Journal 2018

I have an overwhelming list of people I want to pray for, and I can’t keep up with them all.

Visual: I am in a square room with many doors, and each open door has monsters (demons) guarding them, preventing me from exiting. I know I cannot fight them all at once, but I still grab my Sword of the Spirit and flail it around. Suddenly, I lose my grip, the sword flies through the air, and it lodges in the wall above one of the doors. I laugh out loud. Well, that was a most ineffective use of my weapon!

So Jesus teaches me like a Jedi warrior how to use my sword: Keep calm, maintain control, and you only have to fight one ogre at a time.

And which one is that? I wonder. Instantly, I know its name: Doubt.

Doubt in my prayer life. Doubt that I’m doing it right or not doing enough or… And so, I invite Doubt into the prayer room. Jesus stands outside the arena, watching me. “Parry here, thrust there. Watch your vulnerable side. Good job. Stay alert,” He calls.

Once I’ve practiced, I invite Doubt into the ring, thrust forward with my sword, and the ogre vanishes like smoke. The doorway is now clear, and I can exit into a lush green garden.

“May I spend some time here with you?” Jesus and I ask at the same time, and we both laugh.

“See this rose?” “Note this bush.” “Do you like this tree?”

Yes, yes and yes!

“I made them all for you to enjoy,” He says. I can see the delight on His face.

“But what about that prayer room?” I ask. “Aren’t I supposed to be in there fighting ogres?”

“At some point,” He replies. “But for now, I want you to relax and rest here with Me and learn to delight in Me. Then when you do fight, you carry My heart and My strength with you, and you’re not fighting on your own. Rest here with Me and enjoy My presence, and I will teach you. I will let you know when it’s time to return to the room. Just stay close to Me for now. In this garden, pay attention, look and listen. There are things to learn in the quietness and stillness that you cannot learn in the midst of a battle.”

I’m okay with that, I think, but I don’t know what to do with the multi-page list I’ve been carrying around.

“We’ll use that for weed control,” He replies. And He carefully lays the papers in a special place in the garden, covers them with dirt, and walks away. “They are important to this garden,” He says. “They aren’t going anywhere.”

“Oh!” I exclaim. “There are little seeds embedded in the pages! When the rain comes, they’ll begin to sprout and grow. I don’t have to keep planting them.”

“I’ll keep watch over them with you, and My gardener helpers will make sure they get the proper nutrients,” He says.

And now I see it. The prayers I pray on behalf of other people are like seeds. The more I plant, the bigger the crop, but I’m not capable of or responsible for making them sprout or blossom. Now I’m eager to find even more seeds to plant.

“Look no further,” Jesus says, smiling, as He pulls out a packet from His pocket.

“Show me where to plant them,” I say.

“Some will be planted in your heart and some in others’ hearts. Some will fall on rocky paths, some will get choked by thorns, some will fall on good soil. (Sound familiar?) Just keep planting and sowing, and I’ll take care of the rest.”