Thoughts from a Musician's Heart

STUCK AND PRAYING by Dr. Paul Kenyon

I am currently in a season of waiting. And no, I am not good at it at all. I am not young, so no, I am not anxiously awaiting my next career move. Rather, I am simply transitioning into my next season of life, which is something like un-retirement. And no, I do not intend to stop playing, practicing, teaching or any of the myriads of things that have filled my hours for as long as I can remember. For years I have been deflecting questions about when I will stop “working.” My plan has always been to “die in the saddle,” or at least to keep going until my sense of wonder has departed. The thing I didn’t see coming were grandchildren, and the opportunity to have some influence on the next generation of my family.

At times the circumstances seem to lead very clearly and then at others, the silence feels deafening. My devotional times have been surprisingly rich during these months, and I have learned some new disciplines that have helped me deeply. However, I have also learned that when I seek God’s face more diligently, I am also more vulnerable to attacks, where the enemy intensifies his efforts to undermine the growth God has brought into my life.

Lately as I have been crawling through an endless chain of decisions, I have recognized a recurring pattern during this season that I can only describe as “stuck.” I suppose it is fear that makes the sticky mess, even though I rarely recognize the pattern until the stagnation has become full blown and seems impenetrable. During these times I carry on an embarrassingly misguided internal monologue about how I really should be able to handle this thing, that I don’t really need help, that I should just suck it up and get going. Such thinking kills my resolve and wounds my spirit. Left to my own I am so self-absorbed in my supplications that I lose sight of God’s priority.   

Just when the self-pity and despair become overwhelming, when I feel least worthy of divine intervention, a crack appears in the wall where some light breaks through. I recognize that God is still prepared to direct my steps through the mud. God cares about the things that have me stuck. He already knows what has me bogged down in the swamp. He usually waits until he has been invited in before undertaking the reclamation project that is us. His grace is so great that he meets me in my most unworthy moment through the presence of the Holy Spirit. Ordinarily, when the hand of God moves through in such a profound and powerful way, I have even forgotten that I had remembered to pray for help.

“But now thus says the LORD, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name; you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you, and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.”

Isaiah 43:1-2 NRSVUE

For the past few months I have slowly read Dallas Willard’s Life without Lack, in which he delves into the rich truths of Psalm 23. Willard uses the familiar text to explain how it reveals God’s character and the ways in which he longs to participate in all of our lives and not just the “spiritual” parts. Willard recommends memorizing and praying scripture to shape our daily walk in such a way that we begin to see our days as lived in Christ’s presence.

Joshua said to the Israelites: “How long will you wait before you begin to take possession of the land that the Lord, the God of your ancestors, has given you? Joshua 18:3 NIV

I remember an older gentleman from an earlier time in my life, saying  he believed our church was “living below the level of God’s provision.” At the time his language seemed a bit old-fashioned to me, and I didn’t really see his point. Today I understand that our life with God can be richer than we can understand.