Praying With Humility

Earlier this week, my bible study found me in 1 Kings 3, the story in which King Solomon asks for wisdom. Many know this story in only that brief description, but reading it this time around, something stuck out to me that I hadn't noticed before. Verses 1-15 tell of how God came to Solomon in a dream, offering him to have anything he desires. Solomon, however, did not answer the way one might expect the twenty-year-old king to respond. He didn't ask for wealth or power or the most beautiful woman in the country. No, Solomon didn't ask for any of these things; instead he asked for discernment so that he might rule well. In return, God granted him not only the discernment he asked for, but also so much wisdom, that he will forever be known as the wisest man who ever lived.

This is the story that most of us know, but what stuck out to me was not what he asked, but how he asked it. Take a look with me at verses 7-9:

“Now, O Lord my God, You have made Your servant king in place of my father David. But I am only a little child and do not know how to carry out my duties. Your servant is here among the people You have chosen, a great people, too numerous to count or number. So give Your servant a discerning heart to govern Your people and to distinguish between right and wrong. For who is able to govern this great people of Yours?”

It was common during biblical times in the Middle East to refer to yourself as “your servant” when addressing someone of higher political/social standing or someone who, at least in this moment, has the authority to accomplish something with which you are incapable of. So this sign of reverence and respect was not unique.

What is unique about Solomon's request was how he humbled himself further by calling himself a “little child” and recognizing that he is nothing more than a steward of what God has given him by referring to Israel as not his people, but the Lord's. In this way he removed himself from the place of control and put God in control of the situation instead. He basically said, “Look, You put me over these people, but they are not mine; they are Yours. Now guide me in what I must do so that I might lead these people in a way that is pleasing to You.”

Between moving to a new apartment, starting a new job, getting engaged, and adopting a puppy, I have spent a lot of time recently not only thanking God for what he has given me but also turning over my life circumstances into His hands. This is big part of the reason I noticed this frequently overlooked aspect of Solomon's request.

But just as with anything in the scriptures, noticing something like this isn't what is important; applying what you've learned to your life is what is important. Here, we should follow Solomon's lead and not only recognize ways God has acted in our lives in the past (having the opportunity to become king, in Solomon's case), but also putting our current circumstances in His hands with humility and reverence. Maybe that will be with your job, as it was for Solomon, or some other big responsibility or blessing such as school, or family, or an important relationship. Whatever it is, we must do as Solomon did and say, “Lord, I did not get here on my own, You had Your hand in it the whole time. I only have what I have because You allow me to be a steward of it for this time—it is not mine, only borrowed. Not my job, my home, my kids, my significant other, or even my life. All of it has been given to me. You are allowing me the opportunity to have influence with these people and in these areas, so please grant me the wisdom to act in each of them with grace so that I may bring glory to Your Name and bring others closer to You.”

(For more of a look into times I have turned over circumstances to God even though it was difficult, read Losing Control.)

Blessings, Faith, and Childlike Wonder

Recently, I've been noticing a lot of the little blessings God has been putting in my life. When I say recently, I don't mean that they've only been recently, rather He's been giving me them forever, and I just failed to notice until recently.
Jesus once said that we must become like little children to see the kingdom of God. But what does that mean?
To be a like a child is to embrace the wonder of the world around you, seeing more with your heart than with your intellect. For isn't it true that Jesus' words speak to our hearts while our minds are still mulling over the confusing logic?

More often than not, our minds tell us that something can't work before we ever try it out ourselves. It renounces the dreams and longings of our hearts and tell us to "be realistic" and "think like an adult."
But what if I don't want to be realistic? What if being realistic and ignoring my heart's calling leaves me feeling empty? What if thinking like an adult is holding me back?
Just like our minds, more often than not, tell us to ignore our hearts and be realistic, more often than not, following your heart can lead you to see all the little blessings all around you.

I call them "little blessings," but in reality, they're not so little after all. They come from small things, but they blessings brought can be enormous!

As you probably know, my dream is to be an author. But this longing of my heart is so much deeper than that. I, like most readers, have experienced the profound connection between reader and writer, storyteller and listener. You have moments where you feel like they know you, like they're speaking right to you, or where you feel like you know them. It's amazing how you can have such a connection with someone you've never met through the gift of words.
All of these things are "small things." Words are a small thing. Books are a small thing. Even connection is a small thing. All of it adding to the small act of reading. It's small because it's singular. It's not something you do as a group, but by yourself in quiet solitude, yet the impact can be immense.
So, what is my dream? The longing of my heart?
My dream is to create something that makes those little connections with others.
Will I ever know if I have reached this? Probably not. But what I do know is the stories that impacted me the most were God inspired. God spoke to a simple man's creative heart and told him to write, and he wrote. (For more about how such simple obedience has effected me, go here).

Recently I have been to the Re:Write conference (another little blessing with a glorious outcome), where we were encouraged to see through the eyes of our heart. The eyes of wonder. The eyes of a child. We were told that writer's block is a lie. That's all it is. Simply a fear based lie that we aren't good enough, that we'll never be writers, and that no one will ever want to hear what we have to say.
We were told the best way to overcome the lie of writer's block is to turn away from what we think we know to embrace what really is. We had to shut down our intellect and connect to God, heart to hear, soul to soul, realizing that our fear and other's opinions do not define us, but He.
And He thinks our art is beautiful.
Why? Because it came from our hearts, which he created.

This understanding, a small thing, though missed by many, has been another amazing blessing. It, however, is not something I understand with my mind, for it goes against the logic this world has instilled there. This understand is one deep within my being.
Along with this understanding of who I am and who God is, came the acceptance of a simple fact: I might not get published.
Tell me that a month ago, and I'd have fought you. I'd have told you that I will, I have to. I need to reach people. I need to reach my dream, or my dream is worthless!
Today I will agree with you. I might not get published. I might not have my books on shelves where countless people can read and have a connection that only happens between storyteller and listener. But that's okay. Because I know it's not my job to get this out there. I know it's not my job to make connections, or even write beautifully. My job is simply to write. Why else would God have planted this longing within my heart?

Over the past week I have been reading a book called A.D. 30, about a woman from Arabia who has a life changing encounter with Jesus. I read a conversation last night that helped pull the swirling thoughts that became this post together. I felt like I should share it.
The conversation takes place between a man named Judah, a Jew from a nomadic tribe in the desert who comes to Israel to find the king his elders told him about, and a Pharisee, who is later revealed to be Nicodemus (the man Jesus taught about being born again in John 3). Here is a snippet of their interaction:

   The Pharisee spoke barely above a whisper now, as though afraid his words might carry beyond the walls. "With Yeshua, God seems so be intimate, as though breath itself. The rabbi calls him even Abba. And we his children, to be born not of Abraham but of Spirit. Such things are not spoken elsewhere. And yet he asks us to follow."
   "But to follow where?" Judah demanded.
   "This too is a mystery." The Pharisee sighed. "You must understand...to have faith is to let go of knowledge as the means to salvation. To do so, one must embrace trust and mystery rather than man knowledge one's god... It is not where that matters so much as simply following. Faith, you see? Trust, like a child. It confounds the mind."

So I, like a child, follow Him down a path that's destination is unknown to me. But He tells me it will be beautiful, and I believe Him.
For isn't that what faith is? To follow with simple trust like a child?
I have chosen not only to follow like a child, but to view God's creation (and my creation) with childlike wonder!