prayer

The REAL battle this weekend

/ jdunderwood / 4 Comments

NOTE: The topic and the links I’m sharing are not comfortable.

A year and a half ago I wrote an article (it’s on page four of the link) about two American women who provide dignified employment for at-risk women in Bangladesh, a country known for its sex slave industry. At the same time my husband, Dave, was teaching a new class at Wheaton Academy titled Culture and Theology. One of the units in the class was modern-day slavery, so we were both researching the issue and how it impacts every single country, including the U.S., where we live. I read a book titled The White Umbrella about the sex slave trade in the U.S. and about one specific ministry in the Atlanta, Georgia-area that reaches out to girls rescued from it. Dave discovered ministries like End It Movement and Love 146, which fight against human trafficking. At some point in our research, Dave discovered that the Super Bowl creates a huge market for trafficking.

That’s the reason for this particular post at this particular time.

“In 2010, the National Center of Missing and Exploited Children reported that 10,000 women were sold for sex at the Miami Super Bowl.” That quote is from an article published today that calls the Super Bowl a “sex-trafficking magnet.” Here’s a link to the several articles The Huffington Post has recently published on this topic.

Please pray.

Thanks for reading,

Jen

Praying for Sudan today

/ jdunderwood / 9 Comments

This past weekend Dave and I watched most of the documentary God Grew Tired of Us about the Lost Boys of Sudan who left their homes during the long, drawn-out war between north Sudan and south Sudan (as of 2011 a separate country). Thousands upon thousands of South Sudanese were displaced by the conflict, among them 20,000 boys who trekked their way to Ethiopia, finding relief (those who didn’t die on the long journey) of a sort in refugee camps there. Violence forced them to move again, and those who survived eventually settled in camps in Kenya. They were dubbed the “lost boys of Sudan,” and the documentary tells the story of a few who were eventually relocated in the United States (you can watch it free on Hulu). It isn’t short, so if you are interested, you’ll need to set aside a couple hours to watch it. Warning: there’s footage and pictures of boys close to death from starvation, so not one to watch with small children. There is another film (which I have not seen) on this story titled, appropriately, Lost Boys of Sudan.

This is a popular topic, made so by the films and books written on it and by the involvement of the actor George Clooney. Due to the publicity, many of the lost boys who settled in the U.S. were able to begin relief work in their country and to advocate for their country’s separation from northern Sudan. When South Sudan gained its independence, many of them returned to celebrate. However, violence has broken out in Sudan again. John Bul Dau explains the conflict well in an article by National Geographic. Here’s another article about it at the New York Times. South Sudanese are being displaced once again.

I know this is only one of hundreds of conflicts in our world today, one of hundreds of issues that grieve God’s heart, but it’s the particular one I prayed for this morning. I was reading Isaiah 63, and this verse jumped out at me: “I (God) was amazed to see that no one intervened to help the oppressed. So I myself stepped in to save them with my strong arm, and my wrath sustained me” (verse 5). The “oppressed” who came to my mind when I read that were the South Sudanese. I did some quick research, read about the current conflict, and wanted to share.

ADDITION: World Vision, of course, is already in the area and taking donations for their efforts. Here’s the link if you want to read more/donate: World Vision.

Holy Spirit Help

/ jdunderwood / Leave a comment

Yesterday a friend and I were emailing back and forth about the idea of applying the “Opposite technique” (last blog post) to our prayer life—and to our “doing” lives as well—and she wrote this: How are we to do that? We cannot give what we don’t have. I personally churn negative/yucky/critical/judgmental/poopie thoughts all day long, um… why cannot I churn the OPPOSITE?!

Later I read that day’s devotional from Morning and Evening by Charles Spurgeon. This is part of what he wrote:

All that the believer has must come from Christ, but it comes solely through the channel of the Spirit of grace. Moreover, as all blessings thus flow to you through the Holy Spirit, so also no good thing can come out of you in holy thought, devout worship, or gracious act, apart from the sanctifying operation of the same Spirit. … Do you desire to speak for Jesus—how can you unless the Holy Ghost touch your tongue? Do you desire to pray? Alas, what dull work it is unless the Spirit makes intercession for you! … Let us do him the due homage of feeling our entire weakness apart from him, and then depending alone upon him…

Hmm. We cannot DO the opposite technique without the power of the Holy Spirit, and first the Spirit must reveal to us that our natural inclination is “yucky” (or “poopie,” your choice!).

This reminds me of a visit to a coffee shop last week. I ordered my favorite hot, sweet drink. The barista who made it is the son of a good friend, and when he handed me my cup, he said, “You do not want to know how much bad stuff we put in there! That thing is loaded!”

“Stop!” I told him. “You’re right! I don’t want to know!”

That’s the Spirit’s first job—to reveal to us what we don’t want to know about ourselves.

The problem is that we often think we’re supposed to take it over from there.

But the rest of the transformation—the thinking/doing the opposite of our natural inclinations, is ALSO the Spirit’s job.

To which I say, Hallelujah!

O God, send forth your Holy Spirit into my heart that I may perceive, into my mind that I may remember, and into my soul that I may meditate. Inspire me to speak with piety, holiness, tenderness and mercy. Teach, guide and direct my thoughts and senses from beginning to end. May your grace ever help and correct me, and may I be strengthened now with wisdom from on high, for the sake of your infinite mercy. Amen. -a prayer by Saint Anthony of Padua

Applying George Costanza’s “Opposite technique” to my prayer life

/ jdunderwood / 5 Comments
I could say that this picture fits this post because I took a shot of the bottom side of the leaf rather than the top, but that would be cheesy, right?!

I could say that this picture fits this post because I took a shot of the bottom side of the leaf rather than the top, but that would be cheesy, right?!

Dave and I were Seinfeld junkies in the early years of our marriage. One of our favorite episodes was “The Opposite,” in which Jerry tells perennially down-on-his-luck George that every impulse he has is wrong, and George decides to do the opposite of his impulses. A few minutes later he meets a very attractive woman and tells her, straight up, “My name is George. I’m unemployed, and I live with my parents.” (Usually he said he was an architect [not true].) Amazingly, she agreed to go out with him.

It’s a funny, funny episode (as most of them are), but the reason I bring it up is that I’ve been trying to apply this idea to certain areas of my prayer life lately.

I’ve been practicing “the opposite” technique on my natural impulses of guilt/comparison/criticism.

When I’m reading an article in Voice of the Martyrs (a magazine about the persecuted church) about believers who have lost everything but who are still sharing Jesus’ love with their neighbors, my first impulse is to think, Oh, they’re so much more spiritual than I am. I’m just not strong enough in my faith!

When I hear about people who work for the International Justice Mission, serve in shelters for battered women, deliver Meals on Wheels—you name it—my initial response is, I should be doing more.

When I see a woman who looks like she has it all together, my gut instinct is to compare, and my confidence gets beaten down in the process.

And when I see a woman who’s clearly struggling, deep down in me there’s also a bit of comparison going on—comparison that makes me feel better about myself.

When I’m picking up all the debris my children leave strewn across the floor and every available surface, there’s generally some silent fussing going on. (Sometimes it’s NOT silent!)

I used to read the verse about “praying without ceasing” and think, “How?”

But if I turn all my guilt/comparison/criticism into PRAYER and add to that my daily-sometimes-hourly cries for help, well, then that’s pretty un-ceasing!

So, when I hear the next radio piece about Mary Frances Bowley’s work with survivors of sexual abuse and prostitution, I will not waste my time feeling bad about the work I’m doing or guilty for not doing “more.” Instead I will pray for Mary Frances, for the girls at Wellspring Living’s safe house, for the many staff who work with them, and for those trapped in sex trafficking around the world.

When I am tempted to fuss about the messes my children have made, why not pray for them instead? I may still be frustrated, but I will have lifted my kids up to God as eternal souls.

What a better use of my time and energy!

Now I definitely want to avoid making this rote and mechanical, something I “have” to do, but, honesty, “rote and mechanical” often describes my complaining/comparison/guilt.

It’s simply a default pattern, a harmful one.

I need a new pattern to follow.

From ____________ to prayer.

Thank you, George!

And Jerry, of course!

NOTE: I think this kind of “new” practice/pattern is part of what Scripture refers to as the “renewing of our minds.” Here are a few verses that have to do with our souls and minds becoming “new.” Because these are pretty well-known verses, I looked them up in the Amplified version to make their messages fresh.

Romans 12:2 Do not be conformed to this world (this age), [fashioned after and adapted to its external, superficial customs], but be transformed (changed) by the [entire] renewal of your mind [by its new ideals and its new attitude], so that you may prove [for yourselves] what is the good and acceptable and perfect will of God, even the thing which is good and acceptable and perfect [in His sight for you].

Ephesians 4:22-24 Strip yourselves of your former nature [put off and discard your old unrenewed self] which characterized your previous manner of life and becomes corrupt through lusts and desires that spring from delusion; 23 And be constantly renewed in the spirit of your mind [having a fresh mental and spiritual attitude], 24 And put on the new nature (the regenerate self) created in God’s image, [Godlike] in true righteousness and holiness.

 

 

 

Always grace for regrets

/ jdunderwood / 1 Comment

Last week I overheard a conversation. The guy said, “A few years back, I rode the train every day to the job I was working then. That time became my listening time, my prayer time. I often prayed for other people in my train compartment, and for those coming and going.

“One day I felt led to pray for a woman sitting across from me. By all appearances, she looked homeless. The urge grew stronger. I wasn’t simply supposed to pray for her. I was supposed to approach her and ask if I could pray with her.

But my stop was coming up, and if I missed it, I would be late to work.”

He paused and looked directly into the eyes of the other person, owning the moment and his own admission. “I didn’t pray with her. I got off the train.

“And I’ve never forgotten that.”

I have regrets, too. Sometimes they are like that man’s, disregarded urges to reach out to a stranger. More often, mine are with people who are part of my family. I have mornings when I drop the kids off at school with a crummy feeling in the pit of my stomach. In the quietness of the post-drop-off, I examine why and realize it’s because of missed opportunities. I fussed instead of listening; I rushed instead of taking a moment to be still and assess; I lost it instead of laughing over something small.

We will always have regrets like these. It’s part of being human, being stuck in time, in moment-by-moment living.

The awful thing about “little” regrets like these is that the choices don’t seem nearly so difficult when we have the privilege of retrospection. In hindsight, I’m sure the teacher would have chosen to be late to work just that one day. I can almost always look back and see the humor in a mess or situation that at the time caused me frustration.

Yet the solution is not simple. It has no formulaic answer. I know that prayer—lots and lots of cries for help—is required. Slowing down helps. “Living at the pace of faith.” (Gotta admit—I stole that one from a church billboard, which has been making me think every time I pass it.)

But when we forget to pray, when slowing down doesn’t seem to be an option, when we’ve been chewed up and spit out by the pace of life, there is the constant of all constants: grace. We need blessed, real grace to actually remember to pray and slow down and live in faith. We also need it because the regrets will continue. We set ourselves up for guilt and shame if we think we can live without regrets, without missing the mark again and again and again.

This is messy sanctification, but it’s real, and it takes us, bit by bit, into a deep assurance that His grace is always greater than our regrets.

Always.

Great Eternal Father

/ jdunderwood / 1 Comment
Sometimes my praying is scattered. Some days my thoughts seem to jump and prayer gets lost. Not long ago I had one of those times. I was even using a verse to pray, thinking that would help, but I couldn’t get past the first line: “Great and eternal Father.”
I was about to go down my familiar road of beating myself up for being unable to focus on more, when I understood that “great and eternal Father” was more than enough. Those words—standing for the God they symbolize—gave me all I needed, both that day and forever. So I stuck with them and pinpointed my focus on my GREAT ETERNAL FATHER.
He is GREAT—all-powerful and all-good. My doubts don’t change God’s greatness. I can get hung up on questions or balk sometimes at “hard” passages of Scripture or cry, “Why? I don’t understand!” about injustices and pain, but all these problems—as I will see very, very clearly when my sight is enlightened by Glory—are with my perspective, not with God’s actions or character. Bottom line, He is great and good. No exceptions.
He is eternal. E-TER-NAL. I am fickle. My moods are upset by a headache; my values changed by circumstances; my commitments by my feelings.
He never changes.
He never will.
He is the same yesterday, today and forever. ETERNAL!
FATHER! How amazing that the GREAT, ETERNAL GOD has taken on the role of Father. He calls Himself “father to the fatherless.” He uses the picture of a mother hen who gathers her chicks under her wings to give us insight into Himself. He tells us He sings over us and holds us by the hand. He is immeasurably better than the best earthly father and so different from the worst that the word “father” is a travesty when applied to the human version. He even adds “Abba” (“Daddy”) to his title and gives us the incredible, unbelievable privilege of approaching him as a small child does a good father. In Christ He made the ultimate sacrifice so we could come to Him in this way.
GREAT and ETERNAL FATHER—that is a bedrock for my wavering soul.
DSC_0300

Happy birthday, twins! I can't believe they are 9! As they reminded me, this is their last year in the single digits. NOOOO!

Happy birthday, Jake and Maddie! I can’t believe they are 9! As they reminded me, this is their last year in the single digits. NOOOO!

I want to see

/ jdunderwood / Leave a comment

Bartimaeus the beggar was sitting alongside the road when he heard a great crowd pass by. “Hey,” he asked someone nearby, “what’s going on?”

“It’s Jesus!” they said.

Now Bartimaeus may have been blind, but he was in the know. He had heard of Jesus.

And Bartimaeus had no shame!

I love this about him. He understood his great need, and he let go of inhibitions and the desire to please people.

“He shouted, saying, ‘Jesus, Son of David, take pity and have mercy on me!’

But those who were in front reproved him, telling him to keep quiet; yet he screamed and shrieked so much the more, ‘Son of David, take pity and have mercy on me!’” (Luke 18:38-39, Amplified version)

This past Sunday night our church held its monthly prayer/worship night. Philip, who is from Uganda, led the service. “We must realize how desperate we are for God. Only then will we really seek Him,” he said. “People in my country are desperate because their needs are obvious, as basic as food, medicine, jobs. Great needs and loss surround them. Here in the U.S., we are not so desperate for physical things. But if we want to really follow after God, we have to realize that we are just as desperate spiritually. Then we will seek Him.”

It reminded me of something I heard a pastor from Ghana say. He was asked what advice he would give to U.S. believers. “You have a decision,” he said. “Will you seek God out of desperation or devastation?”

Bartimaeus recognized his desperation. It was easy for him to: he was blind; he was a beggar.

We, too, are desperate. Appearances may testify otherwise, but Scripture tells us that without Christ, we are blind, lost, and imprisoned (Acts 26:18). We are sick and injured (Jeremiah 17:9). We are walking dead—true zombies (Ephesians 2:1).

It just isn’t easy for us to realize this in our culture. If we’re not in a place of being devastated, it’s really easy to forget that we are desperate. We distract ourselves with stuff and activities and media, and our desperation stays hidden.

But when we don’t realize our desperation, we don’t cry out. We politely ask for growth and help. We share requests and sometimes remember to pray for others.

But desperate prayers are different. Bartimaeus is a good example of that. Out of desperation he cried out! More than that, he screamed and shrieked! He was NOT going to let anything keep Jesus from hearing him. Even when the crowd “reproved (him) and told (him) to keep still, … (he) cried out all the more” (Matthew 20:31).

Jesus, of course, answered Bartimaeus’ plea for mercy and pity.

“Then Jesus stood still and ordered that (Bartimaeus) be led to Him; and when he came near, Jesus asked him, ‘What do you want me to do for you?’ (Bartimaeus) said, ‘Lord, let me receive my sight!’”

Jesus will answer our pleas, too.

But we have to ask. Really ask. Desperately ask–because Jesus knows our hearts. He knows when we’re simply going through the motions, mouthing prayers, checking devotions off our to-do list.

We MUST recognize our desperation to cry out authentically. Desperation is an absolutely necessary step. All other steps follow it. Again, Bartimaeus serves as an example: out of desperation, he cried out; Jesus met him and healed him; and then Bartimaeus followed Jesus. Jesus told him, “Go your way; your faith has healed you” (Mark 10:52). But because Bartimaeus realized he been saved out of desperation, he saw with greater than physical sight. He knew his way was now with Jesus. “(He) began to follow Jesus, recognizing, praising, and honoring God; and all the people, when they saw it, praised God” (Luke 18:43).

I often want to skip right to the following part and the praising part. I want to be a witness to others.

But an acknowledgement of desperation is a prerequisite for all of it.

God, I need you desperately—and I need to know that I need You.

Help me, please.

I want to see.

Consider Him

/ jdunderwood / Leave a comment

I consider weekends my heaviest work days. With all the kids home, there’s extra cooking, extra driving…

Extra.

Sunday afternoon, in the middle of cleaning for our church small group that we host on Sunday nights, with dinner prep still to do while one kid needed homework help and another needed nagging to get working on homework…

I got grumpy.

Self-centered.

Full of an inner rant about—

I’m not going to go into it. I’m assuming everyone pulls the martyr card sometimes, so you know what I mean.

And in my kitchen, bent over with a dustpan, God stopped me.

Look at the verse for the day.

It wasn’t audible, but I knew for certain that I was supposed to put down the dustpan, cross to the microwave, and flip the verse calendar that sits on it to that day’s verse.

“Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.” Hebrews 12:3 (NIV ’84).

Seriously. That WAS the verse for that day.

Wow! You’re right, I prayed. How could I ever begin to compare my enduring to Christ’s? Help me to press on.

I did press on, but I still struggled with thoughts of self-pity, and this has continued off and on since Sunday (it would be better described as “on and off”). It’s been a recurring battle that I’ve either chosen to fight (with plenty of cries for help) or given into (yuck!).

On Sunday night, one of the women in our small group shared about a guilt battle that she has had to fight, over and over, in her head. It just won’t go away.

I’ve thought about her struggle as I’ve fought my own battle these last couple days. Why do some sin issues become recurring themes in our lives? Why aren’t they dealt with and done? Why do our cries for help for these sins grant release for only a short period before we have to do battle again?

But all my musings about the “why’s” haven’t helped me, either, even though I “know” some of the answers.

This morning I had to replace a burnt-out strand of lights on the Christmas tree. Even as I did this, my spirit continued to find all kinds of small things to gripe about. Tired of fighting the battle, I tried to shut my mind off. “Just stare at the lights,” I told myself. “They’re bright and beautiful.”

Look at the lights.

Somehow the phrase turned to Consider Him.

Consider Him, I thought. Consider Him.

“Oh, God!” I said in sudden realization, “Consider YOU!”

Not Your sufferings apart from You—like I’m trying to stack them up against my own petty “sufferings” and guilt myself into gratitude.

Consider YOU.

Because You are great and glorious and good. Because You are beautiful, bright light, and You long to shine into my darkness. And when I look at You, my darkness gets swallowed up.

When I look at You, I gain perspective. I see that, just as Your struggles had purpose, so do mine, even if I can’t see far enough to know what the purpose is. Just as You kept your eyes on the Joy of being reunited with Your Father Yourself and the Joy of reconciling many to Him, I can know there is an eternity ahead when I will know You in ways I can’t even imagine now.

When I consider Him, the rest of the Hebrews 12 passage gets worked out in my life.

I put up the lights, I wrote the above, and then I had to go to a dental appointment. The radio came on when I started the car, and the program was about women who are married to spouses who don’t follow Jesus. “Oh, that would be so hard,” I thought as I listened to the women’s stories of persistence and grace. “I’m so grateful for my marriage.”

Gratitude! For fellow believers—witnesses (Heb. 12:1)—who provide examples to me of turning to the Father again and again in their needs, and for the Father Himself, Who gives me exactly the right gifts—and exactly the right trials and discipline—to draw me closer to Him.

I’ve been far from gratitude these past few days. Most of my cheerfulness has been forced and false.

But considering Christ—Him alone—brought a real and genuine gratitude back and gave me sympathy for others.

Turn your eyes upon Jesus.

Look full in His wonderful face.

And the things of earth will grow strangely dim,

In the light of His glory and grace.*

Consider HIM.

 

*Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus by Helen H. Lemmel, copyright 1922

That's Maddie under the paper-sack mask!

That’s Maddie under the paper-sack mask!

points of the compass

/ jdunderwood / Leave a comment

This is an image I downloaded from the Voice of the Martyrs website (with their permission). The man on the left is Christian Bounchan Kanthavong, who spent 13 years and eight months in prison in Laos for his faith. On the right is the actor who portrays him in a video made by VOM that tells his story.

Today is the International Day of Prayer for the Persecuted Church. If you want to read more about the persecuted church, I suggest the Voice of the Martyrs website (www.persecution.com). Along with great resources and a regularly published newsletter,the VOM website allows you to sign up for weekly prayer updates that will help you to pray specifically (I don’t know about you, but my generalized prayers don’t pack a lot of oomph). VOM also has a really cool letter-writing opportunity. If you go to http://www.prisoneralert.com, you can pick an imprisoned fellow believer and choose phrases to create a letter to encourage that person. The site translates the phrases, you print them, and then you can send the letter to the address the site provides.

Another website is http://www.opendoorsusa.org, and http://www.persecutedchurch.org has an even fuller list of organizations (and their websites) that support the persecuted church.

This morning in church we read Revelations 7:9-11: “…there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb. They were wearing white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands. 10 And they cried out in a loud voice: “Salvation belongs to our God, who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb.” 11 All the angels were standing around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures. They fell down on their faces before the throne and worshiped God, 12 saying: “Amen! Praise and glory and wisdom and thanks and honor and power and strength be to our God for ever and ever. Amen!” 13 Then one of the elders asked me, “These in white robes—who are they, and where did they come from?” 14 I answered, “Sir, you know.” And he said, “These are they who have come out of the great tribulation; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.15 Therefore, “they are before the throne of God  and serve him day and night in his temple; and he who sits on the throne will shelter them with his presence. 16 ‘Never again will they hunger; never again will they thirst. The sun will not beat down on them,’[a] nor any scorching heat. 17 For the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd; ‘he will lead them to springs of living water.’[b] ‘And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.’[c]”

Earlier this week I ran across a hymn by John Oxenham (1852-1941) that reminded me of the incredible family connection we have with believers in Christ all across the earth. I’m sharing it here:

IN CHRIST THERE IS NO EAST OR WEST

In Christ there is no east or west,

In Him no south or north;

But one great fellowship of love

Throughout the whole wide earth.

In Him shall true hearts everywhere

Their high communion find;

His service is the golden cord

Close binding all mankind.

Join hands, then brothers of the faith,

Whate’er your race may be.

Who serves my Father as a son

Is surely kin to me.

In Christ now meet both east and west,

In Him meet south and north;

All Christly souls are one in Him

Throughout the whole wide earth.

One Cry

/ jdunderwood / Leave a comment

Here is a Web site to check out on the topic of big, bold prayer: http://www.onecry.com.

The OneCry Web site says this about itself: “OneCry is a movement of believers who are urgently crying out to God to revive the church and transform the culture. It isn’t an organization, program, or event. It’s a movement of like-minded people, churches, and organizations who agree that our nation needs a dramatic turnaround—but not the kind that comes from different politics, more education, or a better economy. Instead, it’s a cry to God for spiritual transformation of our hearts, homes, and communities. We believe that extraordinary things will happen as we turn from sin and seek God together!”

Tomorrow night (October 30) from 8-10 EST there is a OneCry radio prayer summit being aired by more than 300 stations. If you want more information on it, visit the OneCry Web site and scroll down to the bottom. You can view all the radio stations airing the summit or listen to it through the Web site itself.

“Prayer does not fit us for the greater work; prayer is the greater work.”
Oswald Chanbers