Impressive

We have an electric bug zapper hanging out on the back patio. The soft blue glow and the sound of sizzling flies says it’s summer around our house. Each evening when the shadows get long, I turn it on. It takes only seconds before the first electric snap, crackle and zaps are heard. Hundreds of fatally attracted insects are lured by the artificial glow and meet their maker in a quick (sometimes, not so quick) ZAP! It’s sadistically satisfying, don’t you think?

Reminds me of my prayer life. Power on, power off? Some days feels like I’m plugged into 220v and glowing hot. As I talk to the Father, all distractions, problems, and doubts, circling and looking to bite, are easily vaporized. Admittedly, a lot of days feel exactly opposite. There’ve been times, especially praying with others, when I’ve self-energized my prayers hoping to appear more connected than I felt, trying to kickstart the real. Now, the Lord is abundantly gracious and loves to hear our voices regardless, but working up my effort hasn’t been a winning strategy for me. Any real student of prayer knows the persevering element to growth, especially when you don’t feel it. The “fake it hoping to make it” approach isn’t fooling anyone, especially the Lord. 

I wonder how often I’ve prayed for the ears of those around me, rather than the Father?

In the early 90’s, Jen and I lived and worked in Chicago. We enjoyed great friendships, sweet community and a wonderful church life. Trinity Seminary was close by and a number of students attended our church, including great friends of mine. Our pastor had started a Bible study on campus during the week, and though we weren’t students, Jen and I were invited. We loved it and attended whenever we could. These friends were serious about their faith, often referencing their Greek and Hebrew texts when making their points. It was both intimidating and cool. 

Imagine the honor and a horror I felt when our pastor, anticipating out of town travel, asked if I might facilitate this group in his absence. “Me?” I thought, “Surely there are others better qualified than me.” But not wanting to disappoint, I agreed. 

In the weeks leading up to that evening, I stressed like a pro, trying to prepare something that felt impressive. Many in this group were now my friends, but I was still intimidated. I had an inferiority complex, I suppose, feeling less intelligent than those around me. 

Like an insect lured in by a lesser light, I grasped for a way to impress. 

There's only one Source that brings life

I decided to add one of my favorite “God stories” in hopes to wow the academic minded with an experiential illustration of God’s power. It was a legitimate God story, one where God worked miraculously to heal a woman’s arm. When I’d shared it in the past, God would fill it with life. “This will be my ace in the hole, how I will close the teaching,” I thought -- it would be sure to make me look good, even legit, in everyone’s eyes. 

I know, sounds very self-serving, huh?

It was a full house that night and my stomach was in knots. We started with worship. I wasn’t very eloquent as I began, but I suppose it was passable. “If I can just get to the story at the end, I should be all right.” In truth, it was a fairly forgettable teaching; I don’t even remember what it was about. As I began to close, launching in to the story, it seemed to feel a little flat for some reason, which was worrisome. As my eyes scanned the room, I found Jen across from me with a puzzled look on her face. She told me later, “You kept crossing your legs, rubbing your nose and mouth with your hand awkwardly, and your speech grew soft and halting.” I remember none of that. I do remember the tunnel vision, and a rushing of sound in my ears. 

I tried to power through, hoping that the best part of the God story, which was coming up next, would flip the switch and save the day. 

But when I got there, I heard the Lord speak to me in my internal ear. “When you use one of the stories that I've given you to make yourself look good, I will take the power out of it.”

It shook me. Time stood still. I saw clearly what I was doing, and shrank inside. A braver, smarter person would have stopped speaking, repented and reset with the Lord. Had I, perhaps the Lord would have been merciful. But no, I pressed on into a train wreck. When I finally came to the end of myself, I stopped. I’ll never forget the confused looks on people’s faces, like, “What just happened?”

“Ok, let’s break up into groups and pray,” I said. Anything to get the attention off of me. 

No one remembers that evening, but for me it will live in infamy.  

Much later, we laughed at how awful it all was. I repeated over and over again what God had spoken, and promised aloud, “I’ll never do that again.” And by the grace of God, I haven’t. 

Who are you living trying to impress? What’s commanding your attention? There’s only One power source that brings life, all others end in a zap.