When I can’t sleep,
My thoughts turn to you.
Sometimes, I think of you
Through many dark night hours.
I remember how you’ve helped me.
And there on my bed,
I start to sing,
Enfolded in the shadows
Of your eagle wings.
There in the bleak black,
I cling to you
And find your strong hand
Strengthening me.
(Everyday Psalms, Psalm 63, page 144).
The goal of this life is to give myself away. I hope to be completely spent when I’m done. And I practice that by offering myself to God in my praying.
The most basic of all prayers in the Scriptures is the simple phrase “Here I am.” Over and over again, we see people stand forward and say to God, “Here I am.”
The first of these episodes is in response to God’s question, “Where are you?”
The first woman and man hadn’t just plucked a piece of forbidden fruit from a tree, they had made a play for godhood. And yet, when their eyes were opened up in more ways than one, the first thing they did was hide.
It’s as part of the world’s first game of Hide and Seek that God asks the “Where are you?” question. Did God know where they were? Of course. He asked the question to give the man and woman the opportunity to answer it, to come out of hiding, to present themselves to him. It was a kindness. And they responded to it as such.
Our prayers are our chance to come out of hiding, our chance to step forward and present ourselves to God.
It’s odd that we do the hiding thing. It doesn’t work, does it? I mean, God always knows where we are. So, why do we do it?
Not only is there a sense of shame we have when we do what’s wrong, there’s a a touch of rebellion. We want to do what we want to do. So we’ll hide away and do it on our own.
I do that sometimes when I buy another record, something my wife doesn’t understand since music is pretty much free online. I sneak it home and into my record collection, ashamed of my hiding and yet willfully doing what I want to do anyway.
When we pray, we not only step out of hiding, we offer ourselves to God. We give up our resistance to him.
Hiding is withholding. When I hide a record, I hold it back from my wife. When I hide myself, I hold myself back from God.
Too often, when we get mad at God, we stop praying. We hold out on him. We give him the silent treatment. It’s silly and childish. But we get that way though, don’t we?
Prayer reengages. Prayer holds out a hand, taking hold of the hand God’s been holding out the whole time. Prayer says, “Here I am. I’m back. I’m not withholding myself any more.”
Prayer: I’m done hiding, God. I’m done with my rebel thoughts, with my juvenile attempts to be aloof. I offer myself to you again. I need you. I want you. I love you. Thank you for waiting for me to come back around. Again.
For further reading: Matt Canlis, Backyard Pilgrim: Forty Days at Godspeed