Untangling the “magic words” that can (mis)inform how you and I connect with God and experience purpose can lead us to some surprising places.
“Please” doesn’t seem, at first glance, like it could be an entangling thing.
But when it’s tied to an image of a God who “holds you over the Pit of Hell, much as one holds a Spider, or some loathsome Insect, over the Fire, abhors you, and is dreadfully provoked [sic]” ala Jonathan Edwards’ “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God,” please can reinforce the idea we are not worthy or welcome in God’s presence; our trifling requests at best a nuisance and worst another cause for wrath.
But this is not the picture we see in Scripture — there, we find a God who welcomes us. Who invites us. Who pursues us. Who makes sure we know we are seen and we have purpose. We are made for dependence on him, and our dependency doesn’t surprise him:
When this reality hasn’t made its way to our heart, we find ourselves taking a “please (pretty please… with a cherry on top)” kind of posture and approach; maybe not uttered out loud, but still broadcasting we are convinced God is not inclined to act on our behalf, that we dare not approach or complain or ask or articulate without some magic word that lets God know we are unworthy to bring whatever it is we have before him.
It reveals we have bought into a lie about how God sees us and what he wants from us.
What if you could boldly enter into God’s presence?
Not impertinently, but with a child’s casual and joyful connection in a secure relationship with their parent? To be first convinced of God’s love for you and his desire to see you grow up in strength, wisdom, and flourishing?
“One of my consistent prayers in these days has been a simple statement/request that I’ve sought to root in a deep awareness of God’s goodness and fondness for us: “God, I don’t know what I need. But you do. Give me what I need and don’t know to ask for.”
Please can be a reminder that God is God and I am not; that he can move and work in ways I don’t deserve and don’t comprehend. This kind of “please,” rooted in security and love, is a thing of beauty.
What would bold expectancy look like for you as you ask God to move on your behalf?