PRAYER WAGON

Who then is the one who condemns? No one. Jesus Christ who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us. Romans 8:34 NIV

I woke in the middle of the night wondering about the people from years ago—15, 20, 25 +++ years—who have long since fallen off the back of my prayer wagon.

The gospel singer who woke in me a hunger for what I saw in his face as he sang. The vicious ex-husband who pushed me to the end of myself and into Jesus’ arms.

The speeding Walter Mitty (Google that, young’uns) off duty fireman responsible for the fender bender I got the ticket for; praying that the shame I saw in his face as he lied in court would work him all the way to Jesus. The judge in that traffic court who pounded his gavel and said about my defense, “I don’t want to hear it. Guilty!”

The guy who followed me into a parking lot to confront me. His impotent road rage—angels, y’all—as he turned and pounded his fist into his own truck.

Long time members of our local congregation retired and moved away. The “all faiths minister” who refused to hear of the Way, the Truth, the Life.

I didn’t dump them. New riders boarding in the front crowded them back and back until they just fell off. Didn’t miss them right away. Got my eyes front watching for hitchhikers, weary pilgrims on the road ahead.

Prayer warrior? Me? Sometimes I feel like it isn’t a warhorse pulling my wagon, but Balaam’s donkey.

But I have access to my God’s ear and His heart. Gotta use it, even when I’m weary and overwhelmed.

Once in a while I remember to circle around and pick those folks up again—but my wagon’s tiny and they just keep getting crowded out.

Sometimes I even fall off my own wagon.

But Jesus has the granddaddy of all prayer wagons, room for me and all the yous out there who ever were or will be. I’ll never be crowded off His wagon, never fall off unnoticed. Nobody will. One day I won’t be here to drive this rickety wagon anymore, but He’ll still be driving in style. Best ride ever. Get your thumbs out there, y’all!

Avi, thank You for my prayer wagon, splinter seat, wobbly wheels and all. Thank You for the privilege of driving it for You. Help me to be faithful.

In Your Holy Name, Amen

FLIGHT RISK

Listen! I will tell you a mystery. We will not all sleep but we will all be changed. In a flash, in a twinkling of an eye at the last trumpet, the trumpet will sound and the dead will be raised imperishable and we will be changed.                                                                      I Corinthians 15:51,52

Don’t count on me. I might—make that I’m gonna—skip out on you. You can count on me doing my best as long as I’m here—but don’t count on me being here.

I’m a certified, dyed-in-the-wool flight risk.

What would happen if I stood before a judge and said that? I don’t have money for the bond he’d jack up on me, if he gave me any bond at all.

But my whole penalty is paid, my whole sentence already served. I’ve got a ticket to ride, debt-free and clear, bought and paid for and given to me.

This world is not my home. When my Father comes to get me, there’s nothing stopping him (not even that earthly judge’s jail cell) from taking this born-again flight risk outta here, all the way to the Home He’s building for me.

Ain’t workin’ no notice, either! Don’t count on me. I’m outta here.

But you know who you can count on? The One who’s coming to take me to my real Home, the God of all Creation.

What will it be like to fly with You, Avi? And without a plane!

When I went for a glider ride, the pilot put me in the front seat, nothing between me and the open sky but the glider’s nose and the tail of the tow plane at the other end of a heavy yellow rope. (No fear; I knew You wouldn’t drop me.) Then the pilot told me to pull the yellow handle and we were free, soaring through the clouds, looking down as we left this world behind, looking up and wondering how far it was to Home.

Time too short. I wanted to stay up there, going higher and higher.

But that little flight memory can’t compare to the reality when You come for us and we taste true freedom, flying with You into Eternity, Home at last. 

Even so, come, Lord Jesus.

In Your Holy Name, Amen.