Retreat 1

There is nothing that unearths our deeply-held beliefs about God like our practice of prayer. How we pray, where we pray, when we pray, what we pray — all of these movements are like mirrors that reflect what we truly believe about our Father in heaven.

Especially in troubled times, we may be tempted to question God’s character, maybe not overtly, but in some small corner of our soul we may hear an ancient whisper: God is not good and cannot be trusted. Better grab what you can get. You are on your own.

It was that seed of insinuation that sent the first flash of fear through the first man and woman in a garden. It is that sinister seed that still germinates in the substrate of our souls today. So when the world collapses around us, our first impulse is to kick into overdrive, burn through fear like jet fuel and act upon a lie that we don’t even know we’ve heard:

Better grab what I can get. I am on my own.​

What does that action look like in real time? For some of us, we aggressively grab as much power and control that we can wrangle. For others, we over-extend ourselves, grasping for affection and esteem. Still others develop a white-knuckle grip on our own security and survival. Or, if you’re like me (Donna), you master the ability to do all three. In other words, we act like orphans who’ve been abandoned or, at best, neglected children with a parent who lies to us and withholds the very things we need.

Jesus knew exactly what He was up against when He started gently digging around in our prayer life in His first sermon. He knew that a sinister seed had been tossed into our souls in a garden long ago, and He was here to once-and-for-all uproot it. He knew that our prayer practice reflected our most deeply-held beliefs about God, so He offered us a soft cloth to clean the mirror. Hear these words below in the kindest voice you can imagine. (I like to imagine the gentle voice of Mufasa under the stars with Simba. In my head, Jesus is played by James Earl Jones!):

You have a very good Father who knows you better than you know yourself, and He loves you. He is not standing over you with His arms folded, waiting for you to say the magic words to unlock His favor. He knows what you need before you even ask. You are not an orphan. You are His deeply-loved child.

The people sitting on the ground that day were likely shocked that Jesus spoke of Yahweh as their Father. As R.C. Sproul wrote, “The first Jewish rabbi to call God ‘Father’ directly was Jesus of Nazareth … It was for that reason that many of Jesus’ enemies sought to destroy him; he assumed to have this intimate, personal relationship with the sovereign God of heaven…” ​ Even more shocking still, Jesus suggested that our very good Father longs for a secret life with us, a hidden life of intimate communion, not meant for public consumption.

Jesus then invited those around Him to use their imaginations when thinking about their Father in heaven. He asked in Matthew 7, “Which of you, if your son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!”

How much more.​ With those three words, Jesus began to loosen the roots of the sinister seed that had grown into a sprawling plant within us. How much more. Jesus tossed His own mustard seed into the soil of our souls and invited us to think of the best father we could think of, then imagine how much more is our Father in heaven. Of course, Jesus knew He was sending us on an errand that would last a lifetime and beyond. He was planting a new seed in our soul that had the potential to grow into the largest of plants, if we would only give it light and water.

Whatever our best image of God, it will always fall short of who He truly is. We cannot imagine the depth of His goodness, His generosity, His love (Ephesians 3:14-21). Yet Jesus invites us to try.

Prayer is an invitation to plumb the depths of God’s goodness, and at the bottom of it all, to discover a heart of deep and abiding rest. We don’t have to grab, grasp or develop a white-knuckle grip. Our Father knows what we need, before we even ask. We can let go of our grip, and know that He is God(Psalm 46:10).

Take a moment to notice your internal level of tension. If you had to describe the state of your soul as either “clenched fists” or “open hands”, what is most true about you in this moment? Take a deep breath and say those words again slowly: Let go of your grip, and know that He is God.

When the world is collapsing around us, instead of grabbing, grasping or gripping, Jesus invites us to open up our hands and reach like a child for the Father. Instead of kicking into overdrive, Jesus invites us to collapse into our Father’s arms and rest.

There is a secret room where the Father waits to greet you. The more time you spend there, the less it becomes a place that you go to. Instead, it gradually becomes a place that you live from, a spacious place deep within you that unleashes the Father’s love — first into your own life, and then into the world.