Once in a sermon, I remember hearing the
story of a young boy that went something like this:
Eight-year-old
Jeremy very much wanted a bicycle. Now, Jeremy belonged to a Christian family,
and so he decided that the best way to get a new bike was to ask God for one.
The only problem was that he did not know how to pray, and so he looked to his
parents for some advice.
Jeremy’s
father was from a very formal, Reformed Christian background and would often
watch such preachers on the television in the evening. Before going to bed,
Jeremy sat down beside his father’s arm chair and took in part of a sermon and
a prayer by such a pastor. Then he retired to his room, knelt beside his bed
and prayed: “Sovereign God, Creator of all that is. If it is your will that I
should have a bicycle, please grant me said bicycle. And if it pleases you, may
that bicycle be red and possess twenty-one speeds. And if you should ordain it,
may the bicycle be found on the front porch tomorrow morning. Amen” He hopped
into bed, confident that his prayer would be answered. But waking up early and
rushing to the front door, he found no bicycle.
He
was a little saddened by the unanswered prayer, but quickly decided that he
must have prayed wrongly and committed to learn to pray from his mother that
day. She was from a charismatic background and would listen to Pentecostal
preachers throughout the day on the radio. Jeremy spent several hours at the kitchen
table with a pen and paper taking notes while these ministers spoke and prayed.
At bedtime Jeremy ran to his room, paced back and forth with great intensity
and shouted: “I CLAIM a bicycle! It WILL be red and have twenty-one speeds and
it will most ASSUREDLY be on my front porch when I open the door tomorrow
morning. AMEN.” But when he ran to the front door in the morning, no bicycle.
Jeremy
decided to take matters into his own hands. His grandmother had been a Roman
Catholic in her younger years and had had a miniature statue of Mary that was
now in storage in their attic. He spent the majority of his afternoon rummaging
through the attic in an attempt to find this figurine and finally did just
before dinner. He brought the statue down to the dinner table but would not
tell his parents what he was doing with it. Curious, they both crept up to his
door as he was going to bed and peaked in. They saw their son sitting on the
edge of his bed, grasping the statue of Mary, and saying, “Jesus, if you ever
want to see your mother again . . .”
How should we pray?
Or, more specifically, how should we pray for the people who mean a lot to us?
Perhaps people in our family who we love most naturally. Or people at our church
who are not only part of our family but who also work with us in ministry. Or
people who have sacrificed of themselves so that we could benefit.
In
Philippians, Paul is writing to a group of people who mean a great deal to him.
Listen to his words: “God can testify how I long for all of you with the
affection of Christ Jesus.” These were people who had not only come to faith
but who had aided Paul as well. They were in his heart. How did Paul, the
apostle of God, pray for these people who were dear to him? What did he want
for them?
What we
are going to see, is that when we are praying for people who are dear to us, we
need to be praying for their growth in spiritual matters. We need to keep their
spiritual maturity in mind. This is not to say that we should not be praying
for concerns of this world: jobs, finances, school, etc. But spiritual growth,
Christian growth, needs to be our greatest concern.
When
we pray for people who are dear to us, we need to be praying for their
spiritual growth.
No comments:
Post a Comment