I Thessalonians Chapter 1

“We remember before our God and Father your work produced by faith, your labor prompted by love, and your endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ. For we know, brothers and sisters loved by God, the he has chosen you, . . .” (I Thess 1:3-4 NIV)

A Prayer for My Daughter

Choose my daughter, oh Lord, to be one of Your own. May her faith in You produce great works and be a labor of love. Fill her with an endurance inspired by Your Hope and let Your Word take root in her heart through the Holy Spirit, with power, and deep conviction. ... 

I pray that even when surrounded by pressure and persecution, that she remains True to You, welcoming Your message with all joy. Make her a model of Christ to the world and make Your Truth ring out from her lips. Bless her with a vibrant, enduring faith and a heart of service so that she may bear testimony to You where ever she goes as the Living God. 

Frustrated and overwhelmed by the massive pile of dirty dishes, sticky countertops, and atrocious laminate flooring in my kitchen, I suppressed my impulse to scream or fling plates against the wall. Just finished hosting out of town guests, my house looked like a bomb exploded and my unwashed dishes, piling laundry, and scattered toys were collateral damage.

Adding to the layers of mounting work, phone calls vied for attention, looming deadlines demanded my time, and anxious thoughts worried through my head. How will I get everything done? What should I do first? Where should I even begin?

Standing in the middle of the kitchen, confronted with disorder and chaos in both my physical surroundings and my scattered mind, I felt paralyzed with indecision. It all needed done, and it all needed to be done now. I stepped over to the kitchen table and slumped down on a chair grubby with food from breakfast. The weight of every task, phone call, deadline, or demand that needed addressed in this small window of time, crashed down upon me. It had been a while since I last felt so helpless to even get started.

Oh Lord, I hopelessly pleaded, will You please order my thoughts, order my steps, and order my actions this morning?

The static in my head seemed to clear a bit. Order my thoughts, my steps, and my actions Lord, I repeated with greater calm. My posture straightened on the chair, I felt inwardly stronger and more readily able to receive direction. Help me, oh Lord, I inquired, what shall I do? Where do You want me to start?

​Self-condemning thoughts of how I could let things go for so long still poked and prodded, butt some semblance of a plan started to unfold in slow, creaking steps.

​I forced myself up and slowly moved to the laundry hamper. It felt like I was walking through liquid cement, but I dragged the hamper to the washing machine and dumped in a large pile of clothes. As the washing machine clunked and rattled behind my back, I sank back down in the kitchen chair and let my fingers methodically dial the numbers for phone calls. One by one each call was made, and a small sense of victory waded in among the anxious voices. There are still so many things to do in so little time, clambered my inner whirlwind. 

Flipping open my phone, I listened to the time. A little over an hour left. Taking a big breath, I exhaled and let my slow breath calm and center my swirling thoughts. Just be and let go. I closed my eyes and inhaled, long and deep, deep and wide. Let go of all your expectations and just focus on the now, came the silent whisperings across my heart. Soul quieted, I reached for the pile of dishes in the sink and started wiping, scrubbing, and rinsing. With each inhale and exhale of breath, my flurried movements slowed and became less careless or hurried. The warmth of the soapy water immersed my hands in a sudsy baptism while the still silence of the house joined with the murmuring clinks of dishes and the quiet splashes of water.

Then, dancing like sunbeams across the back recesses of my mind, a song from decades past, floated through my spirit. Alone in the house, I opened my mouth and let the old words flow from my lips. I will give You all my worship, whispered my soft words in the quietness, I will give You all my praise.

My heart lifted, and my voice gained strength. You alone, I long to worship, you alone are worthy of my praise. Again, and again, these verses flowed from my mouth, each time with greater authenticity and sincerity. Each scrub of a plate, each arm stretching to wipe the counter, each rub of the rag became more deliberate, more purposeful and intentional as a beautiful and fragrant offering to the Lord. May each movement I make in this here and now, be an act of worship to You.

​Tears brimmed in my eyes, heart full and overflowing. I lay before the Lord all that I had to offer. My heart, my thoughts, my voice, my hands and arms scrubbing, washing, and cleaning, the stretch of my torso as I leaned in with rhythmic motions, my feet and legs which danced to the song of old. Every movement, every motion, every muscle, and heartbeat, and every thought laid bare and humble before the Lord. 

Sometimes it is the simplest of offerings which are the greatest and most treasured of sacrifices. In a world that values money, success, appearances, perfection, and potential, Jesus’s ‘come as you are’ invitation would be tossed out with the dirty dish water, it is not our exemplary parenting, spotless homes, perfectly choreographed schedules that impress Jesus but r genuine, lowliness, and meekness of hearts that are often the most precious and most fragrant of offerings.

Laying before the throne of God the first fruits of our joys, struggles, victories, fears, and sorrows will be received far sooner than our pride, mastery, skillful manipulation, or any other form of self-promotion. Jesus just wants us as we are, imperfect, flawed, unclean, disorganized, wounded, and heavy laden. So long as we surrender all that we are and that that we have, and all that we will become to the One who gave His all for us, then what we bring will find favor.

​Whether it is praises from our lips, anguished sobs, desperate pleadings, or cries of rage – Jesus will welcome you in with arms wide open and accept you as you are. “Come, and I will give you rest,” calls his gentle voice, “for my yolk is easy and my burdens are light.” Experience a love so deep and so wide that it washes the foulest clean and gives rest to the weary, hope for the hopeless, peace amidst the storm, and joy from sorrow. Only come and do not tarry. Don’t wait until things get better or when things calm down. Don’t wait until you are perfectly coiffed, calm, collected, and in control, but run to Him with your filthy rags as the most beautiful and sweetest of offerings.

Dear parents and friends, mothers and daughters, father and sons, spouses and grandparents, when your day is swinging wildly out of control, when everything is crumbling down around you, when the children are screaming and in bad temper, when your world is so disorganized and filled with clutter, use these moments and these opportunities to bow low before the throne of grace and offer up the shreds of our sanity and remnants of our self-control as an act of worship to the God of restoration, renewal, and newness of life. For remember, it is not the perfect, the clean, or the well that Jesus came to save, it was the broken, the sick, the hurting, and the one stained with sin. Come as you are, and He will grant you rest.

A Prayer for Myself

Lord, may each movement and action I make in the here and now, be an act of worship to You today. May the thoughts and medication of my mouth be pleasing to You, I lay before You all that I am and all that I will be before You. Take these most humble and meek of offerings. Take me as I am and make me every Yours.