Prayer, Plain and Simple

 Murder is in the news cycle. Casey Anthony was acquitted this week on charges of first degree murder, aggravated child abuse and aggravated manslaughter. Who hasn’t heard about that, and who doesn’t have an opinion? Now Humberto Leal, 38, who was convicted in 1995 in the brutal raping and murder of a teenage girl and is scheduled for execution today in Texas is receiving some last minute help from President Obama, the US State Department, and the nation of Mexico, all seeking to halt the execution on grounds that Leal should have been given a chance to offer an explanation that might have altered the sentencing portion of his trial.

Not lost in all the courtroom drama is the pain of those who suffered in these crimes, and the families and loved ones so horribly impacted. Convictions in court and executions do not bring murdered children back. They do not console those who have lost loved ones. But justice denied or justice delayed can add to grief and bitterness. Today, we pray for the victims of crime, for their peace and for grace from God to provide what human judicial systems cannot.

“God, you are just. You are perfect in all your judgments. You balance every scale. In time, all the accounts will be settled. All truth will be told. All debts will be evenly scored. For now, in this world, we can push for justice and labor for truth and fair payment, but we must often settle for less. We pray for those who have suffered a grave injustice, for those who have had something precious taken, broken, destroyed. We pray for their souls, that the loss, which cannot be replaced, will be filled with a miracle of comfort. Give the victims of crime the assurance that you stand with them, that you hate injustice even more than they hate it. Come close to the broken hearted. Console and join them in their anger. Teach them how to be angry without turning bitter. Show them how to transfer their demand for justice into your hands, in an act of forgiveness, which is not dropping the charges, but trading the responsibility for pressing the charges to your eternal court of heaven. God, be with those who have stood by as the wicked seem to survive their wickedness. Give them patient hope that in the span of eternity all truth will be told and all scales will be balanced. And as they collapse into your perfect love and wisdom, teach them that sorrow alone is the way into your deepest heart. And may they find you in their sorrow, and find from you what only you can provide… A hope that does not disappoint. In Jesus…”

“God, my back hurts. Never mind the cause. Never mind the lesson I should learn, something about lifting with my legs perhaps. At the moment I don’t care about anything more than relief. God, lift my pain. I know that this is a small pain compared to anyone suffering bone cancer, or a first degree burn, or any of a thousand chronic afflictions, or the pain of those coming through an unbearable loss of someone they love. In the big picture, this is not severe. Yet still, I ask for your healing.

I know that I have much to celebrate. I have much to thank you for, including general good health. I thank you for provision and the roof over my head and food on my table and a house full of basically happy kids. I have a good life, and you are the source. I know all this and I thank you.

Still, I can ask. I want to ask. I apply my faith in your goodness, that you care about such things as injuries that are not life threatening. I can still ask for help. I can still believe that you hear and care and respond.  As a father, I understand that even small things matter to my children. And so they matter to me. If this is true with me and my children, how much more when I turn to you, the true Father of fathers.

God, my back hurts. I have iced it and I have taken aspirin. I have rested it and stretched it. I have stood. I have lain still. Yet, I have pain.

You have invited me to ask for anything, in your name. You have asked me to believe and to bother you with petty matters. So, in your name, Jesus, I ask for healing. I ask for relief. I speak your words in your stead and say, as you once said, “Be healed.” And I wait now for my body to catch up with me faith. Yes, it is a small matter, in the small of my back. But the pain is real and therefore, it concerns you even more than it bothers me. I give it to you. You did not make my back for pain, and you take it to yourself as you take all pain, great and small upon the cross. In Jesus.”

It rained on Saturday, the day my daughter, Ellie married Andy. It rained from the skies and it rained from heaven. In every way, the day was a slice out of heaven. I can’t imagine that more joy could be possible on this planet. As father of the bride, I offered a toast at the reception dinner. I offered my blessing. I offer it here below on behalf of all fathers of the bride who pray for the blessed best of their precious daughters.

What’s a father to do?

 The truth is, we Dads can feel like a third wheel. We won’t admit that, accept in times like this, when vulnerability is finally allowed, but with our daughters, we’re all thumbs. Sons, that’s another matter. I feel admiration, irritation, and pride with and in them. I can say, “Look me in the eye, son and don’t give me that line. I know what you’re thinking.” With my daughters I’ve never been able to catch up. it’s been all wonder, confusion and amazement.

From day one it’s been like this… Ellie, I did get to run red lights driving at break neck speed for 30 miles to race you to the hospital. A dad can do that… that was cool. But once the real action started, I wasn’t needed. I went to the Lamaze classes, read the stuff and practiced the coaching moves. That was a project  and I thought, “I can do this.” Then in transition labor, when I was down next to your mother’s face, encouraging her on… Let’s just keep this clean… She didn’t need me; she didn’t want me. And you were born…

And it’s been a bit like that since. You come to dear old Dad for advice, for an anchor point to your identity – you carried my name until 2 hours ago – and perhaps for a picture of your future. But your secrets, your fears, your dreams shared in long hours of mutual dialog, that is your mother’s privilege. The truth is, I didn’t and couldn’t really understand.

What’s a father to do?  Ellie, you are a well too deep for me. You bring a wonder that is over my head. When I saw first saw you this afternoon in this pure white gown, in things old, borrowed and new, I knew, “Yes, there is a God. A Hope this amazing, could never come from me…” So hre we are again, Belle, playing dress up, playacting and pretending the Big Story, the final wedding from the final page of history.

Here’s what a father can do… Ellie, walking with you down the aisle, saying the words, “Her Mother and I,” and then entrusting your hand with Andy, I have found my place. I haven’t really known my role, until now. The bitter sweet side is that at the moment I find my role and what this has all been about, at that moment I let you go and you’re gone.

So what’s a father of a daughter to do, now?

Jesus has words for everything that matters. When in doubt, I turn to him. Jesus says, “If someone asks for your shirt, give your coat as well.”

Someone has asked for my daughter. What do I say? I always wondered, and now it has happened.

Andy, today you asked for my daughter’s hand in marriage. I said my own, “I dd.” I gave her away, willingly, joyfully, and hopefully to you. Her mother and I do this because we’ve grown to love and trust you.

To Dennis and Janice, your parents thank you for such a young man. You have raised him well, as a man of honor, a man of excellence, man of many passions and one love, and a man of God. We prayed for him through the years, not knowing his name. But you have done the hard work. And for this day we offer our gratitude to you both. And to all our guests… please don’t imagine that Jill and I could have offered such a splendid, inclusive celebration such as this on our own!

Andy, I’ve given Ellie because you have asked. But as Jesus commands, I give what’s asked AND something more: I give my blessing. Ellie and Andy, I bless you and your new life. This, finally is my Father’s right and gift. I bless you both.

Andy and Ellie, the two of you will bring joy into the world. May your new home know peace – SHALOM – where everything is as it should be, as God intends. May your marriage become a lighthouse of HOPE… This is my prophetic declaration: Your name, Elisabeth, is ELISABTH HOPE. You will fulfill your destiny together with Andy. Together you will be a sign in a world that does not believe, that HOPE is real! Let this be so!

Join me, all… I am father and THIS IS WHAT A FATHER CAN DO… Join me in blessing my Daughter and my new Son, Elisabeth and Andrew!

Who can explain a child’s suffering?

This week an 18-month old child died in St. Paul, Minnesota when equipment malfunctioned at a chiropractor’s office. The small boy crawled under the spine therapy table to which his mother was strapped and pushed an electronic button that brought the table down on him.

Tragic. Senseless. Heart breaking. “Why?” No one can answer…

 In times like this we must choose – move away from God, or move toward God.

Today, we pray for families grieving the loss of a child.

“God, bring comfort and peace. Peace is your essence. Peace is your name. Bring peace to this family who has lost their precious child in death.

We come to you, God because we know that you sorrow, and are acquainted with grief. You too have endured the loss of a child. You empathize.

We can’t help but ask, “Why?” Forgive our insistence, our confusion, even our anger. We believe that you are just, and we ache to understand how this tragic death is an expression of that justice, how it expresses your love. We also know – in our minds at least – that you seldom answer the “why?” question. We press you, but on these matters you are mostly silent.

What we ask instead is “how?” How can we move forward? How can this bring us together and not tear us apart? How can we now live under the shadow of this untimely death? Answer this prayer with your comfort and guidance.

There is no way to remove the pain. The grief is real. The only sanity is to know, to believe, in a life beyond with you, when all the scales are righted and the sufferings are made good. We trust you and your promise that while this child’s life on earth is done, his life beyond has just begun. With that release we lose him and let him go into your arms, then by faith receive in return the boundless comfort of your presence. That is all, that is enough. In Jesus.”