Talking Across the Table

Do you have friends who whine and complain about stuff? Do you have family members who only talk about themselves? Do you like talking with these people? Do you go out of your way to spend time with them? Do they annoy the stink out of you?

I recently realized I'm that person.

I don't know how it happened, but my prayer life has been like that. God must hate to see me coming. “Oh no. Here comes Amy. Where can I hide? I wonder what she's whining about today?”

I know God doesn't look at me like that. But if He did, I would totally understand.

I once had a vision. It wasn't a real vision, more like a really clear picture in my head. I was sitting at the dining room table in my parent’s house, praying. I have no idea what was on my mind, but I was really going to town, verbally throwing things at God and then throwing something else. I didn't take a break or let up. I didn't give Him a chance to speak. I just kept going, on and on. Then, I “saw” Jesus sitting there, on the other side of the dining room table. He kept trying to say something, but I kept interrupting Him. He was too gentlemanly to stop me, so He kept listening and smiling and trying to get a word in edgewise.

Grandmama, across the table at her 95th birthday dinner.

I didn't realize I had become so self-centered. I was slipping down a slope of frustration and anger. I was constantly asking God to fix stuff. But, I wasn't making my request before the throne of grace in an attitude of trust and freedom. I wasn't acting like I KNEW God would answer. I was acting like a 4-year-old who thinks if they ask louder and longer and with enough tears, they'll get what they want. Not pretty.

There was no joyful expectation. There was just this ughhh, grasping and whining and ughhh.

Thankfully, God gently exposed my attitude. I'm sorry to admit this, but He had to show me in three different ways.

First off, I read the May 26^th devotion in Oswald Chambers' classic My Utmost for His Highest. Then, I started praying through Phyllis Tickle's book The Divine Hours, Prayers for Summertime. And, finally I started re-reading the Mitford books by Jan Karon.

On May 26^th Oswald Chambers says Jesus never mentions unanswered prayer. “He had the boundless certainty that prayer is always answered.” Then Chambers says, “The danger with us is that we want to water down the things that Jesus says and make them mean something in accordance with common sense; if it were only common sense, it was not worthwhile for Him to say it. The things Jesus says about prayer are supernatural revelations.”

Do you pray like that, as if God ALWAYS answers? Do you believe that? I've had “unanswered prayer” in my life and I bet you have too. So, do I choose to believe that God just hasn't answered yet, or that His answer was “no” or that He answered in a way I didn't notice? Do I choose to believe that He always hears, He's always attentive, He's always near?

A year ago, I was recovering from a total knee replacement. It wasn't horrible, it was just painful in ways I didn't expect – it affected my whole body, not just my leg and left me winded. I was tender and fragile. It was then I read about a book called The Divine Hours. It was described as praying scripture without picking up your Bible. It sounded holy and peaceful and beautiful; things I desperately needed.

I prayed through the book last summer and as June approached this year, was surprised to discover that I remembered and longed for the peace and order The Divine Hours would bring. So, I began again to pray with all those who've prayed before, “Lord God, almighty and everlasting Father, you have brought me in safety to this new day: Preserve me with your mighty power, that I may not fall into sin, nor be overcome by adversity; and in all I do direct me to the fulfilling of your purpose; through Jesus Christ my Lord. Amen.”

Lastly, I began reading again the Mitford books featuring Father Timothy Kavanagh. Father Tim is an Episcopal priest in the fictional village of Mitford. These books are a beautiful picture of a life well-lived. It's fun to follow Father Tim as he walks to the Main Street Grill or gets called out to lunch with his oldest parishioner who tells him all her romantic family secrets. We get to watch and listen as he shares his faith and lives out his calling. The books are encouraging and sweet.

I once met Jan Karon, the author of these books, at a book signing. I quickly confessed my desire to write. She finished her signature, looked up with a smile and said, “Just do it! Honey, it's not brain surgery.”

Sitting around the table at a CRU ladies retreat dinner.

Lauren Winner in Girl Meets God confessed to loving the Mitford books. But, she was also embarrassed to be seen reading them, too simplistic I suppose. On her commute in NYC, she covered the books with brown paper so her secret would remain safe and she could continue getting her daily dose of encouragement.

So, God used these 3 books to guide me back to Him. I hadn't strayed, I was just desperate to get God to behave. I rehearsed my issues to Him over and over (and over and over). I told Him what needed to be done and when it should happen. I had a death grip on my plan and wasn't about to let go.

Since realizing this I would like to say I'm “cured”! I can let go and let God. But, I still slip up, often. My grasp may be looser, but it's still a grasp. I don't live with my hands unclenched yet. I'm more willing to listen, more willing to relax, more willing to trust. I still snatch things off the altar and start dragging them home thinking God doesn't know what He's doing. But, I'm quicker to turn around and go back; quicker to leave my petitions, my offerings, myself.

I'm trying to get closer to what G.K. Chesterson talked about when he said, "You say grace before meals. All right. But I say grace before the concert and the opera, and grace before the play and pantomime, and grace before I open a book, and grace before sketching, painting, swimming, fencing, boxing, walking, playing, dancing and grace before I dip the pen in the ink."

That may be one of the problems I've been having: a Believer's life really isn't supposed to be divided into “prayer” and “cooking dinner” or “prayer” and “working out”. It's supposed to be a life of continual conversation. A give and take. A ceaseless communication. A hopeful, joyful, peaceful togetherness.

Just like talking across the table.