Big Red Switch (Chapter 7) (Thursday in the second week of Lent)

PAUSE
As I enter prayer now, I pause to be still; to breathe slowly to recenter my scattered senses upon the presence of God.

(pause)
I pray Psalm 16: 1-2, repeating the words slowly, several times: “Keep me safe, 0 God, I’ve run for dear life to you. I say to God, ‘Be my Lord!’ Without you, nothing makes sense” (MSG).

REFLECT
Bible: How happy are those who know what sorrow means for they will be given courage and comfort! (Matt. 5: 4 PHILLIPS)

Book passage: Sammy and I would not want to go back, of course, to the dark days of brain surgery. But neither would we want to go back to the days before our lives were hijacked by fear. I guess we prefer the people we have become through all these contradictions.

ASK
Ask myself: Can I see any positive ways in which the Holy Spirit might be using my sorrow for good? Are there any signs of Him changing me in some way through these difficult times?

Ask the Lord: Father, if You were to hand me a big rd switch to solve my problems and heal my pain, I’d flick it without hesitation. But in the absence of that switch, please at least make something good out of this mess. Don’t let this ugly situation make me ugly. Give me “beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair” (Isa. 61:3).

YIELD
Our yielding prayer over the next few days is going to be the prayer of Jesus in Gethsemane, which we studied at the start of this devotional. But before praying these famous words, I clench my fists, holding in my left hand my greatest desire (the miracle I need God to do) and in my right hand my deepest dread:

“Abba, Father … everything is possible for you. Take this cup from me.” (Mark 14:36a)

I open my left hand to offer God my deepest desire and to ask for a miracle.

“Yet not my will, but yours be done.” (Luke 22:42)

I open my right hand and, naming my deepest dread, I make the difficult decision to relinquish control.

Amen.