unanswered prayers -or- withholding does not mean holding out

One technique that is frequently used in speech therapy is called "withholding."  It's one of the very first techniques that we learn in school.  And it's exactly what it sounds like... when a child is whining or reaching for something, you withhold the item and teach him how to request it with signs or with words.  Remember your mom saying, "I'm sorry, I can't read your mind... you have to tell me what you want"? ... keep reading... I promise I tie all this together...

Two Sundays ago, our pastor gave such a great sermon about unanswered prayers that I had to blog my sermon notes for future reference... as well as some side notes from myself.  Keep the "withholding" technique in mind.  He cited many scriptures about prayer and answers to prayers.... the famous "ask, seek, knock" passage in Matthew 7 and this one: 

Hebrews 4:15-16  New International Version (NIV) 

For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin. Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.

These scriptures have been tossed at me, taken out of context all of my Christian life...  it's so easy to get jaded by God because even though Scriptures can imply that God will give us whatever we want if we just ask, so often we are left stomping our feet with our faces up towards Heaven, with a two-year-old scowl on our faces.  And the infamous question "Why, God?"  on our lips.  *guilty as charged*  Seriously, I am so guilty of doing this... "Lord, You said if I had faith of a mustard seed, You would move the mountain... and you didn't give me that new car I wanted!"  

I know that I've shared this story before, but it's so fitting here:  after I suffered a miscarriage, I sat on the couch lamenting to Heath in the kitchen about how I had prayed and how I felt God had let me down...  Heath suddenly stuck his head around the corner of the kitchen wall... "You know, maybe it's not that we serve a faulty God who can't answer our prayers... maybe it's that we've got a faulty theology when it comes to how He really operates." And even though we had come to this conclusion, our little puny human minds could not understand God's infinite wisdom.

Okay, back to what Keith said:  so Keith said (in a nutshell)... answered prayer has conditions... that we must pray according to His will ... we must pray with pure motives... and that He will always answer your prayers:  it just may not be the answer you were looking for... *I'll give you a moment to let that sink in*

During speech therapy, when I withhold from a child, I am not trying to be cruel or heartless... I am simply trying to convey, "Hey, I know that you've got more inside you than you are letting the world see... I am going to challenge you."  And so it is with God... He pushes us to places where we can see more of Him and experience more of Him.  I have to trust that He sees a bigger picture (so cliche, I know, but true).  

So my prayer for you, beloved, is that in this moment of unanswered prayers, that you feel His arms wrap around you... that You hear Him whisper to you... that You understand that He wants the absolute best for you.  

2 for 1: "what my mother told me" & "primal screams"

Part One: "what my mother told me"
A post on Facebook from The MOB society prompted this question: where do you, as a mother to boys, go for some down time?  This post just hit me in a spot that had been sore for weeks... between my 7 month old boy, my 5 year old boy, my husband, my job, my own postpartum issues and my other obligations, I have been drowning.  Throw in delaying grief of my grandfather's death (because I was pregnant when he passed) and the upcoming holidays,  I have been working hard to hold the dam of the tears to keep from erupting.... but I felt that I was about to burst wide open with all the pressure I felt mounting on me.  This past Friday, I thought I was going to break with it all... as much as I love every single bit about my life, there are seasons of so much busy-ness that I just get plumb over-stimulated by all the noise and movement.  My boys seem to thrive and become more energized by it all... I just have to work not to shut-down.  So I typed a frantic text message to my mother as I sat in the parking lot of the grocery store: "How in the world did you do it all when we were little?"  By the time I got home, she had written back, "close the doors to the bedrooms and the laundry room, and get on the floor and play with them... they won't be little for long."  

And I took a deep breath after I lugged everyone and everything into the house... I put the groceries up quickly... and I got on the floor and played with my boys.  Something broke in me at that moment.  

So where do I go for some down time?  In the midst of this wonderful mess of a life?  I guess I go into that place in my heart where I sit down and count my blessings and let go of all the rest....

Part Two: "primal screams"
I guess it's no wonder that I have two boys of my own.  The majority of my caseload is boys.  But I saw a transaction between my own two that solidified what I've known in theory about boys:  My oldest (stripped down to his skivvies) looked at his little bother (who was in nothing but his diaper) and just screamed this primal scream.  Before I could say, "sshh! you are making my ears bleed!"  my baby clamped his little hands into fists and bore out this weaker version, but just as passionate primal scream.  They went back and forth with these primal screams for several exchanges... And they both laughed and squealed.  They communicated and bonded in that moment in a kind of ritual that girls don't engage in.  And I thought about how things had changed between my first born and I after I got down on the floor and played with him on Friday... changed for the better.  And I thought about what I had learned in graduate school about learning styles and strengths in boys: how they are often more kinesthetic and tactile in their play and learning styles.  And I think I actually heard the light bulb ding on over my head... physically playing more with the boys = deeper bond with mommy