Here's another post that I delayed. Maybe sharing it is a form of self-encouragement. I know how this part of the journey turns out, so I'm anxious to figure out the next part.
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A few years ago, a wise friend once asked, "Joel, do you ever pray dangerous prayers?" I wasn't sure what she meant, but she wouldn't elaborate. I pondered the thought. Why would I pray a dangerous prayer? Wouldn't that mean that I'd be asking God to make me uncomfortable? That sounded kind of stupid and not really what faith today is all about, right? I wasn't about to ask to be sent to war or put out on the street. I was pretty sure I could learn from the examples in the Old and New Testaments about God's love, provision, and plans to prosper me and not harm me, without really doing any heavy lifting of my own. No "dangerous prayers" for me, thank you very much. Besides, I already had plans for the weekend.
Earlier this spring, I'd begun the weekly commute between Austin, one of the best cities to live in in the country as rated in every magazine possible, to, well, Brownwood, TX. Each Monday (or Sunday night), I point my truck due north on Hwy, 183 and take a nap for the next 2-1/2 hours until I get there. On Fridays I make the same drive, only in reverse. In addition, technically I am still homeless, as I do not have an address with my name on it. I'd always figured that at 34 years of age that I'd have a decent home, with a shop for building stuff and a good yard to maintain. Walking around the factory at night to throw something in the dumpster reminded me I am pretty far from my original plan.
So what did my friend mean?
I knew that when I left my old job that it would be an adventure. However, like some sort of modern-day prodigal son, spreading compost wasn't on my original agenda. Don't pray for humility.
The contract job was turning from what I thought to be a two month assignment, into something much greater. How long could I keep going? Can I figure out how to deal with some of these people? The answers aren't coming as quickly as I need them to feel comfortable. The long drive is really getting old. Don't pray for patience.
Between staying with my ultra-generous friends and living in the factory, I have no idea what's going to happen next. When will I get my own place to live? When will this assignment be done? Is this going to turn out OK? What's going to be next? Don't pray for faith.
Daily, twenty-two people, often more, need me to fix something, look at something, answer a question, figure something out, or make peace. At the end of each day, I am exhausted. Don't pray for endurance.
See where this is all going? Trust me, the best chance to avoid such trials is to stay where you are doing exactly what you're doing. There's no guarantee of happiness or avoidance of boredom, but as a pastor once said, "Don't pray for a miracle, because miracles require miracle situations."
Praying dangerously.
JRH
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