Tag Archives: Prayer

Praying Through Problems

Posted on by under Emotions, God, Prayer

Journal 2020

This week in the news:

  • COVID-19 pandemic
  • Tornadoes in Nashville and Chattanooga (too close to home)
  • Tribal killings near Jos, Nigeria (where I was born)
  • Locust swarms in East Africa that may affect my Compassion kids
  • A friend in the hospital

I don’t know how to pray for these overwhelming needs. I serve a big God, and I’m in His hands, and I cannot take on His job.

VISUAL: I see a large metal bowl with all the world’s problems swirling together in a vast, soupy mess. God’s enormous hands hold the bowl steady while the contents are shaken.

And where am I? I’m not inside the glop … yet. I’m a little ant clinging to the rim of the bowl trying to be faithful to the few tasks God entrusts to me. Things could get jostled enough that I fall in, but until then, I’m safe. If I do fall, I’ll have to deal with that. Meanwhile, “He’s got the whole world in His hands.”

The picture is clearer now—it’s like when I make kosai, and all the hulls of the black-eyed peas rise to the top when I swirl the bowl. (I guess you have to have lived in northern Nigeria to understand this one.)

Instead of praying for the swirling to stop, how about I pray that I cooperate with God’s plan for the world. I see things rising to the top of the bowl—the scum that needs to be scooped and poured off, while the good stuff settles to the bottom. God is purifying His church. It’s all good.

For Counselors and Therapists

Posted on by under Emotions, God, Inner Healing, Peace

Journal 2018

When strangers ask me what I do, I often say, “I’m a counselor,” because it’s hard to explain, “I’m an inner healing prayer minister.” Though I have the degree, I’m not a counselor. I’m not a therapist. I’m simply a facilitator who helps people connect to THE Counselor—the only One who can heal their pain.

My training provided me with some tools for the trade, but John Wembe said, “You come to each session with an empty toolbox! It doesn’t matter if you’ve used it 400 times in the past. Don’t assume that what worked yesterday will work today.” Over the past 25 years, I’ve been astonished at how God gives us the exact tools we need for each client.

One day we discovered the teachings of a fellow MK (Missionary’s Kid), Arthur Burke, who founded the Sapphire Leadership Group. Reading through his prolific material is like drinking from a firehose. And though no one person has perfect knowledge or truth, we can learn much from one person’s journey of discovery. Here are some quotes and information I gleaned from his writings that have helped me in my ministry.

Being a Healer Is Contrary to Our Nature—it’s not natural.

  1. We have a deep preference for power and control (we don’t like powerlessness). Inner healing costs us something.
  2. Safety: we’re always at risk (those who are traps and deceivers—witchcraft, lawsuits, blamers). The demonic knows your schedule and uses manipulation.
  3. Craving for closure (You can’t get closure if someone is suicidal.) Boundaries don’t cut it. It’s hard to switch off when you leave the office. There’s no finish line—an open-ended journey—especially if clients leave before you think they should.
  4. We are made for community. Pain and pleasure are done best in community (e.g. birth, death, weddings). Because of confidentiality, the therapist must process his pain and pleasure in private. We experience landmines and tripwires. We can’t avoid them. We don’t like doing this to a client. It’s unintentional, emotionally devastating, and you can’t discuss it with anyone. You also can’t share victories.
  5. Validation: We are designed by God to receive it, and we delight in giving it. But very few clients give you validation (e.g. “You’re doing a good job.”)
  6. Therapists are driven over the years to a personality change: we become more sour or less sparkly. “It’s a toxic trade.” There is a cost to us and our personalities to be a healer, and we risk addiction to medicate pain in the body or in the soul.

The brain’s hardware, explains Burke, is the physical, the gray matter. The brain’s software is the mind/soul. All of the above is about the software. But we need to find the energy in our spirits. We need to welcome God’s initiative, like a new mom initiating connection with her newborn.

Toxic Beliefs

  1. That my job is to bring pleasure to God by my obedience. (Psalm 33:5) We try to train God to love us, but it doesn’t work! God will reveal Himself to me in ways that are uniquely for me. God trains my spirit to build my joy. In a therapy session, my soul moves forward, but my spirit can anticipate how God is going to work, not just problem-solve. The bigger the problem, the more the opportunity to watch God work.
  2. We’ve been fed a lie. We have a guilt trip if we don’t “hear” from God. But by design, we might “see” (e.g. visuals, visions) rather than “hear” from God. God asked the prophet Jeremiah, “What do you see?” God engages with us in a myriad of ways. Ask, “What do I see?” and then ask for dialogue from God.

On Being Stuck

Authenticity comes when we face our powerlessness and admit it but are willing to sit with an individual no matter what. When you can bring others to healing but not experience it for yourself (e.g. Paul’s thorn in the flesh), you are not alone! Don’t go to the place of guilt. Trust God. He chose to leave you in that place till His purposes are fulfilled. How long can you stand in your powerlessness without allowing it to define your God? How long can you wrestle with God selectively answering prayers without it becoming about you?

When to Call It Quits

You may need to disengage from these four types of clients if they are not willing to move forward, if they make no progress at all, or if they make some progress but regress.

  1. A person who doesn’t want help but wants legitimacy—they will tell their friends they’re working on their stuff, but they aren’t. Phase them out!
  2. Denial. You can’t help them till they crash and burn.
  3. Beware of someone who comes to you self-diagnosed. They want you to work on their choice. “I can’t get other therapists to listen to me,” they might say. They’re allergic to responsibility. Ask: Are you open to another possibility?
  4. They have a religious spirit that reduces God to a formula (like Job’s friends). “I’ve done what I’m supposed to,” they might say. Beware this person. He believes he can control God. Can you walk with God with no guarantee that He’ll change your circumstances? (e.g. Shadrach)

A 2025 Update. I have been asked multiple times how I can listen for hours to horrific stories of pain and abuse without being weighed down myself. The answer is always to process what feelings get stirred up inside my own heart. When I am at peace, I can relax and watch God work. It’s His job, not mine, to fix broken hearts.

Prayer Burdens

Posted on by under Choices, Emotions, God, Inner Healing, Peace, Prayer

Journal 2018

My heart is heavy this morning with the news that a friend is nearing the end of her life, and another is struggling to function with a disease. Perhaps God put the heaviness there so that I will pray for my friends. Perhaps I’m believing a lie. Or maybe it’s tapping into something unresolved in my own heart. I see worry lines across my forehead.

In my mind, I lift my dying friend’s wasted skeleton and lay her gently in the lap of Jesus. He smiles. She is in good hands.

I see my other friend limping and leaning heavily on my left shoulder as I try to keep her upright. I’m sad and I don’t know why. My knees buckle under her weight, while Jesus waits for us to reach Him. Why isn’t He stepping forward to help? We sit for a while and rest, and still He tarries. I believe I have the responsibility to get her there, but I can’t. All I can do is sit with her till help comes. And as I relax and encourage her, Jesus sends angels to minister to her. They gently soothe her, but her earthly pain remains. Then I see the angels lift her, chair and all, to His feet. I follow and I watch.

“Are you ready, my child?” He whispers in her ear.

“Not yet,” she replies. And so he instructs the angels to carry her to Sick Bay.

It seems I’m next. “Come here, my child,” He says. “What’s troubling you?”

“It’s that word responsibility again,” I say. I know that whatever “it” is doesn’t belong to me.

“No, But love does. Staying with her and not walking away is what I ask of you.”

“That’s the easy part; I can do that.”

“Then visit her in Sick Bay and let her know she’s not alone in her pain.”

It’s often easier to try to fix another’s pain in order to relieve my own, but prayer is not about telling God what to do. It’s about letting go of my expectations and listening to His instructions.

Confession Time and God’s Time

Posted on by under Choices, Emotions, Inner Healing, Prayer

Journal 2018

Many years ago, a missionary couple put me on their mailing list without my consent, and for some reason I resented it. I don’t even recollect why, but for years, every time their prayer letter arrived in the mailbox, I tossed it in the trash; and later by e-mail, I’d hit the delete button without reading it. Petty, I know. Every other missionary letter I received I’d read and pray through it. This morning, however, I felt the small prick of conscience when the Holy Spirit said I needed to change my attitude toward this couple.

Once a day, beginning in the New Year, I open one Christmas card, reread the sentiment and personal notes, and pray for the person who sent it. I had just confessed my sin when I picked up the next card in the stack. I laughed out loud when it turned out to be from this missionary couple. God has such a sense of humor. And later that day, for the first time, I read their e-mail newsletter and felt engaged with their ministry.

Why does it take me so long to recognize my blind spots or to acknowledge my triggers? So much wasted time, bad brain space, and lost opportunity for prayer. I’m grateful for God’s patience, love, and forgiveness.

Pain and Prayer

Posted on by under Emotions, God, Peace, Prayer

Journal 2006

I think I absorb more of the pain from the world than I realize. So, just for today I want to lay each request, each burden, at God’s feet rather than carry them myself.

I visualize each person or organization I pray for as a domino on God’s tray. Some stand straight, some lie on their sides, and others lean over the edge. But all are in God’s hands. And like a butler balancing an assortment of goodies on a tray, so God carries the world—His world—in His capable hand. And I, the child heir, can skip along beside Him, knowing that He has all things under His care and control. I’m free to watch Him or join Him in His work, or I’m free to run off and play. And sometimes I do one and sometimes I do the other. But it’s no longer my responsibility. It seems silly for the child to point out mishaps and misdemeanors to the butler. He’s well aware of them, and it’s His job to wipe up the spills.

So, what is prayer? Prayer is tugging on the butler’s hand. When He leans down, I whisper in his ear: “I’m scared. Did you see that? Can You help me with my homework? Can You help my friend Susie who fell and scraped her knee?” And He smiles and nods and comes to the rescue. I’m too little to do a grown-up’s job.

Image AI generated

The Sacrifice of Intercession

Posted on by under Choices, Emotions, God, Prayer

Journal 2017

In the book Rees Howells-Intercessor, the author Norman P. Grubb says, “This is the law of intercession: that only so far as we have been tested and proved willing to do a thing ourselves can we intercede for others. Christ is our Intercessor because He took the place of each one prayed for” (p. 93).

The thought here is that we cannot intercede for someone unless we are willing to answer the prayer ourselves. Rees prayed that God would spare the life a woman who was dying; but if she died, he would have to be willing to care for her children since the father was out of the picture. When she died, he was prepared to take up the slack, but her sisters stepped in at the last minute. His intercession included being willing to lay down his life for another.

Regarding medicine vs. faith for healing, he was not opposed to medicine and would recommend it. His prayer for healing was usually applied to those for whom medicine had failed—and only after he was SURE that God had told him that the person would be healed. He didn’t pray for it or believe it unless the Lord told him what to pray for.

Always, always do what God says, even when it feels bizarre. He seldom works the same way twice. Only once did the children of Israel march seven times around a city. And when they tried to conquer Ai, they failed because God didn’t tell them to do so.

Rees Howells had a policy of “First need, first claim.” Whenever he had money, he’d give it away to whatever need presented itself to him, believing God would supply his own need when the time came.

The ultimate test came when God asked Rees and his wife to leave their son behind so they could go to Africa to become missionaries. We read this today and shake our heads. Some of the Gowans Home* kids might disagree that the sacrifice was worth it. Some would protest that God wouldn’t ask a person to do that (though He did it Himself when He left His only Son to die on a cross).

I think God calls certain people to an exceptional life of faith. When He has an extraordinary job for them to do, their testing is also extraordinary. God had a special hand on Rees and on George Mueller and today on Angus Buchan (Read the book or see the movie Faith Like Potatoes).

Are we all expected to make sacrifices in our intercessions?

*GH was a home in Canada for missionaries’ children in the 40s and 50s. It was not safe in those days to take children overseas to disease-ridden countries or during wartime, so missionaries left their children behind for four to five years at a time.

Prayer Shame

Posted on by under Emotions, God, Inner Healing, Peace, Prayer

Journal 2017

I’ve been on a journey all my life to discover the secret of prayer. When I read others’ stories, they don’t match mine. I shift between guilt (not enough) to apathy and forgetfulness, from rote to relationship, from works to worry, from self-condemnation to self-awareness.

I’m reading the biography of Rees Howells who discovered that prayers were best made when they were God-directed. For example: don’t pray for healing unless God directs me to. Yet I do pray for healing of my every ache and pain as well as for everyone in my life who is suffering. But I don’t really expect Him to heal, or I’m so surprised when He does.

Today, Lord, I want to listen, wait, and ask for what is on Your heart. I want to be a prayer warrior.

“Hmmm,” says Jesus. “What does a warrior do?”

Well, he fights—fights for truth, fights against an enemy, defends himself, defends the weak. The weapons of warfare are spiritual, not physical. I know I’m supposed to just stand once I’m fully armed. So I guess the first step is to make sure I’m fully armed. You’re faithful to point out the chinks in my armor. And I know how to stand . . .

“But . . . ?”

But I don’t know how to use words. I don’t know what to say or what to pray for.

“Then why don’t you repeat after me?”

Huh?

“Like when you learned your ABCs or the prayer I gave the disciples or The Lord Rebuke You prayer or . . .”

So it’s that simple? Repeat after You? I can do that. Okay, I’m listening.

“Dear Lord,” He begins.

Wait a minute! You’re sitting right here with me. Why do I need to address You? When I’m talking to my husband, and he’s the only one in the room, I don’t have to say his name to get his attention—unless he’s not listening of course. Do I need to start “Dear Lord” every time?

He laughs. “No, of course not,” He teases. “I was just seeing if you were paying attention.”

Very funny. Ok, try again. I’m listening.

“Hi, Karen.”

Hi, Lord.

I wait. He seems to be thinking. (God has to think? Doesn’t He always know exactly what to say?)

“Okay, repeat after Me:

            I, Karen, do solemnly swear to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me, God.”

This is not funny! What kind of prayer is that!?

“I like honesty. I want you to tell yourself the truth as well as to Me.”

Okay, I’m all in.

“Good. Now tell Me the truth. What’s in your heart?”

Well . . . I’m worried that . . .

“Choose your words. Take your time—and be honest.”

Okay . . . I’m worried that I’ll be judged for how little I pray.

“You mean little in chronos time?”

I suppose.

“Who’s keeping track?”

I suppose I am, for one.

“And?”

And . . . I feel guilty if I neglect to pray, to ask for favors, to cover people with the prayer of protection, to intercede for their needs.

“Intercede . . . ooooh that’s a big word.”

You’re teasing me. (I’m feeling petulant.)

“What do you want, Karen?”

What do I want? What do I really want? I want a heart that is so connected and in tune with You that conversation (prayer) flows as naturally and comfortably as breathing. I want every thought I think and every breath I take to be in sync with Yours. I want our conversation to feel natural, not formal; intimate, not forced or stilted. When I pray for people, I feel like I’m straining to think up stuff to say, but I’m not always sure what to say or if that’s what their true need is. I also want to know how often I should pray for someone. Expectations are daily, and somehow if I miss a day, I believe it’s my fault if they fail or are vulnerable to Satan’s attacks. How’s that for being honest?

“That’s better. What else?”

There’s more?

“Oh, yes. Dig a little deeper.”

It’s about me, isn’t it? It’s about pride. What if someone should discover what a fraud I am? That I don’t spend x number of hours a day on my knees. Or I can’t say with sincerity, “I prayed for you today.” How would that feel? Shameful? Embarrassing? Guilty? Or, since we’re being honest here, how I look compared to so-and-so. How sick is that?

“Anything else?”

Oh, I think that’s enough shame for the moment.

“Okay, what do you want to do about it?”

Me? I thought it was Your job to lift shame and give me truth and offer something in its place.

“Why should I? I didn’t put it there!”

Then who did? Oops . . . I guess I did. Help me, Lord, please. I want to give it up. I really do. But self-shame and blame is too heavy a brick to lift by myself.

(He hands me a sledgehammer.)

I smash the brick into smaller pieces, small enough for me to carry. What to do with them, though? It seems we’re building a brick wall for some sort of dwelling. I’m not sure I understand the significance yet, but brick now feels useful—like it’s serving a purpose.

Oh! I see it now . . . I think we’re building a house of prayer. Okay . . . but still not sure about this.

“There’s more to come,” He says. “For now, let’s stop and get a bite of lunch.”

Sounds good to me!

Fervent Prayer

Posted on by under Emotions, God, Prayer

Journal 2009.

I can name five people right now who are in crisis emotionally. I am not indifferent to their pain; I am concerned and praying for them. But I wonder at my emotional detachment from these good friends. I realize that with the healing in my own heart, I’m not jerked around so much by other people’s issues. I’m sure a doctor goes through this process having to take care of sick bodies without getting too emotionally distracted.

The prophet Jeremiah said God’s burden on his heart to prophecy was like a fire in his soul if he didn’t speak. David also had a fire in his soul—but it was driven by guilt. The key, I think, is recognizing the difference between the Holy Spirit’s burden on my soul to pray for someone and my own triggers that reveal insecurities and fears.

James said, “The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much” (5:16 KJV). Can prayer be effective if emotions aren’t involved? “Fervent prayer” implies strong emotion. When I’m in crisis, I have strong emotions, and my prayers are deep. But what if I’m not feeling anything? Are my prayers just as effective? I say yes—if my motives are pure and my heart is right before God.

When I pray with someone who is demonized, I don’t have to raise my voice, wrestle, be stern, or give in to fear. The power is not in my desire to see someone delivered and getting all excited emotionally. The power is in Jesus’ Name.

So if I’m praying for someone, interceding on their behalf, I don’t have to drum up some emotion to get God’s attention. Remember the prophets of Baal who had strong emotion, pleading, crying out, jumping around, and cutting themselves? But Elijah? He just appealed to the God who made the fire and the rocks and rain. The power is in the Person. Using God’s Name means I’m accessing the power of the universe. Therefore, be careful what I ask for!

The Enough of Prayer

Posted on by under God, Prayer

From my 2009 Journal

I want to learn to pray. I really do. It’s been a drive, a pursuit of mine since junior high. It’s one of those spiritual disciplines that one never seems to master. I keep learning, trying, applying, but it never seems “enough.” I recognize that some people are more naturally gifted in the art of communication. And I also know that it’s not just the words themselves that communicate.

When I smile at someone, or when I frown, I’m communicating. Cannot God, who made me, interpret every nuance, know every secret longing, read between the lines, or does He expect words every time? Those who have been given a prayer language would say words aren’t necessary. But that’s not been my experience.

So how do I go deeper? How do I find that place inside that is deeper than words? Are visuals the key for me? Or am I missing something?

I think I am motivated by what others do, say, preach, and model. Yes, I listen, attempt to initiate or explore, try to learn from . . . but ultimately, this conversation is between me and my Creator. No one else. Is He satisfied with my performance (or non-performance)? Is my heart right? At peace? Are my motives pure? If they’re not, can I trust God to reveal them to me? To expose me?

Why do I want to learn to pray? Help me, Lord, to be honest with myself here. I think it’s the word more that trips me up. More implies time. Is one minute a day enough? Is one hour? What about 20 hours? If I talked to my husband nonstop for two hours, I’d be tired! I prefer to listen. So . . . if prayer is also listening, I can increase my “time” easily. Does a certain amount of time spent with someone indicate how much you care for them? No. but choosing to do so out of delight in being together does. “Having to” is totally different from “longing to.”

Bottom line: I delight in spending time talking to and listening to God. It’s not a chore. I have chosen to make an appointment with Him every morning, and I like to keep those appointments. And if God wants an appointment with me, I won’t miss it. He’ll make sure I’m there. He knows how to get my attention.

A 2023 Update. I have since learned that the words more and not enough often have their source in the evil one. They are shamed-based words that keep me bound: You aren’t doing enough; you should do more. But there is no shame in wanting more of God.

More on Prayer

Posted on by under God, Prayer

From my 2009 Journal

The word pray sounds so formal: knees bent, head down, petitioning the King for a boon or a favor. Sometimes prayer is like that. But pray simply means to talk to God.

Sometimes it’s chatting with your best Friend around the dinner table. Or snuggling up in your Papa’s lap and telling Him how much you love Him and appreciate Him. And sometimes prayer is begging for mercy for having disobeyed Him and He’s holding the chastening rod.

Sometimes my prayers are shallow, without thought, childish, and me-centered. But the Father knows, and Jesus understands that we’re frail and immature and ignorant. He doesn’t mind our childish babble—when we’re children.

When my kids asked for candy, I knew it wasn’t always best for them and often said no—because of my love for them. But sometimes I said yes because it was fun to give them a treat.  Candy before dinner on an empty stomach? Not a good choice. But if they insisted and persisted and perhaps secretly ate some anyway, hopefully they soon learned from experience that a headache from crashing from a sugar high didn’t feel so good.

And so I can relax with my prayers. I can ask whatever I want, but trust God to run interference for me if I run my mouth off the wrong way.