Lucas almost speaks. He also almost prays.
I learnt something about prayer by watching him
plead with me to take him for a walk. Well not plead, as in words, but as close
as a dog can get to saying it, best describes what Lucas was doing.
His eyes, his mannerisms, his excited little dance in anticipation of a
walk, all egged me on, but his timing was a bit off. I couldn’t yet, but
promised to take him later.
The problem is I could no more talk to him than he could talk to me.
I so needed him to wait and to rest assured that I would fulfill my
commitment, but he could not understand me and didn’t get the memo.
He also wanted me to understand, and actually he did better than me. My
message to him was abstract, but his to me was as clear as day.
Well, to delay things I did what any sane person would do. I shut him
out and left it at that.
Fine, he accepted that and slept it off, but he would not forget his
need. As soon as I reappeared, the pleading resumed and he did everything short
of putting the leash into my hand to lead me out onto the streets. He was going
to have his walk.
Fine, I had every plan to walk him and by then the time was right, so I
went and got his leash. He danced again. Though a big dog, his dance was quite
coordinated. It was like watching a rugby player in “so you think you can dance”.
We bundled him into the car and my son drove us up to a drop off point a
few miles away – and, well the rest is history. Lucas had his walk.
Was that praying? Well of course it is. We also call it prayer when say
a condemned man pleads to a king. It was the most basic expression of prayer –
and it worked.
In a sense the language barrier between God and us is as real. It is not
English to English. It’s more about simple pleading, use of body language and
praying in our own language, which does not seem to directly connect with God’s
language.
His language is as mine was to the dog, more suggestive, subtle, nuances
that give hope but rarely spell out anything that we can perfectly understand.
Yet, in a sense my meaning was clear enough. Whether the dog had my
words or not, I did enough to indicate that I was not ready for a walk. I can’t
vouch for him hearing my promise to take him later though. I just had to say
that more to myself and live up to it.
Perhaps we don’t believe we are heard, because we don’t see the response
in the time and substance that we expect.
As such, we turn a prayer into a nag and keep pushing, dancing,
pleading, whatever it takes, to get our way, which often puts us in his way and
shuts the door.
He, on the other hand, faces the reality that no matter how unsubtle He
says it, we won’t take no for an answer and will keep pushing regardless. That
obliges Him to apply His own integrity and promise Himself to do what is needed
when the time is right.
In that sense, He knows what is best for us and will not elaborate,
because no elaboration will change our reality. We want it all and we want it
now.
That sets up frustrations that erode our faith and lead to despair,
which is a contradiction, because it takes faith to pray at all, and it takes
faith to wait for His faithful reply.
So maybe faith needs redefining. Faith that expects an immediate answer
and turns away when that doesn’t happen, is probably not faith at all, but a demand.
I have seen the frustrations of the poor as they demand more, but with
an ineffectual voice that reduces them to a noisome rabble. Demonstration
politics may have a place and achieve some things, but a people led by a voice
of reason will achieve far more, for longer.
That which believes that God is and that He will reward those diligently
seek Him, is faith indeed.
That implies a value for all that God is – as faithful,
true, pure of heart, gracious and more. If we don’t believe that, we have no
starting point and our voice will be weak.
Faith-based prayer is a journey to mutual understanding, which demand-based
prayer never reaches. Faith-based prayer is deep calling to deep, the heart of the
knowing engaging the known, petitioning His throne as heirs, not as a hapless
rabble.
There is a trust, a sense of knowing that is developing between Lucas
and me, because he is starting to understand my ways and I am getting to
understand him. He yields to me as the hand that feeds Him and can do what He
cannot do, but it’s a yield of love, not fear.
He actually thrives on obedience training and I derive great pleasure
from teaching him things for he is so teachable. Thus, I have no doubt that,
even though our vernacular is as far removed as would be a Martian from homo
sapiens, but we are connecting anyway.
It reminds me of a discussion I had with an Italian, outside Rome. He
had not a word of English, I had no Italian, but we could both draw pictures
and that language is universal. We made friends, we conveyed meaning and grew
in understanding. Great fun.
Does God have to be a stranger? No. Faith can engage Him in an
ever-deepening conversation that transcends symbols, gestures, emotions and
other superficial messages.
And when that happens, we will walk with God …
(c) Peter Missing: bethelstone@gmail.com
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