A Thought About Prayer

I often feel that prayer is one of those subjects, best left to professors and graduate students to teach about. There have been thousands of books written about prayer, and quite frankly the few I've read have confused me. But, recently prayer has been on my mind, so I want to share a thought I have about it.

When I moved to Waco, I left many of the people that I love in Abilene. Others are in Round Rock, Dallas, and places like California. It was the first time in six years that I'd been away from some of these people. You may be wondering, "So what does that have to do with prayer?" and my answer is, everything. Over the past few weeks I've found prayer to be the ultimate connector. Greater than any conversation I could have with these loved ones, although the conversations we have are great, the time I spend in prayer for them makes me feel closer to them than anything else. I think it has something to do with God being all places, at all times. As I sit in my apartment in Waco thinking about, and praying for my friends and family, I know that the Spirit is interceding for them because of my prayers. I know that God is hearing my prayers and not only looking down on, but sitting with, those I'm praying for as I talk with Him.

Yes, it is hard to wrap our heads around the ways in which God can and does work. At times, I wonder if He is even here with me, let alone everywhere in the universe at once. But, the fact that God is omnipresent makes him the ultimate connector and community builder. When we pray for others we are interceding on their behalf, actively advocating for their interest rather than our own. This selfless act creates a deep connection between us and those we are praying for. It creates a connection that runs deeper than the superficial conversations that we so often engage in face to face. Prayer can connect individuals and build communities that words and interactions between two people could never accomplish. So, as I sit in my apartment in Waco, yes, I miss those that I've had to leave; however, I know that we are as close now as we have ever been.

This is where I make my disclaimer that I'm not a theologian or a bible scholar. I'm just a law student doing a little thinking about prayer. Take it for what it's worth.

"And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the saints."-Ephesians 6:18

"In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express"-Romans 8:26

Comfortable? I hope not.

Lately I've been thinking a lot about being comfortable in life. Starting law school and the "torture" that everyone seems to think it is will make a guy think about stuff like that. As I thought back over my life I realized two things:

1. I have lived a life of great comfort.
2. It was in the moments of discomfort that I was stretched and grew the most.

In high school athletics there was an entire season of the year, "0ff-season", set aside for discomfort. The running and weight lifting we did was never a comfortable thing as we constantly pushed our bodies to the limit. Yet, we improved our strength and endurance the most during this time. Training for the half and full marathons I've done was much the same way. During the longest most uncomfortable runs I found the greatest reward.

This idea doesn't just apply to physical activity though. Giving a speech in front of the entire student body at ACU wasn't comfortable for me, but I learned so much from it. Trying to maintain and then losing close relationships with others certainly wasn't comfortable but through those moments I learned things about myself and gained new perspectives on life that I'd never thought of before.

As I was thinking about all of this a question came into my mind, "How often do I ask for comfort and run from the uncomfortable in my walk with God?". If I grow the most during moments that stretch me in every other area of my life, why should I imagine that it would be any different in my walk with God? At Cross Training Reg Cox said, "Jesus is more interested in your eternal problems than your temporary ones here on earth". Jesus sees the whole picture, he knows the growth we will achieve through the moments of discomfort, if only we will have the courage to step out and follow him.

As I begin law school it is my prayer that I can keep this perspective and remember that nothing in life worth doing is easy, including following Jesus. I pray we all have the courage to embrace, and accept the challenges and moments of discomfort in our lives, trusting that we are being led by the only one who truly knows the way.

To The Mountains and Back Again: Part 2

Over the past week I've done a lot of thinking about my time in the mountains, but I also read an amazing book titled Three Cups of Tea. It is a true story about an average guy, he lived out of his car for a good portion of the book, who quite literally is changing the world. Greg Mortenson wandered upon Korphe village in a remote region of Pakistan after failing to summit K2. Greg was touched by the people there and promised to build the children a school. He then embarks on an epic adventure, not only building the children of Korphe a school, but building over 55 schools in the next decade right in the middle of the Taliban in Pakistan and Afghanistan.

What struck me the most about this book was the way Greg described the childrens' lives. Growing up in severe poverty surrounded by war, without ever being given an opportunity for something more through a quality education, they would be taken in by extreme Islamic madrassas. Here they would be taught violence and extremism through a mob mentality. Yet for these children it was three meals a day and more than they could ever have hoped for by staying at home. Given their living conditions of course they would go and do whatever was asked of them.

As I was reading this I couldn't help but think of my new friends in Chamisal, New Mexico. A place where children also grow up in the shadow of the awe inspiring beauty of the mountains, yet are caught in the middle of war. An area consumed by poverty, drugs, gangs, and where few outsiders question the status quo. The Taliban may not be recruiting these kids to attend madrassas, but local gangs are recruiting them to do, sell, and smuggle drugs. They are desensitizing them to violence and stripping them of hope for a better future. They promise them little, but it is still more than the hope they have for escaping what seems to be perpetual poverty. We talk about securing our borders and national security, imagining that putting up walls and defeating the Taliban will fix these issues. But what about the wars being fought and people that are being overlooked right here in America?

Today's children are the leaders and decision makers of tomorrow. If we don't provide American children with education and the opportunity to truly partake of it, then we have much greater problems looming in the future. Let us all strive to be a Greg Mortenson to the hurting and searching around us, because it is bold acts like his that are changing the world as we speak.

To The Mountains and Back Again: Part 1

I spent last week surrounded by the mountains and some amazing people in Sipapu, New Mexico. Friendships were forged that will last for years to come and the little ski resort in Sipapu will never be the same. This is the first blog chronicling my time in Sipapu and the things I learned and experienced during Cross Training 2010.

The "advance van" pulled into Sipapu early in the evening on Saturday and I was greeted by this picture. If this was all that happened during the week I would have been content, but little did I know that the real journey was beginning the next day. After running 4 miles in the early morning through a light mist we left for church in the village of Chamisal. We went to talk with the minister Juan about the service projects that we would be doing at the church and in the valley during the week. As I entered the church I never imagined the people there would steal my heart so quickly.

We entered the small, aging church to find 20 or so people there for church that day and I wasn’t sure what to expect. You might call what happened there a “worship stew” as 5 different people led songs throughout worship (none of them close to being on key) and more than half the worship was in Spanish. But I found myself getting lost in it. Singing along even though most of the time I hadn’t a clue what the words meant or how to pronounce them, because the hearts that were being poured out in worship were so pure and beautiful. We came to the part in the song, Days of Elijah, that says “of famine, and darkness, and sword” and it was as if my eyes were opened for the first time. Singing about famine and darkness has a whole different meaning when you are sitting in a church in the middle of one of the most poverty stricken counties in America, that is continually plagued by violence; drugs; and gangs. Poverty is a way of life in the valley. Simply put, no one knows different or has hope for change because it has been this way for so long. It seemed that time stopped in the 70’s but the buildings kept decaying.

After church ended and we had spent some time with the people there we headed to the neighboring village of Penasco for lunch. We walked into a small “trendy” restaurant whose walls were filled with Taos artists’ works many selling for more than $600 and whose menu had nothing on it for less than $11. It was as if being in the middle of all the poverty made the place “cool” for tourist and some who had retired in the area. Listening to the conversations at tables around us I couldn’t get the picture of a small jar set on a table at the front of the church building that read “Building Fund $482.99” out of my head. I kept asking myself, “Do these people not know what is going on just 5 miles away?” As we left the restaurant a part of me felt ashamed of the Polo shirt I was wearing, my $90 a month iPhone bill, and the lack of attention I’d paid to those in need my whole life.

As I began to contemplate the stark contrasts that I’d seen that morning and what it meant to me, the campers showed up….

“For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’” -Matthew 25:35-40