A Writer’s Prayer

My dear Jesus,

As I pull my chair up to the computer to write, I beg that you would not only sit next to me, patting me gently on the back, but actually dip down and draw up words from the well of your Spirit. I pray for your anointing.  I want my words to make you smile.

Lord, I’m sorry for competing, comparing myself, and seeking affirmation from others. Forgive me for the pride of exalting myself instead of pointing to you. I confess my blatant ignorance of the suffering of others and the ways I shield myself from their pain so that I can continue in my comfort.  Wash me, Lord, and purify my motives for writing.

Thank you for raising up writers to speak truth during days when truth seems like a shimmering mirage.  As your daughters and sons, we see through a darkened glass, but it doesn’t mean that Truth is not solid or that it does not exist.  

I pray for the boldness to speak up against injustice when I have the opportunity–even when I don’t have a solution.

I pray that fear would never keep me from doing what you have called me to do.  Please give me faith to keep moving forward.

I pray that you would pour my boiling anger at rash injustice into the funnel of faith, hope and love. Mold it into a useful tool for building and planting instead of a weapon of violence that only kills, destroys and feeds the fury of hate.

I pray for the strength to do what I can, when I can, and to have grace for myself and others for the things that I am not capable of doing right now.

I pray that I would do my part–tend my small square in the larger tapestry–and write for my community and my people without being overwhelmed by how much more there is to do in the name of justice, hope and love.

I pray for the courage to be vulnerable, authentic and transparent if my openness will free others to feel they are not alone, aid in their healing or empower them to do the next thing.  I pray my writing would cost me something.

I pray for the gift of words–dazzling, true, clear, precise words–that will best speak the message you want me to share.

I pray for discipline to write even when I feel tired, uninspired or empty.

I pray for energy to learn, change, grow, admit my weaknesses, beg forgiveness and ask hard questions that may have no obvious answers. 

I pray for wide eyes, hearing ears, open hands and a burning heart that come from spending time in the presence of Jesus himself. 

I pray for wisdom in choosing the path you have marked for me without getting distracted by the daisy-lined trails that may intrigue, but are not the ones you want me to explore.

I pray for miracles.  May your Spirit transform my words–my simple offering of a few loaves and fish–and multiply them to feed the ones (even the one) you intend for them to feed.

I pray for encouragement on the days I want to quit.  Please minister to me when I feel depleted and nourish me with even one small crumb of a reminder that I am still on Your Way.

Jesus, thank you for raising up other writers to add their voices to the collective chorus that is singing out boldly for you in the midst of so much pain, hatred and bitterness in the world. Keep our voices sweet, but strong.

Finally, I pray for love.

For “if I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing (1 Corinthians 13: 1-3 NLT).”

Loveless words are empty words.  Infuse my words with the purifying fire of your love.

Thank you for calling me to write for such a time as this. Thank you for the few magical moments when I’ve felt that you are pouring words into and drawing them back out of me.  I pray that you would keep my voice in tune with yours and fill the earth with even more voices to sing out to you.

I pray that you would give us holy anger, inexplicable wisdom, unshackled hope, compassionate love, endless grace, spirit-fueled power and unpolluted vision as we cannot help speaking about what we have seen and heard (Acts 4:20)

Thank you that we are never alone, but that we write with you. 

In Jesus’ powerful name.

Amen.

~~~

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