I’m about to go radio silent and full swing into motherhood times three. To be terribly honest, I’m excited, as well as incredibly anxious. I can hardly wait to see what Connolly will look like and hold her in my arms. I feel as if we know each other so well know and yet not at all.
I also am terribly afraid of the sleepless nights and the many tears. (My tears, not hers, just to clarify.) Because the fact of the matter is that I will certainly cry the most in this situation. Think I’m kidding? Ask my husband.
But I wanted to ask you one more thing before I tuck myself into a rocking chair and start pouring into Connolly’s life. So far we’ve explored clinging to truth and ridding ourselves of shame. Today, I’m standing on something I believe is absolutely revolutionizing.
Yeah, I actually mean that.
I believe it bears no explanation that God desires his people to represent him well. And this begins with exposing him as a living God – not a dying one. Because, simply stated, God isn’t dead, so we should probably stop acting like it.
You are probably wondering why I’m claiming that a bunch of us are acting like God is dead when a majority of us have Bible verses on our coffee mugs and our walls. But this goes beyond our pretty walls, but into our rhythms and our behaviors.
It is what we write on our Facebook walls and how we react to the next political move in our country. It’s how we treat our black sisters and brothers. And how we give away our dollars for those who need them more than us. It’s how we advocate for the unborn AND for the mom carrying that baby. It’s even how we educate ourselves with the foster world and rally for those children and families involved.
And we wonder how to do this all, be this all, when it seems like we are at the end of our very own rope. I know I get to the end of my own rope all too quickly. Anyone else relate?
But my encouragement is simple and yet, profound. We set a new rhythm. We begin a new pattern.
What is it? In the very compelling words of John Piper, we do this:
We pray ourselves hot.
We get down on our knees today, then tomorrow, and then the next day, and we beg God to remind us that he is alive and well. We ask him to give us fresh eyes for his movement. We pray for miracles and for strength in the suffering. We sit and meditate on the cross. On the blood. On the empty tomb.
We ask him for breakthrough – again. We beg for miracles – again. We petition for revival – again. We repent and we repent and we repent. We sing and listen and stay still. And we break our bodies in front of his living presence and believe in him all over again.
We pray ourselves hot each and every day.
Because truth of the matter is, after one day of watching our world suffer the way we do, I can become lukewarm. And if I am being completely honest, I can become cool – far too cool for my own liking.
You see, I like to use excuses. That my suffering is deep and my hurt is real. I find ways to justify my weak faith. But I am here to rally us, friends!
We can’t give up. We persevere. We keep fighting! And we do it this way:
We pray ourselves insanely hot.
And then we do it again tomorrow.
Go on, dear warrior, get after it today. You and I, we’ve got a world to change and it starts on our knees.
While we all get behind this movement of prayer, leave a note below encouraging one another. Let’s make prayer contagious – a swarm of women praying themselves ablaze for the Kingdom of God.