Remember the movie “A Bug’s Life”? If you have kids, you’ve probably watched it countless times—children love repeating their favorite films over and over. In that animated classic, a colony of ants lives in constant terror of the grasshoppers who swoop in like a plague, devouring everything in sight. The ants cower and hide, always wondering when the next attack will come, living their lives in fear of when the enemy will return.

This vivid picture perfectly captures the situation we find in Judges 6, where the Israelites faced their own version of grasshoppers—the Midianites. Just like those animated ants, God’s people were hiding in caves and strongholds, paralyzed by fear, never knowing when their enemies would strike next.

Fear has a way of making us feel small. Whether it’s that uncomfortable meeting with the boss or facing circumstances that seem insurmountable, we all know what it’s like to feel overwhelmed and inadequate. Yet within each of us—regardless of our perceived weaknesses—lies a warrior that God sees and wants to use.

The story of Gideon in Judges 6-7 reveals a profound truth: God doesn’t see us the way we see ourselves. He sees the warrior within, even when we’re cowering in fear, much like those frightened ants who would eventually discover their own courage.

When Fear Takes Hold

The Israelites found themselves in a desperate cycle that feels all too familiar. They had rebelled against God, leading to isolation, then bondage under their enemies, the Midianites. Like locusts, these enemies would swoop in and destroy everything the Israelites had worked for, leaving them hiding in caves and strongholds.

This cycle—rebellion, isolation, bondage—mirrors patterns we see in our own lives. When we distance ourselves from God, we often find ourselves isolated from others as well. That isolation creates a void we try to fill with other things: alcohol, drugs, pornography, or countless other substitutes for the soul connection that only Jesus can provide.

But there’s hope in this cycle. When we reach the end of ourselves, when we cry out to the Lord in our helplessness, He is faithful to respond with deliverance.

The Unlikely Warrior

Enter Gideon—hardly the picture of a mighty warrior. We find him threshing wheat in a winepress, hiding from the very enemies God would soon call him to defeat. Yet when the angel of the Lord appeared to him, the greeting was startling: “The Lord is with you, you mighty man of valor.”

This reminds me of a personal experience that perfectly captures how God sees us differently than we see ourselves. During seminary, I worked as a jailer—a job I was completely unsuited for. I wasn’t tough, didn’t have the “spiritual gift” of being a jailer, and dreaded the day I had to get certified on the rifle range.

I’d never really shot a rifle before, except for hunting squirrels with my grandfather in Louisiana. Standing on that windy day in Fort Worth, Texas, watching these burly, experienced marksmen struggle to hit even one or two clay targets, I felt like Don Knotts—shaking with fear and nerves. I needed to hit seven out of twelve to get certified, but I just prayed to hit one so I wouldn’t be completely humiliated.

They called me “preacher boy” and saved me for last. As I stood there, rifle trembling in my hands, I whispered one more prayer: “Lord, just let me hit one.” The first clay target flew out, and somehow—boom—I hit it. Then the second. By the end, I was the only one to get certified that day, hitting eight out of twelve while seasoned marksmen looked on in amazement.

In that moment, I understood Gideon. I was the unlikely candidate, shaking in fear, yet God saw something in me that I couldn’t see in myself. Just as the angel called Gideon “mighty man of valor” while he cowered in a winepress, God sees the warrior in us even when we feel most inadequate.

Gideon’s response reveals his mindset: doubt, questions, and complaints about God’s apparent absence. “If the Lord is with us, why has all this happened to us?” he asked. Sound familiar? We often get stuck asking “why” when God wants to move us to “what”—what He’s calling us to do next.

Despite Gideon’s protests about being from the weakest clan and the least in his family, God’s response was simple and powerful: “Surely I will be with you.” This phrase—”I will be with you”—might be the most powerful promise we can cling to. As the psalmist wrote, “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me.”

God’s Unconventional Strategy

When Gideon finally assembled an army, he gathered 32,000 men. But God said it was too many. After allowing the fearful to leave, 22,000 departed. Then, through an unusual test involving how the men drank water, God whittled the army down to just 300 men—less than 1% of the original force.

Why would God do this? Because when we rely on our own strength and resources, we get the glory. But when God uses the small, the broken, and the unlikely, everyone knows it had to be divine intervention.

God equipped these 300 men not with swords and shields, but with trumpets, empty jars, and torches. Hardly conventional weapons of war, yet they contained profound spiritual symbolism that would later be echoed by the apostle Paul.

Three Symbols of Spiritual Warfare

The Trumpet represents proclamation. Every time we speak the name of Jesus, we’re wielding the most powerful trumpet imaginable. Our testimony, our witness, our proclamation of Christ’s lordship—these are weapons that confuse and defeat the enemy.

The Jar symbolizes brokenness. Just as the men had to break their jars to reveal the light within, God must break us to use us effectively. Like bread broken to feed thousands, our brokenness becomes the means through which God’s power flows.

The Torch represents God’s glory. Hidden within the clay jars until the moment of revelation, the light points to the glory of God shining through fragile human vessels.

Centuries later, Paul would write in 2 Corinthians 4:5-7 about how we carry this treasure in jars of clay, making it clear that the power comes from God, not ourselves. Gideon lived this truth before Paul wrote it.

The Power of Unified Minority

Here’s a crucial principle: a unified minority always confuses the enemy. Satan thrives on division, schisms, and clicks within the church. But when a small group of people agrees together in the Lord, amazing things happen.

Those 300 men, following Gideon’s lead, surrounded the enemy camp. At the signal, they blew their trumpets, broke their jars, and revealed their torches, shouting “The sword of the Lord and of Gideon!” The resulting confusion caused the Midianite army to turn on itself.

Your Warrior Calling

What does this mean for us today? First, recognize that God sees the warrior in you, regardless of how inadequate you feel. You might be hiding in your own version of a winepress, but God is calling you a “mighty man [or woman] of valor.”

Second, remember that Jesus is with you. This simple truth can transform any situation. You may have lost your job, but Jesus is with you. You may be facing illness, but Jesus is with you. You don’t need anything else beyond this assurance.

Third, be willing to let God break you. Our brokenness isn’t something to hide from—it’s the very thing God uses to shine His light through us to a dark world.

Finally, don’t be overwhelmed by the size of the opposition. God doesn’t need an army of thousands when He has a few faithful people willing to follow His unconventional methods.

The same God who gave Gideon victory with 300 men and clay pots is ready to work through you today. The question isn’t whether you’re qualified—it’s whether you’re willing to let the warrior within step forward in faith, knowing that Jesus is with you.

Your winepress moment might just be the beginning of your greatest victory.

I have a confession: I have the attention span of a caffeinated squirrel. And when it comes to prayer, my mind tends to hop from branch to branch faster than you can say “Hey Siri.” I’m guessing I’m not the only one? If your prayer life sometimes feels like trying to meditate in the middle of a carnival, you’re in good company.

Over years of spiritual trial and error (mostly error), I’ve experienced five major blockades that keep me from connecting with God and discovered some practical hacks that have helped me overcome my distracted mind.

The 5 Blockades to Prayer (Or: Why My Prayer Time Could Look Like a Three-Ring Circus if I’m Not Careful)

1. Distraction and Busyness

Meanwhile, I’m trying to have a heart-to-heart with the Creator of the universe. Good luck with that, right? When my mind is racing through notifications, deadlines, and responsibilities, meaningful conversation with God feels nearly impossible. 

“Be still, and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10)

Apparently, God knew about our distraction problems long before smartphones. Being still is practically a superpower these days.

2. Guilt and Unworthiness

The moment—and I mean the exact moment—I enter my prayer time, a highlight reel of my failures starts playing in my head. It’s like my brain says, “Oh, you want to talk to your all-seeing Savior? Let’s first review all the reasons you’re not worthy!” This sense of unworthiness muffles my voice faster than a thick blanket.

“Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.” (Hebrews 4:16)

The enemy wants me feeling too ashamed to pray because he knows that shame keeps me out of the throne room. As long as I feel unworthy, I’ll never boldly approach God.

3. Unanswered Prayers and Disappointment

I’ve been praying for some things for so long that I’m pretty sure my prayers have frequent flyer miles. When years pass without the answer I want, it’s tempting to think God isn’t listening, doesn’t exist, or (bringing us back to blockade #2) I’m just not worthy of an answer.

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the LORD. (Isaiah 55:8)

It’s hard to remember that God isn’t a cosmic vending machine where I insert my quarters of faith and select which blessing I’d like dispensed. That’s just not how He operates.

4. Rigid Expectations About “Correct” Prayer

Sometimes I get so caught up in using the right words, praying at the right time, in the right position, with the right level of emotion that I forget God just wants me to talk to Him. When my ADD collides with my perfectionism, my prayer life is basically doomed.

“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 through wordless groans.” (Romans 8:26)

Thank goodness the Holy Spirit can translate my jumbled thoughts because sometimes even I don’t know what I’m trying to say.

5. Spiritual Dryness and Doubt

There are seasons when my spiritual life feels like crossing the Sahara with a thimble of water. I lose my passion, feel unmoved by things that once broke my heart, and find myself more excited about the new season of my favorite show than about spending time with Jesus.

“Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.” (Psalm 42:11)

Even David, a man after God’s own heart, experienced spiritual dryness. Those desert seasons can drive us further from the throne room if we let them.

20 Prayer Strategies for the Spiritually ADD

Now for the good part—what actually helps! Here are 20 different ideas and approaches that have strengthened my prayer life:

1. Create a Dedicated Prayer Space

I need a place where I can shut out the world and focus on God—a clean canvas for prayer. Nothing fancy, just a space that signals to my brain: “It’s God time now.”

“But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen.” (Matthew 6:6)

2. Start a Spiritual Journal

For the past five years, I’ve been writing down my prayers. It keeps my squirrel mind focused when I’m physically involved in the process. Plus, I can search back through old prayers and see how God has been working (which is great for those doubtful seasons).

“Write down the revelation and make it plain on tablets.” (Habakkuk 2:2)

3. Practice Silence Before and After Prayer

Turns out, God wasn’t in the earthquake or fire for Elijah—He was in the “still small voice.” Finding silence takes effort in our noise-polluted world, but it’s worth it.

“After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper.” (1 Kings 19:12)

4. Use a Prayer Calendar

Strategic prayer helps when I feel spiritually lost. Having different people and concerns assigned to different days gives my prayer life structure and keeps me from forgetting important people and needs.

“I urge, then, first of all, that petitions, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for all people.” (1 Timothy 2:1)

5. Incorporate Physical Movement

One of my favorite prayer times is walking through my neighborhood. Something about moving my body helps my mind stay engaged in prayer. I’m less likely to fall asleep praying when I’m vertical and in motion!

“I will praise you as long as I live, and in your name I will lift up my hands.” (Psalm 63:4)

6. Explore Ancient Prayer Traditions

Lectio Divina, Ignatian Examen, or praying the hours—these aren’t New Age practices; they’re ancient Christian traditions. They provide a roadmap for prayer when I can’t find my own way.

“Stand at the crossroads and look; ask for the ancient paths, ask where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls.” (Jeremiah 6:16)

7. Join a Prayer Group

Having at least one other person to pray with keeps me accountable. If you don’t have that person, your mission is to find them!

“For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them.” (Matthew 18:20)

8. Pray Through Scripture

I find it nearly impossible to pray meaningfully without the Bible. Scripture provides guardrails for my prayers so I don’t end up in the ditch with selfish or misguided requests.

“Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light on my path.” (Psalm 119:105)

9. Use Technology for Prayer Reminders

My phone might be a distraction, but it can also be a tool. I set prayer reminders throughout my day to pause and refocus on God.

“Pray continually.” (1 Thessalonians 5:17)

10. Try Fasting

Some of my most powerful spiritual moments have come during times of fasting—whether from food, media, or other comforts. There’s something about denying yourself that creates space for God to work.

“When you fast, do not look somber as the hypocrites do.” (Matthew 6:16)

11. Use Guided Prayers

When I can’t find my own words, I borrow someone else’s! YouTube has countless guided prayer videos, and devotional books like “Prayers That Avail Much” provide excellent scriptural frameworks.

“In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for…” (Romans 8:26)

12. Incorporate Music

Music prepares my heart for prayer like nothing else. Sometimes singing is my prayer when I can’t find the right words.

“Speak to one another with psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit. Sing and make music from your heart to the Lord.” (Ephesians 5:19)

13. Practice Gratitude Prayers

I try to start every prayer time by thanking God—even for small things. Like Brother Lawrence scrambling eggs “to the glory of God,” gratitude transforms mundane moments into sacred ones.

“Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” (1 Thessalonians 5:18)

14. Use Visual Aids

Great religious art, nature photographs, or even a simple cross can focus my wandering mind during prayer. I have a cross that my son, Isaac, gave me a few years ago. It sits on my prayer table and has different names of Jesus on it. Often as I begin I thank God for each of the names carved on it.

“I lift up my eyes to the mountains—where does my help come from? My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth.” (Psalm 121:1-2)

15. Pray Out Loud

With my ADD and dyslexia, praying out loud is practically essential. It reminds my brain what I’m doing and keeps me from mentally wandering off to my grocery list. Corrie ten Boom, a Holocaust survivor and Christian missionary, often spoke about the importance of praying aloud.

When Darlene and I were first married, we lived in a broken-down fourplex with paper thin walls. Our apartment’s closet was located sharing a wall with another single seminary student. I can’t remember his name. It’s been a minute since 1985, but I remember his prayers! It inspired me to make my quiet times not so quiet. Speak those prayers! Send them out audibly. For me, praying aloud is a way to get my mind engaged. It reminds me that I am speaking to someOne rather just thinking about some thing.

“My mouth will speak in praise of the LORD.” (Psalm 145:21)

16. Learn Prayers from Different Christian Traditions

Whether it’s Church of God, Lutheran, or Episcopal prayers, exploring how other Christians talk to Jesus expands my prayer vocabulary. We might differ on theological details, but we can learn from each other’s conversations with God.

“There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to one hope when you were called; one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all.” (Ephesians 4:4-6)

17. Keep Prayer Consistent

Building prayer into my daily routines—walking, eating, commuting, waking up, going to sleep—helps it become a habit rather than an occasional event.

“Evening, morning and noon I cry out in distress, and he hears my voice.” (Psalm 55:17)

18. Engage in Intercessory Prayer

Praying for others’ needs—my family, friends, church, ministers, missionaries, and the spiritually lost—takes the focus off my problems and reminds me I’m part of something bigger.

“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 Lord’s people.” (Ephesians 6:18)

19. Experiment with Different Times of Day

If you’re not a morning person, try praying at 5am. If you’re not a night owl, set your alarm for midnight and pray for those on the other side of the world. You might discover when your spirit is most attuned to God’s voice. I have a friend who says God speaks to him by waking him up at 3 AM. Usually, if I am awakened at 3 AM, it’s my bladder, but I’ve started listening during my pilgrimage to the bathroom and Oh My! I, too sensed a message from God about aspects of my life.

“Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed.” (Mark 1:35)

20. Practice Breath Prayers

When all else fails, I fall back on the ancient Jesus Prayer: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy.” Aligning simple phrases with my breathing rhythm helps me pray when I’m spiritually dry.

“The LORD is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth.” (Psalm 145:18)

The Bottom Line

None of these practices are about perfection. Like any relationship, our connection with God deepens when we give it regular attention, honesty, and a willingness to both speak and listen. Prayer is the most important thing we’ll ever do. It’s how we access God’s power for God-sized things. Every time I’ve tried to navigate life without prayer, I’ve face-planted spectacularly (trust me, I’ve collected quite a few spiritual bruises along the way). So my constant prayer is simply for more prayer. I want to find new ways to connect with God because He’s waiting for me to stop scrolling, stop worrying, and stop listening to the noise of the world long enough to enter into divine conversation. It truly is the road less traveled, but it’s the only road where the real adventure begins.

I’m still working on my prayer life, and I hope you are too. I’m curious. What prayer hacks have worked for you? I’d love to hear them in the comments below!

We have more ways to hear God’s Word than any generation before us. Me? I have three Bible apps, several audio bibles, and e-bibles on my phone. That phone also sends me a chime and a verse every morning at 6:00. I have a great church family with access to daily resources, great Sunday worship and a Sunday School class.

Hearing the word?
No problem.

I can nail that every day and twice on Sunday. But then James reminds me, “But be doers of the word and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves.” I shudder a bit when I read James 1:22. Being a veracious hearer of the word but not a doer of the word is utter craziness, but I’m so good at the “hearing of the word” part! It’s my jam. But doing the word trips me up every day. Now that I’m in my 60’s, you’d think I would have arrived. I haven’t. The difficulty is in the doing.

What is Easy?

It’s so much easier to label than to love.
It’s so much easier to be entertained than to be involved.
It’s so much easier to hoard than give.
It’s so much easier to fear than to have faith.

It’s so much easier to win the internet with half truths, mocking memes, and snarky comments than it is to step into the middle of another real person’s trauma and offer grace through our acts of Christian charity and mercy. We often build walls to keep us away from the people He called us to love and reach.

What is Difficult?

Our words are deadly serious: “But I say to you that for every idle word men may speak, they will give account of it in the day of judgment. For by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned.” (Jesus Christ, Matthew 12:36)

This is a difficult saying that I have to remember every. single. day.

Because we don’t have much time, it’s important that we become acutely aware of our spiritual illnesses and give them up quickly. We should be throwing off the chains of dead religion with hilarity and abandon so that we can enter into the narrow, eye-of-the-needle Gospel.

What is Impossible?

Like the flabbergasted disciples said after another of Jesus’ revolutionary challenges, “Then how can
anyone be saved?” I completely relate to their astonishment. But how amazing would it be if we all were a different kind of crazy! For instance, when Jesus said, “love your enemies,” what if we actually loved everybody–even our enemies, to the extent that our enemies would actually look at us and say, “Wow, those crazy people love me!” What if we listened to people like Jesus listened to them instead of feeling like we had to win debates and put people in our own neat little categories? Our magnificent obsession would be to see how much time, money and encouragement we could give away. We would be more compelled to “go” than we’d be to “stay.” We’d seek to serve more than to be entertained. Our heroes wouldn’t be found in the Marvel universe, but missionaries in mud huts and rice fields half a world away. We’d have the audacity to believe that all things are possible. And when we have that kind of faith, they absolutely are.

What about you?

Do you long to see your ideological villains embarrassed and humiliated? Do you enjoy the rhetorical violence of politics? Do you love it when you get the applause or become the preferred? Do you relish the time you spend on the pews of your amen corners? Are you constantly designing your argument or apologetic strategy before listening, really listening to people?

If you read the Word and stop there, you are safe, at least for a few years. If you obey the Word, you are a revolutionary. Every revolution begins in the soul. Revolutions are dangerous, unpopular, and messy but in 10,000 years from now, you will have no regrets.

Recently, we’ve seen God’s word questioned, defiled, glorified, and deified. It’s all caused me to really think through what the Word of God means to me. God’s word is peace to me, but God’s word also disturbs the peace in my life. That’s right, it disturbs the peace. It causes me to see the storms. It’s constantly stirring me as batter in bowl- It thickens me.

It tells the whole story.  There are lots of things that I would have censored out, but God chose to tell the truth.  To record anger so great that it wishes for the death of infants. It shows heroes with flaws. You won’t find a Clark Kent type in this book other than Christ- who was the Word. Men and women fail and then succeed. Or they succeed and then fail. It’s always a combination of both except for Enoch and he got a hall pass before the bell rang.

The Christians I’m around today are on a quest of defending the Word of God against heretics. Nothing new to the church… But as Spurgeon once said, “The Word of God is like a lion. You don’t have to defend it; you just have to let it out of the cage.” (How I wished I would have thought of that metaphor! Please forgive the writer envy, Sweet Jesus.) 

Theologians wield the Word of God as a theological litmus test to keep out people they don’t like. We find our favorite parts, parts that fit our general worldview and we make people sign off on it. Others choose to make the Bible a graven image, worshiping it more than God himself. Putting God, the 20lb version on the communion table- never read but ain’t it big.

As I read the Acts of the Apostles- the major formula of the Holy Spirit is this: The Holy Spirit doesn’t have any formulas. Meanwhile the Acts of the American Church is that we are glitzed out, overfed and underachieving. We are focused on the power of the company (church inc.) rather than the Company of His Power.

To tell you the truth the thing I love about God’s word is this: It’s a director’s cut of the Good News. No deleted scenes. No formulaic ending, no apologies, and no edits. It’s the light unto my path. It’s a scary book when you get right down to it because it calls for radical love- it propels us to snatch people out of the leper colony and the Bethesda’s pool of self-help and holistic healing. It leaves the servant work to me. It warns me to avoid debt and riches- both have the potential to damn me. And it dares me to believe in something from nothing, life from death, and beginning from ending.

You can’t deconstruct the Bible, yea and verily, it is deconstructing you.

The Bible is Anti-Religion. It doesn’t show God as a “tip toe through the tulips” Creator. He’s a roaring Lion and He dares you to battle- note that His battle is always His. He is not looking for our help. He is inviting us to adventure- so great and unpredictable that even as we gasp our final breath, we look forward to the next page-turning chapter of the swashbuckling thriller. It is not stayed; it is not a book of administration and order. It’s a living, progressive organism of divine transformation. And again, I say–It’s against religion. (And most will never get their brain around that truth. I pray I will.) The Bible is about dead men walking. It’s about surrendering- holding our hands to Heaven and watching our God, like an angry parent witnessing a bully torment his little girl- knock the snot out him and dare him to pull that stunt again. Therefore, one must examine himself to be sure he is not a bully.

Some Christians use the Bible as lawyers use precedent the argue their case citing certain past cases in God’s Word as their loophole and syllogism. Usually, their case has more to do with their personal power than it has to do with the Great Commission or the Greatest Commandment. Some of these people would rather see a neighborhood go to hell than have the wrong type of person (sex, race, political faction) preach in the neighborhood. And because of this they become the practicing liberals in the Body. I’m convinced that the Bible needs more lovers than apologists, more incarnations than discernment rangers.

I must spend more time reading the Word of God than the time I spend listening to people talk about the Word of God. I must spend more time letting the Word teach me through the Holy Spirit. It’s trusting God’s promise that the Word will accomplish what it set out to do. And yes, indeed, certainly, and verily I must DO the Word of God every day.

I look forward to spending more time in God’s Word- when I do, it’s never wasted time.

Two life altering truths:

1. God is speaking.
2. You have one day fewer to listen than you had yesterday.

 I rarely ever had those kinds of thoughts in my twenties and thirties, but now truths recur often. Have I listened to God? Have I really lived my life to the fullest? Have I heard God’s voice?

The old adage is true: Our life is God’s gift to us. What we do with it is our gift to God. 

Jesus came to bring us rest if we will only stop long enough to listen and to let Him speak. This is the kind of life Jesus lived out in front of us. He connected with the Father intimately and dynamically.  We, on the other hand, are often too busy doing things for God that we miss entirely the presence of God. 

God really does have something to say to each one of us. I know it like the back of my Bible. I preach it, teach it, encourage others to listen, but if I’m not careful I’ll get so focused my schedule that I don’t slow down enough to hear the Whispers. When I shut down all the white noise and ambiance, God speaks. It’s not always an audible voice, but a Voice just the same. 

Every now and then I’ll experience a feeling of being very small. You’ve probably don’t know what I’m talking about. All around me there are bigger ministries, larger budgets, more talented communicators, and more successful pastors.  (I know you probably never feel that way but may I confess that I do from time to time.) It’s at that moment that I have to refocus on a simple four-word sentence. “Jesus is with me.” I know. It’s a Children’s Sunday School sentence but it’s still such a gigantic sentence. “Jesus is with me.”

Jesus is with me and He has something He wants to say to me—not just through me. It’s not enough for us to believe that He exists and has something to say to me personally. . It would be a shame for us to finally arrive in Heaven and not recognize the voice of God. In order to hear Him, I must remember to adjust my spiritual sensors. It took me a while to grow out of the belief that He’s not a manipulator of people and I don’t have to be one either. We can’t control our people. That’s the way God made them: UNCONTROLABLE. Sometimes in the past I’ve wanted to but I’ve gotten over it. These sheep can’t be controlled, but they can be led. The basics of listening must overcome the relentless pressures that we as worship leaders and pastors face. Let me encourage you to try the following things that will lead to a heightened sensitivity to hear God’s voice

• Today– I’ll live a life of urgency and celebration. The brooding life is not holy. To many it might look holy but a grave-digger and party pooper do not a Kingdom make!
• Today– I’ll simplify to remove distractions. Our inability to hear God is directly linked to the static of modern life. It’s perhaps the greatest plague of the church. We are uncomfortable with silence. The things we place before our eyes, the multitude of messages we receive on a daily basis, even the food that we eat potentially blocks our reception of God’s voice. We often expel the voice of God through texts, emails, Facebook walls, radio, TV, and music.
• Today– I’ll meditate on Holy Scripture. Don’t just read it.  Become preoccupied with it! Stuff your self full of holy words and you’ll see it bring a blessing of peace over your life because your eyes and ears are open to His Word. 
• Stop all self-promotion campaigns. We all involved in a throne battle. Who will you place on the throne of your life.  To which king will you bow down?
• Today I’ll follow God’s heart and not my own. Keep in mind what God thinks of your heart:  It is deceitful. Songs, movies and pop culture have urged us to follow our heart. Please don’t. It’s a dead end proposition. Discover the heart of God and follow His.
• Today I’ll clarify boundaries in my personal world. The ability to hear God is directly related to our ability to say no to lots of things in your life- even a few good things. We understand that we are not capable of doing everything for everybody. Your closest friends will not understand it. Some will be disappointed in you and others will think you are a prude, but celebrate your boundaries. If you understand the purpose you have been created to achieve, saying NO (sometimes in bold and all caps) is not just recommended, it is required. 
• Today I’ll seek discernment regarding your day. Every morning, ask for wisdom and courage.  You need them both in order to discern the voice of Holy God and to do whatever He tells you to do. 
• Today I won’t tolerate negativity. If you find yourself surrounded by negative, whiney, sarcastic people, consider the architecture of you life and think about doing a little renovation. 
• Today I’ll have faith in the process. St. John of the Cross, an early church father coined the term: the dark midnight of the soul. “The journey in Faith–the midnight of the soul when the light has all faded away and darkness has completely descended.” He concludes that many Christ followers don’t wish to endure the power of pain and tragedy that is necessary to pass through before the light shines again.  I would argue that an overriding theme of the Bible is that suffering is not simply to be experienced but celebrated. It produces a deeper intimacy with God.

I hope that today is enough to lead you into a conversation with the Divine. He speaks softly and He speaks in present tense. 

About a month ago I took a swing at the diet phenomenon of intermittent fasting. If you’re not familiar with it, it’s the practice of going 16 hours without eating anything. I’d start at around 9 pm and eat precisely 1 pm. It works, but the people who know me best have encouraged me to give it up. I’ve lost weight but it’s best not to interact with me around noon. My personality changes and I say things that are just plain out of character and none of them nice. My hangryness kicks in. I have little patience for anything or anyone. They would much prefer the slightly overweight, jolly, patient, kind person that I am on a full stomach than the skinny, twitchy, crass, impatient, grumpy guy that watches the clock like an astronaut, waiting to blast off toward any loaded platter of complex carbohydrates at 1PM. I have come to the sober realization that I am a broken man with an incredible aptitude for pizza. 

12:30 PM is about the time when coworkers scatter to distant cubicals and watercoolers far from my workstation.  Yes, they know. I try to avoid making any important decisions from noon to 1pm. Decision making on an empty stomach is dangerous. Just ask Esau. I think he invented intermittent fasting and paid a high price for it. After a morning of hunting on an empty stomach he caught the scent of Jacob’s stew and he made a stupid decision: 

He said to Jacob, “Let me eat some of that red stuff, because I’m exhausted.” That is why he was also named Edom. (Genesis 25:30 CSB). 

It doesn’t sound he knew what the dish was!  “Give that uh…. RED STUFF!” And on top of that, he got a nickname: Edom, meaning “red.”  When you get a nickname for something you ate, it’s always bad.  If I were Esau, the scripture might have read: “’I’m starving! Let me have some of those crunchy things!’ That is why they called him, ‘Doritos’.”

It’s just not safe for me to continue intermittent fasting. I’ll stick to fasting for spiritual growth, not weight loss. It’s just not worth it. Appetites are a part of life but just think of all the people who made bad choices because they let their appetites get the best of them. Take it from a recovering sinner, when you’re hungry for food, power, sex, or notoriety, you tend to make stupid choices. You might even sell your birthright. 

As I read the Gospel, there’s something that stands out in so many narratives and backstories. Jesus loves desperate people. Whether it’s the pleading father, the paralyzed man whose friends tore the roof off a house, or the sufferings of the entire nation of Israel, desperate people always get His attention.

I can remember times when I was so preoccupied with my work, the game, or a task, that my five-year-old son would grab my face with both his hands to assure I was listening. That’s just how absurdly one-track minded I can get. But that was never the case with Jesus. Nobody had to grab Him by the face. The moment the tassels of his prayer garment were touched, He felt her faith connect with His sufficiency. There is absolute power in the faith of a desperate person.

I’ve spent lots of time trying not to appear desperate, while knowing the deep chasm of my own insufficiency. And there is power in desperation. It’s clumsy at times. When I’m desperate, there’s no telling what might come out of my mouth. My prayers are fragmented. Sometimes all I can pray is the oldest one: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God have mercy on me.” In fact, that’s how I start every morning. It centers me on the truth that I have to cry out for mercy. Every morning. Every evening. And a baker’s dozen times a day. “Lord Jesus, Son of God have mercy.” I’m sure there are those who don’t need his mercy as much as I do, but it’s my broken bread and butter.

It brings me back to the woman reaching for the tassels of Jesus. (Luke 8, Mark 5)

A desperate, sick, bankrupt woman fights her way through the crowd to touch Jesus’ cloak. In Mark, we read that she spent everything she had on doctors but things only got worse. I have been there. It’s when you throw money at a problem and the problem’s appetite for money only grows. No one wants “money pit” problems. They’ll bring you to the end of yourself. Who wants that? There comes a time when you aren’t worried about how humiliating you look. You just lay yourself out there in front of God and everybody because you don’t care what anybody thinks. “In front of” is none of your concern.

As soon as she made contact with Him, He knew it and focused all his attention on her. In one moment, we can agree on a number of things about Jesus. He’s never too late, He’s never too busy, and He’s never too burdened to step into the pain of our desperation. Sometimes, He has to bring us into desperation in order for us to diligently seek Him. That’s the whole point of this life and yet we are often too consumed with the crowd to really stop and focus on our ultimate and preeminent King. That’s too bad, because when it comes down to it, every solution for brokenness, our pain and neediness is no more than a touch away.

Lord Jesus, Son of God have mercy. I have so often wanted a self-instigated salvation without the mess and grit of desperation. There is only one hero in my story. Have mercy in my desperation, so that I can more fully revel in your rescue.

When I think I’ve got it bad, I remember Paul of Tarsus. I’ve had my opportunities to complain but Paul always had it worse than me. Most theologians and historians agree that He was probably on the upper crust of the economic scale in the first century, but then there was that Damascus road experience, when he met Jesus. Sounds great, but I’m sure it wasn’t all that thrilling that the first thing Paul ever heard from the Son of God would be, “Paul, why are you persecuting me?” It was a reality check. He’d spent his life as a religious zealot, only to find out that he was on the wrong team. And then he was blinded. He must have thought, now I know the truth but how do I find my stuff?

They charted his travels in the maps section of almost every Bible I own, but the maps are a reminder that Siri wasn’t available back then and he traveled by foot, or beast of burden or by ship. But the ship sank.  That’s bad. He survived. That’s good! But he got bit by a viper. That’s bad. But he miraculously survived. That’s good!

He rode the roller coaster of a church planter like a cowboy on the back of a two-ton bronco. He was done wrong by a lot of friends, but he kept going. No doubt he was on Jerusalem’s 10 most wanted list and escaped out of a window in a basket, but he kept on going. He was beaten with rods three times, whipped 40 times minus one, five times. (I did the math on that one: 145 lashes!) But he kept on going. He was left for dead, but like a cast member of a zombie apocalypse he got up and kept going. He sang in jails, wrote 28% of the New Testament, caused a ruckus in a market, and lulled a guy to sleep during one of his lectures, and somehow the guy fell out of a window, died, was resuscitated and Paul kept on going. He was the Hebrew version of the Energizer bunny. Oy vey!

Oh, and he made tents as a side-hustle. Just a little detail…

Onesiphorus, a contemporary of his day, described him as short, bow-legged, and bald, with a slightly hooked nose and a unibrow!  Is there any wonder he was single? He had a dual citizenship, but most of the time, he was a citizen of the road. His story falls into the category of riches to rags. He didn’t leave a lot of material wealth when his head was placed on the block, but I can hear him now as the Roman executioner led him to the place of his death, still making conversation: “Did I ever tell you this story? I was a rich, religious scholar. I had everything going for me. I was the cat’s pajamas. Little did I know something better was in store. A crazy thing happened on the way to Damascus.”

(Based on Amos 5:18-24)

Woe and pity to the theological geniuses! The ones that gaze upon the charts of dispensational prophecy. The ones that spend their days arguing their religious apologetics on social media without lifting a finger to help strugglers.  Woe to you who parrot political arguments and lust for salacious scandals. Why do you crave His coming and yet fail Him with your heart?

For you it will be darkness. Is this really what you want? You’ll look as if you’ve seen a marauding bear or a hissing snake. What did you expect? Light? You feed the darkness.

I hate your worship. I find no truth in your frowns and fury. You bore me with your relevance and clever talk.  You infuriate me with your boredom and tradition. Likewise, to those who think the frenetic pounding worship with lights and fog will get my attention, it has. But not the kind of attention you would desire. Away with the electric guitars and drums!  And away with your organs and litanies! Away with your assumption that your performance will be counted as righteousness. Send all this madness away and come to Me with justice.

Regard the needs of hungry

Contend for the health of the poor.

When you run to them you are running to me.

Everything else is a pointless charade and a foolish liturgy.

Instead let justice roll like the currents of a mighty stream.

Seek the wanderers in darkness on the edge of town and bring them into Light.

I will meet you in Mercyland.

I grew up under the theology of scarcity. It centered around the hear-tell rumours that I didn’t have what it took to be a “really good” Christian. There were those repetitive voices outside and inside my head that said, “try harder, do more, get better.”  I gazed up at the impossible bar and counted myself out. My inadequacy labeled me, before I stepped on the scales.

My past haunted me
My scars mocked me.
My failures demoralized me,
My shame poisoned me.

I never would admit it, but I was certain that no one was as big of a poser as I was. I was weak and the more I tried to fix myself the more self-hatespeech would roll around in my head. And then one day I really did let go.

I raised a white flag and surrendered my efforts, my self-hope, self-punishment, and self-focus. I. JUST. LET. GO.

Then I discovered that the whole point of the gospel is that God is enough.

I just have to love him for being enough. It’s always been about God’s total sufficiency. What does it take to be held in the love of God? It takes a person willing to be still. This is the skill I need before everything else– to be still.  He is so much stronger than I have acted like He was.

But I am learning that He is more than enough to carry a struggler. It’s what He does. It’s His specialty and it’s His passion.  He’s not wringing his hands over your failures. He is ready to use each one to tell a story of grace and mercy.

It’s the same story that Mephibosheth experienced 2 Samuel 9. It’s an unfortunate name. It’s hard to say and spell so I call him Phiby. Phiby was the physically disabled grandson of a dead, vengeful King named Saul. When summoned, in his self-marinating humiliation he asked, “What does the King want with a dog like me.” He had nothing to offer the present king. But the king sought him out and he was seated at the kings table out of mysterious grace.

King David said to Phiby:

Don’t be afraid, for I will surely show you kindness for the sake of your father Jonathan. I will restore to you all the land that belonged to your grandfather Saul, and you will always eat at my table. 2 Samuel 9:7 (NIV)

In the same way God the Father says to us, “I will show you kindness for the sake of my Son Jesus.”

John the Beloved put it this way:  Consider the incredible love that the Father has shown us in allowing us to be called “children of God”—and that is not just what we are called, but what we are.  1 John 3:1 (Phillips Translation)

Throughout my days of striving to be acceptable, walking with a spiritual limp, striving to find a place, there is a Good Father who has already accepted me, not as a good servant but a beloved son. And that is good enough for me. In fact, He is more than enough.

I’ve seen him among the children and anyone who loves kids like he does, can be trusted. He is merciful to those who need mercy and He is always just. He willing to sacrifice everything for you and He never sleeps.

He is a doctor who can diagnose an illness before the symptoms appear.

He is a baker and when you go to his house there is always the wonderful smell of bread.
But more than anything…. He is a peacemaker.
He is available to you any time day or night.
He fights for the helpless
He makes time for the lonely
He is ready to step between you and your enemies
When you are befuddled confused and indecisive, He has a plan
When the walls are closing in, His doors will open wide.
He listens when no one else is around to hear you.
He consoles you when there are no arms to embrace you.
He weeps with you when all others curse at you
He is redeemer of your yesterdays and foreseer of your tomorrows.
He been to hell and back and He is still standing strong.
When others doubt you, He says, “you can do it.”
When no one knows you, He calls you by name
When few are truthful He will tell it to you straight.
He has set you apart and pulled you together
He lifts you up and He settles you down.
He’s not insecure, detached or ruthless.
All His plans are above board.
He’s written them all down in a book for you.
And nothing catches Him by surprise.
Many have tried to imitate him
And even more have tried to eliminate Him
But no one can intimidate Him
He is independent and self-sustaining and yet He longs for your love.
He could turn the world on its end and yet he has loved you from the beginning.
And He has invited you to come to His table.