Bring your whole self to God

Over the past decade, there has been a push to make places of employment “more inclusive”.  While that term has a variety of definitions and applications, one phrase that I’ve frequently heard is the desire to “bring your whole self to work” – and this idea is often hooked up to the argument that we’re not autonomous worker-robots simply there to do the company’s bidding.  Instead, we’re told, the ideal would be to foster belonging and acceptance, because a unified group gets more accomplished than a fractured group.

The counter-argument doesn’t necessarily advocate for a fractured group, rather the question is more around “How much of ‘our whole self’ really needs to be identified, shared, and celebrated within the workplace?”.  And this debate has volleyed back and forth over the recent years, with many businesses and employees caught in the cross-fire.

Regardless of how you view the idea of “bringing your whole self to work” – I have to wonder how much we have this same struggle in our relationship with God.  Are we holding back?  Are we over-sharing? If you’re not sure, try a few of these questions:

Do we approach God in prayer with the same robotic, formula-driven phrases because that’s what we think He wants to hear? 
Are we afraid He will get mad at us for being less-than-perfect or frazzled by the day’s events? 
Have we convinced ourselves that our issues are too small for the God of the Universe to be bothered with?
Do we feel guilty after we have an emotional outburst (anger, tears, etc.) while talking to God?
Do we think that God will “bring down lightning” or punish us for questioning His plans?

When we’re troubled by questions like this, the best place to go is to the Scriptures.  One famous psalm that is familiar to most people is Psalm 23, which starts out like this:

Psalm 23:1
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.

Reading through that psalm, we can find many truths that can be very comforting.  But did you know that the psalm just before it, Psalm 22, starts out very differently:

Psalm 22:1
My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?

Completely different feeling and situation from what we read in Psalm 23.  Both psalms are authored by the same guy, David.  He’s talking about the same God in both psalms.

Most importantly – don’t miss this – God considers both of these psalms to be acceptable worship.  Psalms were not just words written on a page, but they were songs to be sung.  Can you imagine singing “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?” in a church today?  And yet, the ancient Israelites sang it to God.

Take a look for yourself and survey the first verse of any number of the 150 psalms in the Bible – you’ll find that the ancient Israelites indeed brought their “whole selves” to God, looking to Him for truth, rescue, comfort, relationship, excitement, guidance, and support.  Regardless of circumstances, God welcomed them, just as they were.

So let’s stop with trying to say “the right prayer” or worrying that we don’t sound like our pastor when he prays.  Bring your whole self to God.  There’s no need to hide or pretend to be perfect.

Keep Pressing,
Ken

Depressed, messy prayers

There is a lot of nervousness right now about the economy and job security.  Government jobs are under heavy scrutiny, and while many private-sector companies are cautiously optimistic about the future…they’re also worried about budget constraints, talent shortages, foreign politics, domestic politics, and waning consumer sentiment – because many Americans still feel the impact of high prices.

If you’re feeling like your job security is low, then public perceptions, partisan divides, and loudly-shouted mixed opinions about economic data do nothing to alleviate your fears.  While I’m not currently there, I have been before.  There have been times in previous positions where I’ve been worried that I might lose my job for something I did, or times that I worried about moves the company was making that could eliminate my position, or times when fear and nervousness spiked because a “reduction in force” happened with no warning at all.

And in all those times, you know what always grew?  The amount of time I spent praying.  Nothing drives you to increase your time talking with God as much as having your paycheck security threatened. 

But what of those prayers?  How do you pray for help when the world around you feels so uncertain?  Especially if you haven’t talked with God 1-on-1 in a while…just letting the preacher on Sunday talk to God for you.  Should I sit up straight, fold my hands, bow my head, and close my eyes?  Do I need to drop down to my knees and (politely) beg?  Should I recite the Lord’s Prayer five times…ten times…more?  What are the right words to say?  Pastor Tony Evans has this advice:

If you have wrongly assumed that all prayer should be dignified and employ only theological jargon in your petitions to God, you have not understood prayer rightly.  Let David be your model. He approaches God honestly, pleading emotionally for deliverance.  As a troubled child depends on his or her daddy, go to your heavenly Father in your turmoil and open your heart to Him.

That is exactly what David did.  In Psalm 142, the beginning header recounts that this was written when he was in the cave.  How dark was it?  How confining?  How much despair and depression did the sloped walls communicate?  They certainly contributed to his mood and the raw words he prayed:

Psalm 142
I cry aloud to the Lord;
I plead aloud to the Lord for mercy.
I pour out my complaint before Him;
I reveal my trouble to Him.
Although my spirit is weak within me, you know my way.

Along this path I travel they have hidden a trap for me.
Look to the right and see: no one stands up for me;
there is no refuge for me; no one cares about me.

David certainly felt isolated and unsure of his future.  When he looks to the right and sees…no one, he feels utterly alone.  There was no one there to be his “right-hand man”; a warrior would have his trusted ally on his right to help protect his flank while holding his own shield with his left hand.  But for David…he looks and finds no one to care about him.

Alone.  Surrounded by cave walls.  No support.  All he sees are hidden traps up ahead. 
Perhaps you can relate. 

So David does the only thing he can do, and it is a model for us as well:

I cry to you, Lord;
I say, “You are my shelter, my portion in the land of the living.”
Listen to my cry, for I am very weak.
Rescue me from those who pursue me,
for they are too strong for me.
Free me from prison so that I can praise Your name.
The righteous will gather around me
because you deal generously with me.

There are no highbrow words, no flowery talk.  David doesn’t posture, fake being strong, or try to bargain with God.  Instead, he readily admits: I am very weak…they are too strong for me.  He can’t do this on his own.  The future, apart from God’s rescue, has no hope.

Looking at David’s example…it’s ok to pray this way.  Be raw.  Be real.  Be honest.  Tell God that you are weak, but you trust that He will be strong.

David made it out of that cave, because the God he trusted took care of him.  You can, too.

Keep Pressing,
Ken