Prayers are dangerous. Especially the ones where we tell God that we want to be changed forever. When we tell him that we want to grow in new ways, be stretched, be made uncomfortable, we'd better be prepared for the consequences. I wasn't.
While at the onething conference at the International House of Prayer the last couple days of December, I prayed those kinds of prayers. When I had a very trying and emotionally exhausting month, I was struggling to understand why God was challenging me in so many ways. I had an "a-ha" moment today- I am receiving what I asked for.
I don't regret praying those prayers. In fact, looking back, I am so thankful I did. I asked to grow in faith, and was put in positions where I needed some. I asked for deeper trust, and was put in situations where I had to trust God. I asked to grow in discipline and obedience, and was called to tasks where these were required. And now I'm hungry for more faith, trust, and discipline.
Here is an example:
On the roadtrip home from onething, the weather conditions became so bad that our route home had to be altered, and my mother was unable to come get me from the meeting place when it was time because the conditions were so bad. My mom suggested that I call my Dad to pick me up because he lived an hour closer, and conditions were better there. I hesitated to call him because I didn't know if he would have been willing to drive an hour at 6 in the morning to come pick me up. But I called, and he came. We went out to breakfast, and I slept on his couch for a few hours until my mom was safely able to get me. As I was settling in on the couch, I felt like I was supposed to talk to him about something I'd been meaning to bring up for a few years. I was supposed to tell him that despite the pain and confusion that came with his adultery and divorce of my mother, beoynd the anger of him marrying an awful woman and staying married to her for 8 years, and through the rage that I felt when he asked my mother to perform his 5th wedding ceremony- I had forgiven him, and still loved him, and wanted to begin honoring him as my father. On that day, I didn't tell him that. I doubted and let fear overtake me.
A couple weeks ago, as I was talking to one of my best friends, God brought choice to the front of my mind, and revealed to me that I missed the opportunity he had given me. But in his grace, I felt he was sending me home that weekend to have that talk. With a heart of obedience, I drove home. I went to a funeral that Saturday morning with my family, then drove to the Tri-Cities that afternoon to see him.
I walked into my Dad's house equipped with my Bible and journal. We sat down at the kitchen table, and I told him I had something to tell him. I tearfully told him about the ways some of the decisions he made affected me, how God has changed my life and taught me about forgiveness, and healed my heart from the pain that this caused. Becuase of this healing, I was able to fully forgive him, and him about the happiness and purpose I've found in my Lord.
As we were speaking, I could feel our hearts being restored as father and daughter. I began to imagine what this meant for our future, and took joy in the thought of visiting him out of friendship and respect, not obligation. I am now excited to sit down and talk openly about my faith, and hear about his life. I am excited to be a more deeply-connected part of his family. Even with the pain that has to be felt in order for emotional healing to take place, I now know that the restoration that it brings is so much more fulfilling than any guilt or emotion we can hold against someone.
Because of one act of obedience, I can now start to see the gentle, loving, and strong side of my dad that my mother fell in love with...
I am thrilled.
