the man in the window: October 2012

Sunday, October 21, 2012

Praying in the Desert

The desert, never been a wanderer there.

The spiritual desert: that place, those times, those situations when circumstances obscure his presence, filled with emptiness, frustration, challenge. We all wander there. We all wander in the desert; we experience those dry places void of the nearness of his presence.

In the desert (at least for this wanderer) there are only two ways to pray.

In the desert I can beg for water. Crying out, hoping against lost hope, that his presence is hidden under the scorching circumstances that exhaust my soul. I can beg, that some how, some way he can be rediscovered again.

In the desert can pray believing his presence isn't obscured. I can believe he is already at work in the desert. I can attest, I can affirm, I can declare that God dwells, no he works, he advances his kingdom, and he fulfills his plans, even in desert. He who formed me in glory for his glory works in the desert, in the dry times, in the challenging circumstances. I can trust that in my desert, HE IS, and that he is at work.

In the desert we can pray two ways: begging or believing!

Listen to the God of the desert.

"See I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?

I AM making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland." Isaiah 43:19

I believe in the God of the Desert!

the man in the window

Bruce D. Rzengota
Norwalk Alliance Church

"I have one passion: it is He, He alone." Count Zinzendorf

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

My Journey in Prayer

I prayed this morning.

Okay that's not so unusual. It's what I prayed. How I prayed.

I've been reading a book challenging me about praying the Forgiver's prayer as a model. So today prayed.

Our Father,

My Father in Heaven

My father, who knows

My every hurt

My every loss

My every pain

My every hope

My every dream

My every disappointment

My every fault

My every failure

My every weakness

My every burden

My every challenge

My every weight

My every fear

My every sin

My Father . . . hallowed by your name.

The privilege of calling him Father, whose name is so holy, whose nature so powerful, whose character glorious, moved to deep worship, to deep stillness in his overshadowing presence.

Prayer wade into the river of his presence, let it wash over you. Let the river flow.