Thin Air, High Hope

Father,

My heart is heavy as I reflect on these past weeks, months, and years. It becomes clearer and clearer that there is nothing new under the sun, especially when it comes to violence and hatred, oppression and abuse. As I sit with others and hear talk about forgiving our enemies, about how You call us to pray for them, I realize I have not. I have not let my heart or my thoughts settle long enough to go there.

And so I pray now. Please help me, Father, to see Your heart and to be honest before You.

I pray for the shooters, so many over the years. I cannot imagine the darkness and barrenness of soul that must exist. When did humanity give way to such wild, reckless cruelty? What splinter of glass wedged itself so deeply into the heart and mind that it allowed the detached taking of human life? The darkness there frightens me. What terror must have also existed, at some point, in their own lives? God, only You know how to confront that darkness, and so I pray nothing for them except that You take them into Your hands.

I pray for the murderers. For those whose hatred is so consuming that killing seems like the only recourse. They are led by anger and rage, and the child they once were is lost. Or perhaps, for some reason, they never knew the innocence of a child. God, I cannot understand why some take life so easily, why such brokenness can hollow out a person until ending a life feels no more than shutting a door or pulling a weed. Again, Father, these things are too great and too awful for me to grasp, so I give them to You. If there is still mercy for any who have gone down this path, I pray they might receive it.

I pray for those certain of their own righteousness, for those who hurl truths like daggers, sowing division and hate, all while taping a mask of Jesus over it. For those who are grateful they are not like “the sinners,” who have no need to listen because they believe they already understand, who prize words of righteousness above acts of mercy. Beneath their certainty, is there pain? A desperation for validation? A fear of losing what seems good, driving them toward behavior born of indignation? God, only You know. I pray You would break the lens of self-righteousness so they may experience Your compassion and mercy, first for themselves, and then for others.

God, I pray for the bitter, for those so deeply wounded by the actions of others that their souls feel beyond healing. For those who lash out in rage, clinging to their hurt like a life preserver, not realizing it is pulling them under. How do You reach such hearts, Lord? Please comfort them. Open their eyes to see how Your Son let go and stretched out His own arms, entrusting Himself fully to You. Reassure them of Your care, of Your indignation, of Your promised justice for the oppressed and forgotten. Strengthen them to stand with a courage greater than the false strength bitterness provides. Free them to love more deeply, unmoved by the evil of this world.

I pray for the complacent, for those with the privilege of not noticing or not knowing. For those who hear the whispers of pain around them but remain satisfied in comfort and ease. I do not mean, Lord, those who are simply trying to survive their own battles or pouring their strength into caring for their families. I pray for those who rush past the battered man on the roadside, whose priorities drown out the cries of Your hurting children. For those who refuse to cross the lake to meet the demon-possessed because it feels inconvenient or messy. God, don’t let them reach the end of life and realize their rushing amounted to nothing. Open their eyes and their schedules. Fill them with compassion so they may notice the person near them who needs kindness.

And, God, I pray for myself, for my own heart. Father, I don’t know why You placed me where You did, why You gave me this home, this skin, this gender. Why is my mind whole while others’ are not? Why do I have a safe home, healthy children, a husband of integrity? Why am I free to study, to eat the food I want, even to write these words? You and I know it is not a matter of deserving. I don’t understand, but I trust You. And I pray for forgiveness. Forgive my complacency. Forgive the way my limitations sometimes become excuses. Forgive the bitterness and anger that rise up in me when I hear certain viewpoints. Forgive my inaction when I have the means to act. Forgive my ignorance, the things I should understand but do not. Forgive me when I fail to represent You well, when I falter in communicating both Your love and Your holiness. In my selfishness, apathy, and misguided self-righteousness, I, too, so often live as an enemy of Your way.

God, we do not know how to live this life. You see it, in the hurt, rage, and apathy around us. Please forgive us. Grant us wisdom beyond ourselves, and help us know it is from You alone so we do not grow arrogant. Give us a love larger than what we can offer, and the strength and courage to live it out. Even as I pray this, I realize how limited my understanding is. I do not know what to pray, but You do. Let every heart that longs to please You, truly please You.

As I end this prayer, my heart remains heavy but it is also grateful. Grateful that You are always present, that You know all things, and that You will make all things right in Your time. Thank You for Your mercy, Your grace, and Your patience.

It is in Your Son Jesus’ name I pray. Amen.