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- Feb 9, 2004
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Driving a motorcycle with no helmet or headlight on a two-lane highway through the mountains in a snowstorm at night. That’s dangerous. Asking a woman her age. That’s dangerous. But praying? How is praying dangerous? Isn’t praying what sweet grandmas do in the safety of their living rooms? What could we possibly mean by Dangerous Prayers?
In The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, C.S. Lewis’ fantasy fiction about talking animals and kids traveling to other worlds, a little girl named Susan asks Mr. Beaver an important question about Aslan the lion. Aslan, if you didn’t know, is the God-like character in the stories. The conversation about Aslan goes like this.
Susan: Is he—quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion.
Mr. Beaver: Safe? Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you.
We serve a King who isn’t safe, but He’s good. When we pray, our prayers shouldn’t be safe; they should be good, big, and dangerous like God. We tend to come to God with our dirty laundry, or our laundry list of what He can do for us. What if we came asking what we could do for Him? That’d be dangerous.
True prayer holds in it this tendency to push us beyond our comfort zones. What’s a comfort zone? It’s the me-circle where everything endlessly revolves around our own needs and wants. It’s our kingdom where we are the king or queen. Prayer pulls us out of these me-circles because prayer is about His Kingdom coming and His will being done. Prayer is how we realize, like Mr. Beaver, that He’s the King.
Pray: Heavenly Father, You made time, and space, and me. Forgive me for praying and living like I know better than You. Help me to pray dangerous prayers. Father, let the desires of Your heart become the desires of mine. Let Your kingdom come and Your will be done on earth as it is in Heaven. Amen.
Philippians 3:7-9
But what things were gain to me, those I counted loss for Christ. Yea doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord: for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and do count them but dung, that I may win Christ, And be found in him, not having mine own righteousness, which is of the law, but that which is through the faith of Christ, the righteousness which is of God by faith:
YouVersion devotional
In The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, C.S. Lewis’ fantasy fiction about talking animals and kids traveling to other worlds, a little girl named Susan asks Mr. Beaver an important question about Aslan the lion. Aslan, if you didn’t know, is the God-like character in the stories. The conversation about Aslan goes like this.
Susan: Is he—quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion.
Mr. Beaver: Safe? Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you.
We serve a King who isn’t safe, but He’s good. When we pray, our prayers shouldn’t be safe; they should be good, big, and dangerous like God. We tend to come to God with our dirty laundry, or our laundry list of what He can do for us. What if we came asking what we could do for Him? That’d be dangerous.
True prayer holds in it this tendency to push us beyond our comfort zones. What’s a comfort zone? It’s the me-circle where everything endlessly revolves around our own needs and wants. It’s our kingdom where we are the king or queen. Prayer pulls us out of these me-circles because prayer is about His Kingdom coming and His will being done. Prayer is how we realize, like Mr. Beaver, that He’s the King.
Pray: Heavenly Father, You made time, and space, and me. Forgive me for praying and living like I know better than You. Help me to pray dangerous prayers. Father, let the desires of Your heart become the desires of mine. Let Your kingdom come and Your will be done on earth as it is in Heaven. Amen.
Philippians 3:7-9
But what things were gain to me, those I counted loss for Christ. Yea doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord: for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and do count them but dung, that I may win Christ, And be found in him, not having mine own righteousness, which is of the law, but that which is through the faith of Christ, the righteousness which is of God by faith:
YouVersion devotional
