Category: August

A Prayer about the Renewal of Joy  

Will you not revive us again, that your people may rejoice in you? Show us your unfailing love, Lord, and grant us your salvation. (Ps. 85:6–7 NIV)

Gracious Father, I begin my day thankful for the honesty and candor of your Word, for when you diagnose a problem, you always resource your children with more grace. Today I’m thinking about my need for gospel renewal and restored joy. I join the chorus of many who cry, “Revive us again.” 

When I hear the apostle Paul ask believers in Galatia, “What then has become of the blessing you felt?” (Gal. 4:15), I’m not sure how I’d answer. Have I fallen back into legalism? Am I struggling with unbelief? Am I looking for joy somewhere else? Have I hoarded my hurts and wounds to keep them from you? Am I angry at you and don’t want to admit it? I’m not sure how or where my heart began to leak joy, but I don’t want to get used to this condition. Show me, Lord. 

Since your joy is my strength, Father (Neh. 8:10), cause my heart muscle to beat afresh with your joy, the joy that fills the courts of heaven. Holy Spirit, since joy is one of the fruits you grow in the lives of the children of God, please weed, prune, and fertilize my heart for a fresh crop. 

Jesus, since you are praying for the fullness of your joy to be in us (John 17:13), I will live with anticipation and hope, for your prayers never fail. Though I’ve never seen you, I do love you, and I love you because you first loved me and gave your- self for me on the cross. Fill me afresh with the inexpressible and glorious joy of the salvation you have won for us (1 Pet. 1:8–9). I pray in your trustworthy name. 

Amen. 

A Prayer about Being Desired by Jesus  

I am my beloved’s, and his desire is for me. (Song of Sol. 7:10)  

Dear Jesus, the Song of Solomon has never been one of the most underlined books in my Bible, but the more I look for you in all the Scriptures (Luke 24:25–27), the more I’m drawn to its startling, scintillating, sensual imagery. To read the Song of Solomon is to tap into our deepest longings for intimacy, playfulness, passion, and delight—knowing and being known by you. 

Indeed, you are the great lover of whom this book speaks. In our best moments, our love for one another is a mere hint and whisper of the way you love us. And we are the beloved, the bride upon whom you’ve set your deepest affections and for whom you’ve given your very life. 

This isn’t the gospel I grew up with, but this is the gospel. To be desired is to be wanted, pursued, enjoyed, seen and accepted, known and nourished, remembered and cherished. All of this is promised and provided in the gospel.

Only the Holy Spirit can enable us to believe and experience the liberating truths, the unparalleled beauty, and the oceans of delight revealed in this book and held out in the gospel. So I cry out today: come, Holy Spirit, come. Rescue me and my friends from our unbelief; dethrone my false notions of God and the gospel; soften my hard heart. It’s one thing to rest in Jesus’ finished work, but it’s another thing to be alive to his present desire. Do a great work in our hearts, Holy Spirit. Do a fresh work in my heart. 

Forgive me, Jesus, for believing that any human being could possibly satisfy the very longings you created in me. Forgive me, Jesus, for assuming I could ever be to someone else what you alone can be. Help all of us— the unmarried, the happily married, and the miserably married— to realize that you, Jesus, are the spouse we always wanted and the one to whom we belong. And more importantly, Jesus, help us to believe that you are the spouse who always wanted us. We pray in your peerless name.

Amen. 

A Prayer for Hearing the Voice of the Holy Spirit  

For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, “Abba! Father!” The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God. (Rom. 8:15–16)  

Gracious Father, on any given day a number of voices contend for our attention. There are the voices of the past, sometimes yammering loudly, sometimes just nickeling and diming our peace away with the refrain “You still don’t have a clue, do you? You haven’t changed one bit. Why would God ever love someone like you? Didn’t I tell you you’d never amount to much? If people really knew who you are . . .” 

Then there are the voices of the present, often hijacked by our defeated enemy, Satan. His incessant scheme is to tempt, seduce, then accuse us—doing everything possible to rob us of our enjoyment of the gospel. Sometimes he shouts; more often he whispers; always he’s conniving and always he’s condemning. 

Then there are the voices from the future, usually fueling our fears with suggestions like “You’re not as sharp as you used to be, are you? You’ll probably be for- gotten, won’t you? You’ll eventually end up alone, right? Why do you think God would let someone like you into heaven?” 

But then there’s the voice of the Holy Spirit. Oh, how we praise you for that one voice that transcends and trumps every other voice—the gossiper of the gospel, the herald of our healing, the bearer of beauty, the messenger of mercy, the singer of sanity, the cantor of Christ—God the Holy Spirit testifying with our spirits that we are your bought, belonging, and beloved children. How we praise you for the ministry of the Holy Spirit. 

Abba, Father, by the Spirit of son ship, continue to free us from all of our slavish fears— past, present, and future. May the Spirit speak so loudly that every dark voice is muted. May he speak so clearly that every deceiving lie is silenced. May he speak so convincingly that every paralyzing doubt is routed. We pray expectantly, in Jesus’ tender and triumphant name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about Loving Well  

And so we know and rely on the love God has for us. God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them. This is how love is made complete among us so that we will have confidence on the day of judgment: In this world we are like Jesus. There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love. We love because he first loved us. (1 John 4:16–19 NIV)  

Gracious Jesus, today I’m remembering the call to love well all kinds of people in all kinds of situations. I’m recognizable as one of your disciples by the way I love others (John 13:34). This would be an unbearable burden if you didn’t love us as you do. We love you, and anybody, only because you first loved us. 

Because of your great love for us, Jesus, we don’t have to fear judgment day. Your cross is judgment day for all who trust in you. You took the punishment I deserve for all the ways I love so poorly. I now rely on the love you have for me. In that assurance, here’s my plea, Jesus. 

Help me love well the members of my immediate family. They are at the same time the easiest and the hardest people to love, day in and day out. Sometimes I think I have the greatest family on the earth; sometimes I think we’d trade one an other in for a Diet Coke. Bring your kindness, compassion, patience, and perseverance to bear. Help us to provoke one another to love and good deeds, and not just provoke one another. 

Jesus, help me to love my friends well. Help me not to take them for granted. Help me know how to give my friends feedback lovingly and receive feedback from them without being defensive. Forgive me when I want friendship to be simply a mutual admiration society rather than a community of groaning, grace, and growth. 

Help me to know how to love the irritating people in my life, those I try hard to avoid. Help me know how to love the foolish people in my life, the ones making destructive choices, the ones I’m mad at right now. 

Help me know how to love the depressed and sad people in my life. I instinctively try to fix them and make them happy, but I know that’s not really what they need from me. Help me to love the poor, the orphans and widows, the marginalized, “the least and the lost,” for among them I will surely find you, Jesus. I pray in your compassionate name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about the Full Extent of Jesus’ Love  

Having loved his own who were in the world, he [Jesus] loved them to the end. (John 13:1 NIV)  

Dear Jesus, this story always grabs my heart, but today it’s rekindling awe. It’s the night of your betrayal— the night you would be denied and abandoned not just by Peter but by all of the disciples. You knew this and yet you persisted in disrobing yourself, bending low, and washing the dirty feet of these broken, bungling men. 

The beauty and truth revealed in this scene is what keeps me sane— gospel sane. It anchors me when I lose my moorings, centers me when I feel crazy, quiets me when I’m restless, reels my heart in when I am in a wandering mode. 

This is how you love each of your followers, all of your disciples, your whole bride. You’ve made us your own. You bought us with the very price of your blood. We were redeemed from sin and death and placed into your righteousness and em- brace. Absolutely nothing can separate us from your love. 

While we’re in this world, you’re constantly loving us. You’re loving us when we’re alive to your presence and affections, and you’re loving us when it feels like you’re ignoring our prayers, indifferent to our pain, or displeased with our lives. In fact, whether we perceive it or not, the most constant can be counted upon reality in our lives is not death and taxes but your loving-kindness. 

Jesus, it’s the last line in this little verse that nearly does me in. As with the men in the upper room, so with those of us in any of a number of rooms right now: you’re still committed to showing us the full extent of your love— its height, depth, width, and breadth. 

This turns our gaze to your cross, for it’s in your death, Jesus, that we realize that there’s no greater love to be found anywhere. On the cross, you laid down your life for others: for the rebel other, the foolish other, the sinful other— for me. 

Though you died for a huge pan-national bride, I declare today that the Son of God loved me and gave himself for me (Gal. 2:20). This isn’t narcissism; it is necessity. It’s not selfish; it’s sacred. It’s not Western individualism; it’s deeply personal. I’m once again in awe, Jesus. Intensify my awe even more on this hot August day. I pray in your truly astonishing name.

Amen. 

A Prayer for Renewal in Our Hearts and Churches  

You are the salt of the earth, but if salt has lost its taste, how shall its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything except to be thrown out and trampled under people’s feet. You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven. (Matt. 5:13–16)  

Gracious Jesus, at times I fantasize about running off to Switzerland with my family; living in a community of chalets with several other “healthy” families; escaping the craziness of church life; disengaging from the chaos of my culture; eating good food; “enjoying” the Christian life; and waiting for your second coming. That’s a confession of sin, not a prayer request. 

For starters, I know I couldn’t afford to pay for such a selfish fantasy. More importantly, I realize this isn’t the lifestyle for which you’ve redeemed us. The church belongs to you, Jesus; she’s your beloved bride. Yet, as with everything else, we often take the church into the idol factory of our hearts and retool her to be an ingrown club for our own satisfaction. Forgive us, Jesus. Forgive me. 

You’ve called and commissioned us to live as the “salt of the earth.” We’re not garlic, paprika, or sugar; we’re salt. Salt preserves and fends off decay. Salt heals and soothes— it has medicinal value. Salt brings flavor and enhances other flavors. And salt only “works” when it’s out of the saltshaker. Alas, my own prayer convicts me. 

Jesus, how does a believer lose their saltiness, or for that matter, how does a whole church family lose their vision and passion? What’s involved in flavor loss? More importantly, what does renewal look like? 

Come, Holy Spirit, come. We need you to stir our hearts. Only you are powerful enough to result the desalted; to bring us back to gospel sanity; to restore in us the joy of God’s salvation; to reengage the disengaged with God’s plan for our communities, the cities, and the nations. 

How we praise you that our cry is your pleasure. Before we ask you know our need. Do exceedingly beyond all we ask and can imagine. We pray gratefully, in Jesus’ merciful and mighty name.

Amen. 

A Prayer for Broken Hearts and Crushed Spirits  

The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit. (Ps. 34:18)  

Dear Lord Jesus, there’s no Savior like you— none so kind, so compassionate, so merciful, so very close. The brokenhearted don’t need to “buck up” and be brave when they see you coming. The crushed in spirit don’t need to pull themselves together, as though you would be greatly disappointed to find us less than conquerors. 

We praise you that the gospel is heaven’s declared end to all pretense and pretending. Jesus, you have no need for us to be anything other than we actually are. It’s the proud you know from afar. It’s those who need your grace to whom you are nearer than the next breath. This gives us incalculable comfort as we bring our- selves and a wide array of weary friends before you today. 

Jesus, we pray for our friends struggling with infertility. They don’t need any more words; they simply want a baby to love to your glory. The tragedy of abortion on demand, the growing population of neglected children, and the ever-increasing cost of adoption has strained their sensibilities and faith. Bring glory to yourself in this and similar stories, Jesus. And show us how to love well beyond our usual pat answers. 

Jesus, we pray for weary friends serving on church staffs or in vocational ministry. Many of them wake up today disillusioned, depleted, and despondent. We naively assume some jobs should be beyond the gamesmanship and brokenness we find in other vocational settings. But sinners saved by grace are still sinners, no matter where they work. Grant wisdom, humility, and grace for hard decisions to be made and implemented to your glory. And where the world, rather than the gospel, seems to be winning the day, grant quick and sure repentances. 

Jesus, for those of us who don’t feel crushed in spirit but rather feel discombobulated in spirit, help us to sort through the issues. Show us what is repentable and what is repairable, and help us quiet our noisy hearts so we can hear you speak. We need your presence much, much more than we need circumstances and people to change. 

Jesus, today and every day, we declare that our hope is built on nothing else, nothing less, and nothing more than you and what you’ve done for us on the cross. We pray in your near and compassionate name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about Paralyzed Friends  

They gathered in such large numbers that there was no room left, not even out- side the door, and he preached the word to them. Some men came, bringing to him a paralyzed man, carried by four of them. Since they could not get him to Jesus because of the crowd, they made an opening in the roof above Jesus by digging through it and then lowered the mat the man was lying on. (Mark 2:2–4 NIV)  

Merciful Jesus, all of us have friends who are paralyzed by a variety of conditions. We lift them up to your throne of grace today, thankful we don’t have to fight crowds or remove any roof tiles to get to you. 

We bring you our friends still paralyzed by sin and death. You healed the paralytic to demonstrate your authority on earth to forgive sins (Mark 2:5–12). There’s no greater or more necessary healing than to be raised from spiritual death. So, Jesus, for the praise of your glory, we bring you our friends who have yet to receive the righteousness that comes only by faith. Save them from both religion and non religion. Give them faith that they might receive your grace. 

Jesus, we bring you our friends paralyzed by shame, guilt, and contempt. Breathe gospel healing into our friends who are being constantly assaulted by “the accuser of the brethren” about real and imaginary failures. Let them experientially know there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ (Rom. 8:1). Without this knowledge they won’t be able to repent, heal, and get their eyes off themselves. 

Jesus, we bring you our friends paralyzed by old wounds, still raw with pain and grief. For our friends who have suffered various degrees of abuse and trauma, please bring the gospel to bear with great power and healing hope. And give us wisdom about how to love and be patient with them. 

Jesus, we bring you our friends paralyzed by various obsessions and addictions. Before your throne of grace, we bring those who are hooked into pornography and other sexual entanglements, chemical and drug abuse, eating disorders, self righteousness and legalism, greed, gossip, preoccupation with physical beauty, and so many other conditions for which the gospel alone provides sufficient power and grace. 

Lastly, Jesus, we bring you our friends paralyzed by the demands of care giving. On behalf of those called to love heroically in situations that have depleted them emotionally, financially, spiritually, and physically, we cry for great mercy, Jesus. 

Thank you for the privilege of both praying for our friends and being sent as a part of the answer to these prayers. We pray in your faithful name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about Bringing Encouragement  

Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how to stir up one another on to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near. (Heb. 10:23–25)  

Jesus, as I meditate my way through this “let us” patch of gospel admonitions today, a couple of things stand out. On one hand, I’m convicted about the importance of holding on to the hope you’ve won for us— a living hope, an anchor of hope, a glorious hope. Our hope is certain, but I certainly need to “hold it” like I hold a treasured fly rod or one of my cameras. We’re meant to enjoy hope, not fear losing it. 

It’s also so good to remember that I’m not called to “hope against hope” or to hope in hope, but to hope in you. For you’ve made promises you alone can keep, and you are not a man, that you should lie. You’re faithful and you’re loving, and that’s all I need to know. Not hoping is not an option.

Jesus, this Scripture also convicts me about the importance of being a lot more intentional and regular in bringing encouragement to my friends, my family members, and those you put in my way. As the great day of your return approaches— the day when all hoping in part will give way to the fullness of hope—help me to speak your words of life and hope and healing to those who need them the most. Help me to bring your hands of mercy and grace to bear in very tangible and timely ways. 

Very specifically, just as we celebrate your coming to us in the person of Jesus, to whom would you send me today? Put names and faces before me who need the encouragement you alone can bring, Jesus. May the glory of that day bring the grace of encouragement to this day. I pray in your loving name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about Prayer  

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. (Phil. 4:6–7)  

Heavenly Father, as I read these words from Paul, I’m convicted about my prayer life. In some ways I’m more certain of what I don’t believe about prayer than I’m settled on what I do believe. So I’m praying about prayer today, and I humbly own my need for the Spirit to teach me and free me. Give me a renewed love for spending much time with you in vital, expectant prayer.

I praise you for the promise of peace through prayer. Irrespective of how you might choose to answer my prayers, you promise a transcendent peace to those who bring their petitions, thanksgiving, and requests to you. The promise of your peace “guarding my heart and mind” is so encouraging. That’s where the most critical battles of life are waged— right there in the arena of my thinking, feeling, and choosing. 

Father, please teach me more about the relationship between your sovereignty and my praying. I know you to be the God who works all things together after the counsel of your will (hallelujah!), so how does my praying fit into the outworking of your perfect and irrepressible plan for all things? Send me to the Scriptures that will help me understand this mystery. How do persistence and surrender work hand in hand? 

Father, help me understand some of the mechanics of prayer. The teaching I had on prayer as a young believer led me to believe that the likelihood of an affirmative answer to prayer was directly related to how many people were praying. But that’s how pagans pray— stirring a begrudging god to action by more commotion. So what is the value of corporate prayer? You commend it, even command it. What re- ally happens when we gather together to cry out to our great and gracious God in Jesus’ name? Teach me. 

Forgive me and help me, Father. I know I have over corrected in the direction of being a generalist in prayer. I don’t tend to ask for very much specifically in prayer, and therefore I don’t tend to expect very much specifically from prayer. Teach me to be more bold in my asking and trusting of your answering. I pray in Jesus’ gracious name.

Amen.