Tag: prayer

Early in my life, I remember my parents started their day reading the daily devotional from the Upper Room at the breakfast table.

I’m not quite sure when or how, but I start my day with the Upper Room devotional too.

As an early riser, nothing else goes on in my life until I read the devotional and the recommended scripture.

Next, I pray, a prayer that I’m sure God and his angels are thankful when this detailed, prolonged plea concludes with—thanks for listening to my prayers.

On Saturday, March 29, the main scripture in the Upper Room was Philippians 4:6: “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.”

If you have been a loyal reader of Might Be Baloney, perhaps you have figured out that I’m a certified worrier at the local, state, national, and international levels. Worry might as well be a name for me.

Worriers are also anxious. As an imperfect Christian and American, at this stage of my life, I have never been so anxious and worried about our country, the United States of America.

I wonder if God and Jesus, and their angels are anxious and worried about America?

My reason for asking is grounded in my honesty. While I always pray for America, since January 20, I’ve been praying more for our country.

Despite my anxious and extra prayers for America, the dismantling of our country continues. Almost everyday, a new executive order is signed and issued. With that single signature, many American lives are forever altered. Quite often those changes are not for the good.

I wonder if my daily prayers are doing any good? If my prayers are having an impact, then why is our president and his staff continuing to make all of these hurtful changes?

In the movie, The Shawshank Redemption, actor Morgan Freeman, portrays inmate, Ellis Boyd “Red” Redding. Mr. Redding is serving a life sentence. The film sequences ten year intervals where Mr. Redding appears before the parole board.

At years, twenty and thirty, Mr. Redding gives the answers that he thinks the parole board wants to hear. He feels confident that his answers will result in earning his release from prison. Unfortunately, Mr. Redding’s parole requests are denied.

In his fortieth year, Mr. Redding appears before the parole board. This time his attitude isn’t hopeful or optimistic. A bitterness hovers over him, a bitterness that conveys I don’t care anymore, go ahead, and deny my parole again.

Yet, in this hearing, there is a difference.

In Mr. Redding’s previous hearings his answers to the questions come across as scripted. Being sorry for his horrible crime seems distant, an after thought.

With this hearing, Mr. Redding’s bitterness reveals what his heart is feeling.

Mr. Redding addresses the chair of the parole board with these two questions: “What do you really want to know? Am I sorry for what I did?”

The chair of the parole board asks Mr. Redding: “Well, are you?”

Here is Mr. Redding’s response: “There’s not a day goes by I don’t feel regret. Not because I’m in here, or because you think I should. I look back on the way I was then, a young, stupid kid who committed that terrible crime.

I wanna talk to him. I wanna try to talk some sense to him — tell him the way things are. But I can’t. That kid’s long gone and this old man is all that’s left. I gotta live with that.”

Screenwriter Frank Darabont’s words delivered by Mr. Redding make me think about America. I want to take that second paragraph and direct these lines to our country— “I wanna talk to America, I wanna try to talk some sense to America—tell America the way things are. But, I can’t.”

And the reason I can’t is because America’s self-talk is singularly focused on—dismantling. There is no trying to talk sense to America because our common sense has disappeared. As for the way things are, our leaders are one dimensional—this is the way things are going to be.

Where is our hard earned democracy in the decisions that are being made?

Where are our voices?

Where are the voices of our politicians in Washington?

Are they silenced by fear?

Anyone with an ounce of common sense knows that our budget deficits needed correction.

Making those corrections would not be easy. However, making those corrections wisely and with an ounce of human compassion was possible.

Unfortunately, wisdom and compassion are absent from the leaders who are making these decision.

The absence of wisdom and compassion in these cuts makes me anxious.

My friend, Anne Burch, recently sent me a link to an interview with former Duke University basketball coach, Mike Krzyzewski(Coach K). The interview was conducted by Duke University professor and author, Kate Bowler.

Early in the interview, Professor Bowler, provides Coach Krzyzewski with a small white board. The assignment is for both of them to write down a word about the pending interview. Coach K wrote on the board “hopeful.”

As I reflect about Coach K’s answer, I’m sorry to tell you this, but I’m not very “hopeful” about America’s current status.

Perhaps, you are thinking, Bill, I’m not surprised in your lack of feeling hopeful about America. You often come across as a whiny pessimist.

While I respect your honest observation, hope is something that I will always hold in my old heart.

And to tell you the truth, I think that is the problem in Washington.

The leaders in Washington who are making these decisions have no heart.

They have no concept of working for the common good of all Americans.

If God is the least bit anxious about America, his concern is about our hearts.

Our hearts have lost their way.

Maybe this quote from Aleksandr Solzhentltsyn is worth pondering: “The line separating good and evil passes not through states, not between classes, nor between political parties either—but through every human heart.”

As far as I can tell with the no hearts in Washington that line has disappeared. With no conscience, evil dominates this empty-headed thinking.

Seems to me this thoughtless Washington thinking is more aligned with Proverbs 17:24: “A man of understanding sets his face toward wisdom, but the eyes of a fool are on the ends of the earth.”

I see no understanding or wisdom in these hurtful decisions. Their eyes are set on revengeful, selfish personal gains.

Yes, I’m anxious for America.

But more anxious about the silence of our hearts.

Maybe, I’m just as vacuous as our Washington leaders.

Every morning, one of my prayers to God is that our president and vice-president find their hearts.