New Year Prayer
It is cold here. Not Arctic cold, but cold for Texas. Another three degrees and the water in the bird’s bath would freeze. As I stepped outside for my first walk in the New Year, my thoughts coalesced into this prayer:
Father, it’s the New Year. I’m grateful to you for including me in its dawn. I realize what is past and what is unfolding may be a year, a day, or a thousand years for you. Just the same, happy New Year! It is my desire and determination to walk with you, affirm you, and dedicate my trust to you.
I understand that you are God and I am not. Yet, while totally convinced of this, I still struggle to maintain my clarity of conviction. But in this moment, I declare you my Lord, King of kings, and that there is no other who compares to you. I bow my knee and pledge my allegiance to you.
I believe in you, but am painfully aware that unbelief still haunts me. Father, I humbly ask that you help my unbelief because it makes me unhappy.
In asking this, I grasp that struggle, conflict, consternation, and darkness are often the best remedies to isolate doubt and solidify belief. But I know you cause all things to work together for good whether “things” make sense to me or not.
I comprehend that my ways are not yours. I relinquish my ways and wish to opt into your ways, Father. All I ask—and trust—is that you call my name in the darkness, for it’s in the darkness where distrust and unbelief haunt me, but it’s in the darkness where your treasures lie. It’s a duplicitous journey, but not without purpose. Of this, I’m convinced—walking now in the quiet of my silent neighborhood. Help my conviction remain unassailable when raucous times arise this year, or later today for that matter.
While you are high and lifted up and I am but dust, I realize that “to dust you shall return” was not spoken of my soul. I don’t think it will ever be possible for me to understand, but I do comprehend that you formed me, made me, came for me, and treasure me as a member of your family. As your son, you invite me close and ask that I address you as Father, Papa. This is so amazing that it’s incomprehensible, yet it is within the capacity of my soul to respond accordingly. I do so with gratitude and recognition that this disposition is indicative of your mercy, made possible by your grace. Thank you.
1972
As my Father, you have dedicated yourself to caring for me, raising me, and including me. I know this to be the case theologically, philosophically, and historically. But I’m so prone to take care of myself. Of this, I repent Father. I recognize the new heart you’ve instilled into me, a heart filled with desire to trust you. To live truly is my heart’s desire—and I declare you true and worthy of my trust.
Brother Jesus: Thank you for coming to find me. I don’t know why you thought me worth having, but I recognize that you did, and that through your redemption, you gave me the resource to live as one possessing eternal worth. I respect you as my Older Brother. I know you’ve got my back and that you don’t take kindly to those who seek to take advantage of me.
Brother, I believe in you. I believe you are divine and fully God, that you have always existed, and that by you all things were made and that through your power all things hold together. I also believe that you entered into my earthly realm, fully human. I believe you suffered everything I suffer and were tempted in all ways like I’m tempted. I also believe you never succumbed, either to the disillusionment suffering brings or to the disobedience enticed by temptation. I admire you, Brother. I want you to live through me, exhibit yourself in me, and care for me as only a Big Brother can do for his younger sibling. I want to walk like you, look like you, be like you.
Magician, dear Spirit: You know the desires of my heart—better than I know them, in fact. I recognize that you are dedicated to guiding me, forming me, coaching me, and leading me progressively to know and understand your ways. Please, make this so!
In you, I live and move and have my being. I’m grateful.
I realize that your presence in me is irrevocable, constant, complete, and without prejudice. I embrace your status in me—and mine as a consequence. I’m painfully slow to learn. I’m afflicted with infirmities, foggy outlook, and powerful fleshly ways that contend against your ways. But Magician, my heart’s desire is to know you and understand my divine genetics. Help me, please. I’m counting on you, for without you, my heart will break. I know that relying on you brings me joy and peace. In you, I rest. Work your magic as you see fit, please.
Father, Brother, Magician; Lord God, Jesus, and Holy Spirit: You are three equals, demonstrating different roles, but you are One, the only true God. You reasoned that it would be good to make me—and you did. You created me in your image, and the only logical reason for you to do this is because you hoped that I would participate—could participate—with you. You are my family. In you, I live and move and have my being. I’m grateful.
You endowed me with the ability to think, reason, and you granted me the viability of decision-making without compromise to the ultimate distinction of my willfulness. While there is eternal risk in your endowment of me with freedom of choice, there is potential for eternal joy and fellowship—should I desire it. And I do!
You are good, truly good. Your goodness is the source from which all your qualities, character traits, and dispositions emanate. You are good, and because of your goodness, you have come to me. Thank you.
I rededicate myself to the study of your Word, the Bible. I believe it is inspired, breathed into existence by your mind, and that a proper respect for it means that I begin with what it says, not what I would like for it to say.
As this New Year starts rolling, I recognize you: Father, Brother, Magician. Here’s to you! And because of you and your goodness to me, here’s to us!
Now, as you instructed, I bring these thoughts to you this morning in the matchless name of my Older Brother, Jesus-the-Christ. Amen