A grandfather walking past his little granddaughter’s room one night heard her praying beside her bed. Her head was bowed, hands folded, and she was repeating the alphabet. Grandpa was curious, so he interrupted her and asked, “What are you doing, dear?” She answered, I’m saying my prayers, but I couldn’t think of what to say, so I’m saying all the letters of the alphabet so God can put them together however He thinks best.” Sixty-eight and a half years of life have taught me there are times when it almost seems that would be a good idea! How should we pray when life throws strains and stresses and struggles in our way that are bigger than we are, and that we cannot avoid, control, or escape? The death of a loved one, a difficult marriage, a sickness that won’t go away, financial stress that seems sure to break us, worry about a life-changing decision that has to be made, even a sin we repented of and confessed to God long ago that keeps us secretly wrestling with a load of guilt that haunts and pains our conscience like a broken-bone — what can we do when pain, pressure, and fear is directly in our path, waiting to descend on us like some ravenous beast?
Jesus’ agonizing experience in the Garden of Gethsemane as recorded in Matthew 26:36-46 helps us when things or people threaten our emotional, spiritual, and even physical well-being. In that text the cross looms just hours ahead. Jesus sees it coming, and in Gethsemane admits a storm of grief and even dread is churning inside His holy heart. He tells Peter, James and John in verse 38, “My soul is exceedingly sorrowful, even to death,” and He appeals to these three close friends, “Stay here and watch with Me.” He pleads with God three times, “O My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass away from Me” but every time He adds a qualifying clause” — “if this cup cannot pass away from Me unless I drink it, Your will be done” (verses 39, 42, 44). This passage allows us to peek into one of the most sacred scenes in all the Bible. To quote the magnificent but haunting words from the second verse of William B. Tappan’s song (“Tis Midnight, And On Olive’s Brow”) – “Tis midnight, and from all removed, The Savior wrestles lone with fears; E’en that disciple whom He loved heeds not his Master’s grief and tears.” There is much that is not clear about what was going on that night. It is clear that Jesus wanted God to take the cross away. Even more clear is that as He “wrestled lone with fears” in prayer, He did what He had always done throughout His rescue mission to earth to die so that men and women might be freed from sin’s awful consequences. He submitted and completely surrendered His own will to His Father’s will, even though that would lead to agony, shame and death on a cross. Carl Sandburg told that a delegation met with Abraham Lincoln in the terrible days of the Civil War. A minister expressed hope that “the Lord is on our side.” To the amazement of all present, Lincoln replied, “I am not at all concerned about that. But it is my constant anxiety and prayer that I and this nation should be on the Lord’s side. Jesus in Gethsemane teaches a profound truth — prayer is NOT about bending God’s will to ours so that He removes all the cross-like experiences from our daily lives. Quite the contrary, Gethsemane teaches us prayer is sometimes about wrestling with God over the bitter cups and grief-causing things and people in our lives until we can pray, “Not my will, but Your will be done” — and then trust God as we move ahead. Wrestling with God’s will is a fight we win only when we lose!
Dan Gulley, Smithville TN
