Monday Prayer: Thank God for You, Jesus

Image source. 

Lord Almighty,
thank You for being bigger than bad prayers,
bad ideas,
bad books,
bad days.

Thank You for being better than my worst expectations,
my lachrymose religion,
my lacking compassion, kindness, gentleness, faithfulness…

Thank You for being brighter than dark nights of the soul,
the darkness behind my eyes,
the darkness so often lurking in my heart.

Thank You for being who You are
when I’m the worst of who I am.

Thank God for You, Jesus.

Thank You.


#MondayPrayer: Speak true

Image source.

Dear Lord,
Sometimes it’s so hard to trust that You know best.
Hard to trust that You’re good and kind and faithful and just.
That You’re true. That You’re real.
The world is as convincing as a politician, and as full of promises. Promises that in times of hardship, difficulty, pain and uncertainty – oh, the uncertainty! – look if not better, then at least more likely.
And You never were a politician.
Never said what the “It” crowd wanted to hear.
Never stood with the powerful or the perverse.
Never wavered from the Kingdom way You proclaimed.
Father’s Son, You always spoke true
(and good and kind and merciful)
calling, inviting, encouraging.
Speak to me today. Speak to me of trust.
Speak to me of truth: Your truth.
Speak to me of mercy over judgment
and repentance over sin
and love over apathy, anger, and hatred,
of patience and gentleness and self-control.
Speak to me the good words of obedience
and faith, of resurrection life, of You, Your Spirit, and our Father.
Speak, Lord. It’s Monday, but Your servant is listening
(or trying to, anyways.)

Hope against all hope: a #MondayPrayer


Lord oh Lord oh Lord…

As You invented the seven-day week model, I hold You personally responsible for Mondays. A big part of me wants to hold you responsible for this Monday in particular; for everything from my bad night’s sleep to floods in India to the real possibility that I’ll check Twitter at some point today and see that North Korea and the US’s posturing men children leaders have started a nuclear war. I want to hold You responsible for the prayer request I received from a woman in a terrible situation. I want to hold You responsible for me.

This is very unfair of me I know, and hardly deserved. Still, sometimes the gulf between knowing something and feeling something is nigh insurmountable. I think You know about that gulf: after all, against all caution, You created us and hoped… Someone’s clearly an optimist.

I think it’s that hope I need most this week: hope against all hope. Hope against all hope that sleep will be caught up, that Tuesday won’t loom as large, that cooler heads will prevail, that the places that need sunshine more than rain will get it and that the places that need rain rather than sunshine will get it too. Hope that a married man will come to his senses or fall down a hole (either will do). Hope that I could be less of a Dumpster fire (I did say hope against all hope).

I need Your hope. The whole world needs Your hope.

Praying for it today, Lord, and for Trump’s Twitter app to crash.


A Monday prayer for stupid butts


Lord, as we wake up to a week fresh with disaster and rife with -isms of every kind, among so many people and it seems in all corners of the world, we take a moment, tune it out, have a sit down, take a deep breath and (hopefully) have a hot beverage. Lord knows we need this moment to remember that You indeed are in every moment to come this day, this week, this month, this year, and all others; that You’ve been with us thus far and that Your presence continues and persists, a light, a fountain of living water, a vine; that You have never abandoned us and never will.

We acknowledge that in this coming week there’ll be moments this moment of remembrance won’t feel enough. We’ll feel overwhelmed, frustrated, maybe even angry, probably even useless. We’ll forget what at the moment we’re thinking of it feels so unforgettable: You. Oh, Lord, have mercy! Have mercy on our stupid butts where they’re parked in our stupid chairs. Give us the mercy of remembering Your mercy, and grant us the ability to share this mercy with butts stupid like ourselves.

We thank You for another week in the history of our lives. By worldly standards this week may not amount to much, but we pray that every moment would be sufficient for Your work, Your will, and Your grace and that when all these moments have come and gone and we’re facing yet another week, we’ll have another moment like this one: a moment of remembering, and a memorial for the times we didn’t, and hope that we’ll do better this time round.

That you’d save our butts from the hot water of sin and temptation, self-interest and rage tweeting, from honking the horns of our motorcars abusively or saying bad things about our peers’ Facebook pages we pray, Lord, in Your holy name.


A prayer

A prayer for our times; for the people we don’t like or agree with; but most especially for ourselves:

“Arise, Lord, do not let mortals triumph…” (Psalm 9:19a NIV)