Praying; When the Rain Comes Down

I do not know much about God and prayer, but I have come to believe, over the past twenty-five years, that there’s something to be said about keeping prayer simple.

Help. Thanks. Wow.

Anne Lamott – Help. Thanks. Wow. The Three Essential Prayers

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Help.

Thanks.

Wow.

That’s all I’ve got.

Turns out it’s enough.

Anne Lamott happens to be one of my favorites. Eclectic, authentic, raw, and true, she gives it to us straight. Somedays all we’ve got is help, thanks, wow.

It is raining in West Michigan. Raining, not just today, but what seems to be everyday, for a long run of days. The weather forecast hints this will go on for another 7 days or so, perhaps longer. This isn’t a soft, steady kind of rain. It’s a rain that reminds you once God called a man to build an ark. Every few hours the heavens open and water pours out like someone has forgotten to turn off the garden hose. Everyday. I sowed grass seed two weeks ago, I am grateful. We incurred a drought this spring that held potential impact to our West Michigan farmland, I am grateful. The western United States is desperate for rain, I am grateful. But as the water transforms roads into streams and trees are breaking to meet the earth below, I am wondering, just a little.

Low pressure systems combined with upper-level disturbances are resulting in what meteorologists are referring to as “wave after wave” of rain. Wave after wave sounds like a nice day on the shores of our favorite Lake, named after our very own state. Except that’s not exactly the reference.

Low pressure systems combined with upper-level disturbances resulting in wave after soaking wave resonates a bit like my life right now. God is faithful, I am grateful. He turns everything for my good, I am grateful. He’s planted me in this time, place, and circumstances for purpose, I am grateful. But as weariness floods like streams of water and this well planted tree is bending to get her face closer to the ground, I am wondering, just a little.

I work at my morning prayers. Nothing.

I remind myself of who He is, what He’s done, what He’s promised. Nothing.

I mentally conjure up the armor and weapons listed in Ephesians 6. Nothing.

I google my best battle songs to sing along with. Nothing.

Repenting. What all have I done in the last twenty four hours that would leave me this much nothing? Nothing.

I am battle practiced and trained, I know how to do this. Striving. It feels inauthentic, forced, abysmal. Nothing.

It wasn’t that I was any kind of trouble. But “Nothing” triggers a fire of spiritual alarms in this once dead, now alive soul.

I remember those three words titling Anne Lamott’s short book. Help. Thanks. Wow.

Help. Help. Help.

Let the rain come. Let the waves roll. Too weary to battle, He has to show up. He has to fight whatever this is for me, because I am weak and He promised He is strong. I am tired and He promised He never slumbers. My heart can’t feel and He promised He makes it new. I can’t see and He promised He won’t take His eyes from me. I can’t pray and He promised His Holy Spirit prays for me. I am doubting and He promised His grace is sufficient. I am defeated and He promised the battles belong to Him.

I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.

He will. He will. He will.

Help. Help. Help.

Stillness replaces nothing. Relief in saying out loud that I can’t. It seems to be ok. He seems to be ok with it, my inadequacy. He seems to invite it. He seems to hear my “help, help, help”. His Presence rushes in like the rain leaking from the sky, or the tears running down my face.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28)

Let the rain come. Let the waves roll. Let it reform the earth, washing, cleansing, soaking. Let it.

He is strong (Psalm 95:3). He never slumbers (Psalm 121:3-4). He makes hearts new (Ezekiel 36:26). He keeps us as the apple of His eye (Psalm 17:8). His Holy Spirit prays for us (Romans 8:26-27). His grace is sufficient (2 Corinthians 12:9). It is His battle (2 Chronicles 20:17).

He fought for me, again. Pulling me from whatever nothing pit was reserved with my name.

Thanks.

Wow.

But He said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. This is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. Form when I am weak, then I am strong. 

2 Corinthians 12:9-10