I’m back!

After a seven-week sabbatical, the thing Pam and I missed most was… you! The people of Bethany, our friends and family. Sharing life together.

I really do love being a part of community, and one of the ways I’ve enjoyed doing this is through this little devotional blog. So after seven weeks away, I’ve been looking forward to picking up the pen again and sharing some of what God has been doing in my life.

I’ve also almost caught up on the Through the Bible listening plan. Pam and I fell behind while we were in Europe for three weeks. Well, truth is, I was already backed up well before we left. But as I write this, I’m only two days behind and closing fast.

It feels good to be back in the groove, and especially to be in the New Testament.

To be perfectly frank, I really struggled through the prophets. Judgment on Israel. Judgment on Judah. Judgment on Moab. Judgment on Edom. Judgment on Egypt. Judgment on Babylon. It was more than a little depressing. After all that rebellion, sin and idolatry, I was definitely ready for the New Testament.

Bring on Jesus! We need a Savior!

As I’ve started listening through the Gospels again, something has jumped out at me fresh.

Jesus prays. A lot.

Maybe I’m noticing it more because we’re listening chronologically, and the Gospels often repeat the same events. But it seems like Jesus is always slipping away somewhere to spend time with His Father. Luke seems particularly interested in this part of Jesus’ life:

• Luke 4:42 – “At daybreak, Jesus went out to a solitary place.”
• Luke 5:16 – “But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed.”
• Luke 6:12 – “Jesus went out to a mountainside to pray, and spent the night praying to God.”
• Luke 9:18 – “Once when Jesus was praying in private and his disciples were with him…”
• Luke 9:28–29 – Jesus took Peter, John and James up a mountain to pray.

And then:

• Luke 11:1 – “One day Jesus was praying in a certain place. When he finished, one of his disciples said… ‘Lord, teach us to pray.'”

I find that fascinating. Apparently, the disciples had been watching.

Jesus’ life was shaped by these rhythms of prayer. He regularly stepped away from people, ministry, noise and activity to spend time with His Father. And whatever the disciples saw was attractive.

They wanted in. “Teach us to pray.”

The disciples wanted to experience the same familiar intimacy with God that Jesus had. And I want that too!

I think one of the Enemy’s most successful deceptions has been taking this beautiful gift of prayer—talking with our Father—and somehow turning it into a source of guilt, duty and failure.

Just bring up the topic of prayer among a group of Christians sometime. You can almost hear the air coming out of the balloon. “Yeah… I really ought to pray more.” “I’m not very consistent.” “I know I don’t talk to God like I should.”

I get it. I’ve said those things too.

But isn’t it strange that something God designed to draw us close to Him can so easily become something that makes us want to hide from Him?

By creating a cloud of anxiety and guilt around prayer, along with a vague sense that God must surely be disappointed in us, the Enemy dupes us into avoiding our good Father who delights to hear from His kids.

What a victory for the Enemy.

I think I understand this a little better at this stage of life, because Pam and I are now on the other side of parenting. Our kids are grown, and most of them live out of the area. And I can tell you this: we’ll take a phone call from any one of them just about any time.

Just touching base for five minutes? Wonderful.
Something went wrong and they need help? Call us.
They need advice? We’re honored they asked. (Whether our advice is worth anything is another question.)
They want to talk for an hour? Put on the coffee. We’ll clear the schedule.

We want to experience life with our kids. There’s no greater joy. Their call is never an imposition. We don’t answer the phone and say, “Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to call.”

We’re just glad to hear their voice.

But I also know what it feels like from the other side. I’m still a son myself, and the Benedict side of the family has always been a little communication-challenged.

Life gets busy. Other priorities dominate. Time gets away. And suddenly I realize, Oh my goodness… how long has it been since I called Dad? How long has it been since I stopped in?

Then something strange can happen. The longer it’s been, the harder it becomes to make the call. I’m a terrible son. I should have called sooner. I really need to do better at this. And the guilt over not being in touch actually creates even more distance.

Pam’s family has always been better at this. They’re more inclined to just pick up the phone for any reason—or for no particular reason at all—and share life. Now that Pam’s mom and dad have both gone home to heaven, watching her lose that opportunity has stirred something in me. I want to be more intentional about connecting with my own mom and dad while I still can.

Not because I’m trying to check off some “good son” box. I just want to share life with them.

I think that’s what Jesus’ disciples saw. They watched Jesus slip away to be with His Father—not because He had to put in His prayer time, but because He wanted to be with Dad.

And they said, “Lord, teach us to pray.”

I’d like to learn that too. Not simply how to pray longer or use better words. Not how to become one of those impressive people who can pray for fifteen minutes without repeating themselves. I want prayer to become more natural, like breathing. More honest. More woven into the rhythms of my life. I want to learn to share life with a Father who delights to hear from me.

That’s the heart behind something new we’re beginning at Bethany next Wednesday night. We’re calling it Come Pray With Us. (Original, eh?)

For eight Wednesday evenings during Kids Club, Pam and I, along with our midweek prayer team, are going to learn and practice prayer together—because we don’t have it figured out either.

And I really mean together. This isn’t going to be eight weeks of me telling everyone they need to pray more. I’m pretty sure we already know that.

Instead, we’re going to talk honestly about prayer: what Scripture teaches, what we’ve learned, what has helped us, and even what has frustrated us. We’ll sit around tables and hear from ordinary people who have learned some things along the way. We’ll model different ways of praying. We’ll practice together. And each week we’ll leave with something simple to try on our own.

There’ll be some teaching, some conversation and snacks. And yes, we’re actually going to pray.

My hope is that this will be especially helpful for people who have never felt comfortable at a traditional prayer meeting. Maybe you don’t think you’re very “good” at prayer. Maybe you’re easily distracted or don’t know what to say. Maybe you’ve tried a dozen different approaches and they always fizzle.

You’ll fit right in.

I don’t want these eight weeks to leave us feeling guiltier about prayer. I’d love for us to rediscover prayer as a gift. A conversation. A relationship. A way of sharing life with a Father who is genuinely glad to hear our voice.

Maybe the best place to begin is exactly where the disciples began:

“Lord, teach us to pray.”

Come pray with us.
Wednesdays, October 14–December 9, during Kids Club
No gathering Thanksgiving week.