penance, numb out, medicate, or try any other broken attempt to deal with the disintegrating effects of shame. 

It is only in you, Jesus, that we now find hope to deal with both our guilt and our shame. For in light of the joy set before you by the Father, you endured the agony of the cross for us, scorning its shame— the shame of being made sin for us— that in you we might become the righteousness of God (2 Cor. 5:21; Heb. 12:2). Indeed, Jesus, those who trust in you will never be put to shame, for you took our shame and made it yours (1 Pet. 2:6) so that we might know the present and eternal favor of God. How can we ever praise you enough for such love? 

Therefore, Jesus, we cry out for freedom today— freedom in our ongoing struggles with shame, both the shame we feel and the shame we give. Though our guilt has been completely taken care of by your work on the cross, Jesus, we still feel varying degrees of shame, and we act out in a variety of destructive ways. We vacillate between self-contempt and other-centered contempt, and both of these contradict and sabotage the very love by which, and for which, we were saved. Indeed, we need the freedom you alone can provide, Jesus. Bring the grace and truth of the gospel to bear in profoundly healing and liberating ways, Lord Jesus. All for your glory, we ask this in Jesus’ freeing name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about God’s Goodness  

And they shall be my people, and I will be their God. I will give them one heart and one way, that they may fear me forever, for their own good and the good of their children after them. I will make with them an everlasting covenant, that I will not turn away from doing good to them. And I will put the fear of me in their hearts, that they may not turn from me. I will rejoice in doing them good, and I will plant them in this land in faithfulness, with all my heart and all my soul. (Jer. 32:38–41)  

Generous Father, I know you don’t lie, but this portion of your Word exposes the depths of my unbelief and my small notions about you. It also invites me to see that the gospel is so much bigger and better than I could ever hope or imagine. 

The first thing I notice is all the “I will’s” connecting this extraordinary catalog of promises. Indeed, Father, you make promises you alone can keep. I praise you for your inviolate commitment to be such an outrageously, immeasurably generous God. 

I praise you for promising never to stop doing good to us and for finding so much joy in doing us good. This is truly overwhelming, almost too good to be true. However, you’ve already “made good” on your promise to make an everlasting covenant with us, and this fuels the fire of our faith. 

Lord Jesus, well beyond Jeremiah’s day, you came and you accomplished everything necessary to prove our Father wasn’t exaggerating. Your life, death, and resurrection, on our behalf, guarantee God is this good, all the time . . . and all the time, God is this good to us!

Because of you, Jesus, we are already perfectly forgiven and have already been declared to be righteous in God’s sight. Because of you, one day we will be made completely whole and the whole creation will be made new. On that day our Father will plant us in the land of the new heaven and new earth. We believe; help us in our unbelief, dear Lord. 

Until that day, Holy Spirit, continue your transforming and liberating work in our lives. Free us to love and serve our God with singleness of heart, affectionate reverence, and gospel-driven obedience. 

Hallelujah, what a salvation! Hallelujah, what a Savior! We pray in Jesus’ triumphant name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about Christmas in August  

For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Of the greatness of his government and peace
there will be no end.
He will reign on David’s throne
and over his kingdom,
establishing and upholding it
with justice and righteousness
from that time on and forever.
The zeal of the Lord Almighty will accomplish this. (Isa. 9:6–7 NIV)

Gracious Jesus, it won’t surprise me one bit if we begin to see Christmas decorations beside Halloween candy on store shelves before September starts. It gets earlier and earlier each year. That being said, it’s never too early to remember why you came into the world. In fact, there’s nothing seasonal about any portion of Scripture. 

There aren’t “Christmas verses” that are the private domain of Advent. There’s just you, and your glory, and your magnificent story of redemption and restoration. Today, on this hot August morning, I’m glad to remember— I need to remember— why you came and what you’re up to right now. 

Jesus, the government of the entire cosmos is already sitting squarely upon your shoulders. Nothing happens apart from your sovereign doings and delight. I don’t have to be vexed over a nuclear-armed Iran any more than I have to be defined by a lousy golf game. It may not be apparent to my naked eye, but everything is subject to you. You were before all things, and in you all things are held together (Col. 1:17). Everything in heaven and on earth is being summed up in you (Eph. 1:10). 

You are Wonderful Counselor— that is, our wisdom from God, our righteousness, holiness, and redemption (1 Cor. 1:30). There is no salvation apart from you. It’s the gospel or despair. You are Mighty God— eternally one with the Father, coequal, coglorious, along with the Holy Spirit. There is nothing you can’t do. You never “try” to do anything. You simply execute your pleasure at your discretion. 

You are Everlasting Father—the Son who perfectly reveals the Father’s image and riches to us. It’s because of you, Jesus, that we’ve been adopted into God’s family and given all the rights and delights of the children of God. You are Prince of Peace— by your life and death, you made peace between God and us. You yourself are our peace, Jesus; you destroyed the hostile barrier that stood between us (Eph. 2:14–15). 

Right now, on this early August morning, you are extending your glorious kingdom of peace. You are “shaloming” all things, making all things new, putting all things right. Justice and righteousness are coming to every place where sin and death have done their worst. All of this is happening because you are the zealous Lord, jealous for his bride, who accomplishes everything he has promised. Suddenly I feel like putting on some Christmas CDs, Jesus! I pray in your peerless name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about My Heart’s Worship  

Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego replied to him, “King Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you in this matter. If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and he will deliver us from Your Majesty’s hand. But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.” (Dan. 3:16–18 NIV)  

Heavenly Father, I’m intrigued, convicted, and encouraged by the faith of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. How refreshing to behold such a nonutilitarian love for you. These three friends worshiped you not because of the gifts you give but because of the God that you are. They were firmly convinced that you could rescue them from the fiery furnace, but even if you didn’t rescue them, it would have no effect on their worship of you. They would rather be delivered into your presence through the fire than worship some other false god just to escape the fire. 

Father, forgive me when my worship varies in response to my perceptions of how well and quick you answer my prayers. As cynical as I am about the “name it and claim it” and prosperity theologies, I’m quite capable of doubting your love when life gets complicated and painful. I want to worship you before there’s a fire, when I’m in the fire, when the fire’s extinguished, or if you should choose to take me home through the fire. 

Lord Jesus, you alone can give me such freedom and love for God. You were the fourth man King Nebuchadnezzar saw walking around in the fiery furnace, and you’re the only one who endured the fiery trial of the cross. Even as you purchased your bride, you never leave or forsake us, at any time or in any trial. 

Because of you, Jesus, we don’t have to be afraid to die, and we don’t have to be afraid to live. May your beauty and grace be so compelling that at the very moment we’re tempted to turn to some false god or idol for temporal deliverance or instant relief, we won’t. We pray in your peerless name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about the Sufferings of Jesus and the Victory of Justice  

And many followed him [Jesus], and he healed them all and ordered them not to make him known. This was to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet Isaiah: “Behold, my servant whom I have chosen, my beloved with whom my soul is well pleased. I will put my Spirit upon him, and he will proclaim justice to the Gen- tiles. He will not quarrel or cry aloud, nor will anyone hear his voice in the streets; a bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not quench, until he brings justice to victory; and in his name the Gentiles will hope.” (Matt. 12:15–21)  

Dear Lord Jesus, I’m greatly moved today as I ponder your compassionate heart for the broken and suffering. Surely there’s no Savior like you: entering, not running from our chaos; taking, not despising our shame; shouldering, not ignoring our burdens. “Bruised reeds” and “smoldering wicks” love your appearing. Justice will be fully victorious because you have been the willing sufferer. 

For sure, for gloriously sure, your sufferings as our sin-bearer are over. As the Lamb of God, you offered yourself once and for all upon the cross. No additional sacrifice for our sin remains to be offered. None. I no longer fear being judged by God for my sin. Your perfect love has driven away all fear of punishment, anxiety about judgment day, and uncertainty about eternity. I boast and rest in your sufferings for me, Lord Jesus, and I also shout a hearty “Hallelujah!” But I also cry out, “Help me, Lord Jesus . . . help me.” 

Help me go with you into the sufferings of friends and family, further into the groans of my own heart, and into the injustices and brokenness of my community. Like most, I have an aversion to pain and suffering. Like many, I’d love for the Christian life to be an antidote for all discomfort and distress. Like some, I get overwhelmed and overtaxed by the sufferings of others. 

Here’s my peace, my consolation, my ballast, Jesus: you’re not calling us to suffer for you but to suffer with you, and that makes all the difference in the world. We’re called into the fellowship of your sufferings, not into the isolation of our sufferings. 

You’ll never lead us into hard places where you’re not present. You’ll never ask us to do anything all by ourselves. You’ll never leave us or forsake us, Jesus. You will lead justice to victory, and in your name all the nations will put their hope. I pray in your kind and compassionate name.

Amen.