Unanswered prayer? One reason . . .

People do not always agree and get along. I read and watch mysteries and even though most are fiction, they are based on this reality. Someone wants something they cannot have so they harm others trying to get it. Mostly, that thing they cannot have is a selfish desire. For this, God says:

What causes quarrels and what causes fights among you? Is it not this, that your passions are at war within you? You desire and do not have, so you murder. You covet and cannot obtain, so you fight and quarrel. You do not have, because you do not ask. You ask and do not receive, because you ask wrongly, to spend it on your passions. You adulterous people! Do you not know that friendship with the world is enmity with God? Therefore whoever wishes to be a friend of the world makes himself an enemy of God. (James 4:1–4)

The root of the problem is selfishness, another word for sinfulness. The object of desire could be legitimate but in this description the reason for wanting it is all about me, me, me. As a Christian, all I have to do is ask God for those things that I need, even the things that I want, but if my motivation is to bless myself or glorify myself, or make me the star, then the prayer will not be answered. I have made my wants and my stuff more important than listening to and obeying God.

It happens. I’m too embarrassed to name some of what I’ve asked for wrongly and God said no. I’m ashamed of the emotions that rose up because I didn’t get what I wanted and the arguments I’ve been in for the same reason. Yet if it were not for those experiences, I’d not know the reality of a couple of big reasons that God does not answer prayer.

One is that I do not ask. I assume I can get it for myself, perhaps knowing in my heart that it is the wrong thing to ask for anyway.

The other is that I ask but with that selfish motivation that this thing is for me, to satisfy me, to make me the winner, to do for me what I should not want but am asking anyway.

There are lessons learned from being selfish. While God often shields my foolishness from the public eye, just knowing that others see how I’m thinking and acting is awful. Worse yet, knowing I’m putting myself above the care and wisdom of God is humbling. For this, I should be thankful. The alternative, a hard heart, would make the next few verses meaningless . . .

But he gives more grace. Therefore it says, “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.” Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded. Be wretched and mourn and weep. Let your laughter be turned to mourning and your joy to gloom. Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will exalt you. (James 4:6–10)

From being so selfish and from realizing God becomes deaf to my selfish prayers makes me realize my pride and the way the devil manipulates my thinking. It also makes me realize that this passage has a logical sequence. It is summarized at the beginning: “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.” This is well described in the next lines.

Submit to God comes first. There is no power to resist Satan or my own selfishness while I try to hang on to it. I cannot serve Him while I am trying to serve me.

Resist the devil comes on the heels of submitting to God. Stop listening to the devil’s lies and destructive suggestions. If I am yielded to God, he must leave and he does. Sometimes it takes me a while to figure out what I’ve held back from God, but once that happens (and is confessed) the pressure is off. I win — by giving up!

The reset of it is easy. Mourning over sin is not fun, but in the end, God exalts me. That is always unexpected, even though I know this verse. God is utterly amazing!

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Jesus, there are times when I’ve prayed, “You are my Savior, save me” and You come to the rescue. However, there are times when I’ve prayed, “Give me . . . .” and asked for foolish and sinful things. I’m so glad that You are not like a genie in a bottle that grants every wish. You keep me from the silliness and sinfulness of myself. For that, I praise and thank You.

Today’s thankful list . . .

The Word of God that tells me how to live in victory.

The energy that comes with freedom from selfishness.

Ability to choose.

Finally being able to get my sister on the phone.

My personal trainer who refuses me the luxury of whining.

Being able to record rugby games in the middle of the night to watch the next day.

Crisp cold air with sunshine.

Salmon sandwiches on homemade bread.

I’m my own worst enemy

As I ask God to ruin my pride and make me more like He wants me to be, I’m experiencing the power of that old nature. Far too easily I listen to the lies of my spiritual enemy and stubbornly refuse to take second place to God and His glory.

Example. Certain issues vie for my attention these days, none of them being very important, but I’ve felt discouraged by their combined weight. I’ve asked God for His joy and strength, yet cannot seem to get past this sense of being overwhelmed. This morning’s devotion was based on verses taken out of context and didn’t do a thing for me, so I turned to another source.

The reading in that one is Psalm 71:21, which says, “You shall increase my greatness, and comfort me on every side.” The author of the devotional starts to hit on my problem. He says (I’ve edited it to make it personal):

God comforts me on every side, but I do not believe His words of comfort. The remedy for this is plain. If I want to be comforted, I must believe every word of comfort God has ever spoken and refuse to listen to any words of discomfort spoken by my heart or by my circumstances (and by the devil). I must set my face like a flint to believe in the divine Comforter no matter the sorrows and trials, and accept and rejoice in His all-embracing comfort. I’m to “set my face like a flint,” because when everything around me seems out of sorts it is not always easy to believe God’s words of comfort. I must put my will into this matter of being comforted just as we put my will into all other matters in our spiritual lives. I must choose to be comforted.
This may seem impossible when things look all wrong. How can I believe that God really is caring for me as a mother cares for her children? Although I know perfectly well that He says He does care for me in just this tender and loving way, I say, “Oh, but I don’t feel as if He cares.” This is where my will must come in. I must say to myself, “God says it, and it is true, and I am going to believe it no matter how it looks or how I feel.”

I know these things. Why then am I still wallowing around? The Holy Spirit answers my question with this, “You are insisting on focusing on yourself, even when it makes you miserable, even when you know this is not My way. Such is the strength of your sinful flesh. You want to be the center, but you must put that selfishness to death.”

I know the way to do that. I need to praise God, think about Him, and be thankful. Even though the Bible says our battle is not against flesh and blood, and even though I know my spiritual enemy would have me take my eyes off God, I also know that my flesh, my old nature, is one of my worst enemies and to declare war on it requires the power of God and full cooperation on my part. It also requires remembering that for this stubborn, selfish me, the Lord Jesus shed His blood.

. . . His wonders to perform

Prayer is answered . . . a prodigal comes home . . . a hardened heart is made soft . . . “God works in mysterious ways” is a common response to these or any unexpected good news, yet I’ve not heard anyone say it when tragedy strikes.

God’s use of calamity and disaster is the deeper mystery. He takes what looks like the worst thing that can happen and uses it for His purposes. How can this be?

For instance, Zechariah 13:7 refers to the coming Messiah, the Good Shepherd who would come to save His people. The Jews expected a strong leader who would deliver them from oppression and all their enemies, but their expectations were crushed in this prophecy, even before Jesus came:

“Awake, O sword, against My Shepherd, against the Man who is My Companion,” says the Lord of hosts. “Strike the Shepherd, and the sheep will be scattered; then I will turn My hand against the little ones.”

This verse says that God’s Shepherd is literally, “the man of my union.” The Hebrew word used here is “a mighty man,” one peculiarly man in his noblest ideal. It could also be translated “My fellow,” “My associate,” “My equal” or “My nearest kinsman.”

This is the One that God calls the sword to strike. He was His equal, His own Son. What could be more mysterious? And then, when the Messiah was killed, those who followed Him would be scattered too. God would even “turn His hand” against them too. How could any of this be good news?

My study Bible says “against” could be “upon” and therefore refer to His protection, which fits better with the verses to follow for they tell how God will save a remnant of those who believe. Yet even then, He says they will be brought “through fire” and be refined as silver is refined and as gold is tested. In other words, not only will the Good Shepherd suffer and die for His sheep under the plan of God, but we who are His sheep will also suffer as part of His plan and His mysterious ways.

The only way that this mysterious plan of God makes sense to me is when I remember the seriousness of sin and the reality of its power in my life. Sin permeates everything. My most noble deeds can easily turn into acts of self-centered glory. When I am deeply and truly worshiping God, the thought ‘do people notice my love for Him’ can pop into my head. Sin is an insidious, seductive and stealthy enemy that creeps into my life even as I focus on the only One who can save me from it.

God knows that defeating such a terrible enemy requires terrible measures. His pure and sinless Son would take sin’s penalty, an act of mercy from a Judge who rightly could strike us all with a sword for our sinful rebellion and resistance toward Him.

Did the disciples scatter for fear they would be next? They loved Jesus, but their desire to protect themselves came first. That “I will take care of me” attitude must become “God will take care of me” and it did, but only after God took them through the refining fire of His mysterious ways.

He taught them, as He teaches me, that unexpected goodness and mercy AND unexpected difficulties and tragedy are both in His plan for my life. He uses both to defeat and destroy my great enemy, that selfish, me-first attitude that is at the root of godlessness.

This is a great mystery, not just that He uses tragedy or tough things to deal with my sin, but that He persists! Jesus died for me yet I still sin against Him so easily. However, God persists in this mystery of using all things, even tough times, to change and purify my life.

Under His gaze

Last night I blew it. One of my library books went missing and after thirty minutes of searching for it (when I had lots of more important things to do), I started to rant, accuse everyone in the house and out of the house of stealing it, and then slamming things in frustration.

When I found it (not where it belonged), I started to feel foolish. After yesterday’s beautiful call to “go higher” I dropped a few notches lower and felt the Lord’s gaze on me, probably like Peter did after he denied Him three times.

This morning takes me to Revelation 1:14. It describes John’s vision of Jesus, “His head and hair were white like wool, as white as snow, and His eyes like a flame of fire.”

The typical understanding of that first glimpse of Jesus is not at all like the one John had. Most of us think of the Jesus in a Greg Olsen painting, a mild face, a smile, a welcoming hand reaching out to take ours, and a shoulder to lean on. Jesus is all that, but He also is blazing holiness with eyes like lasers that penetrate our sinful hearts.

After praying about being such a ninny, I realized the supposed loss of that book was a symbol of the other losses I am experiencing during this unexpected change in our lives. Instead of grieving those, I poured all my frustration into an innocent book and at anyone who happened to be within earshot.

This morning I think about the glowing white light of the glory of God, of His fire that burns away impurities, of the grandeur of who He is. He has called me closer to that, closer to His greatness, His holiness. I know today that getting there means letting His eyes examine me, letting His fire at me.

Hebrews 12:11 says, “Now no chastening seems to be joyful for the present, but painful; nevertheless, afterward it yields the peaceable fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.”

This isn’t fun, yet Hebrews 12 also tells me to keep my eyes on Him, the One with the laser eyes who is the Author and Finisher of my faith, because He loves those He chastens. He also promises me that “kingdom which cannot be shaken” and encourages me to serve Him "with reverence and godly fear."

Pressing on . . .