Why I Hate Prayer. A Modern Psalm.

I like playing on my computers, listening to music, driving – I never find a problem with doing any of these things, regardless of what is going on around me. And eat, I really like to eat. I like to do things that are taboo. I truly dislike manual labor, traffic jams. And I hate to pray because I will hear from or see God.

Things we hate, we avoid them like the plague. If we must do them, we will put them off, find ways to lessen the impact, and minimize our exposure.

This list is oversimplistic because I only bought the view of one nature to bear – my natural man. Being born again, I have a second nature, the spirit man; I am in Christ because of what Christ has done for me, and in that, my spirit man is very much alive.

There is an Epic, Age Old War going on in here.

My spirit man loves to pray, loves to hear from God – in all of His myriad fashions and ways of speaking to me. Whether I’m hearing from Him, reading along with Him in His Word, gazing at the powerful wonders of nature – the orderly changing of seasons, the sounds of birds praising Him, the majestic unstoppable power of the storm – these things speak to my heart of GOD, allowing me to experience Him in 5.1 surround sound. If I just turn my heart heavenward, my soul begins to fill up with the understanding that He Is Here, right Here, with me.

I guess that’s what makes sin so regrettable, no - so evil. My petty, tyrant-like wants and lusts obscure the view of my God, and they use me to break our fellowship. And the morning comes, and the whispers of heaven begin to descend upon me, and I realize what I’ve done. A night without Him is too long.

Part 2: A Plea

Mercies come fresh, daily, but what about my nights? I loathe my nights, I hate them. Come Lord, oh, come Holy Spirit. A night without you is too long.

Oh God, help me to cherish our days and our nights together – those nights of turmoil, of noisome waves, of billows rolling over my soul like dark storm clouds shielding an army of angst and blackest passions. Be thou my Christ, even then… especially then. I need you, oh, how I need you.

Help me, Holy Spirit, to surrender those voices of my heart to you that stumble out of their bed with the rising of evening’s shadows. Banish the phantoms of twilight with the power of your presence. Teach me to stay within the halls of peace, inside the gates of praise, when the long shadows call. Teach my feet not to stray from your presence.

For who will protect me if I should wander from the fold? Who will keep me if I should quietly slip into the shadows? Who will help me?

Teach me to desire your presence more than the beating of my heart, the food I eat, the breath I breathe. Only there will I know peace.