Friday, October 10, 2025

The Principles of Prayer LXI

 God knows why we pray for the things we pray for—purpose matters. Why we desire what we desire plays a role in whether or not God acquiesces to our supplication. We may not be honest enough with ourselves to acknowledge or admit it, but oftentimes the prayers we pray are selfish, self-centered, and venal, having the man or woman staring back in the mirror as the primary focus and benefactor.

Even seemingly selfless prayers, especially when prayed in public settings within earshot of others, turn out to be nothing more than self-serving, self-aggrandizing declaratives meant to impress those who happen to be listening and elevate our importance or relevance in their eyes.

The widow wanted justice, not so she could prove her neighbor, who said she had no case, wrong, or to show her adversary that she couldn’t be messed with, but because an injustice had been done against her, and she wanted justice for justice’s sake.

When we come before God and ask Him to use us, and the next thirty minutes are used to deliver instructions as to the manner in which we would like to be used, the office to which we would like to be called, the size of the ministry we’re willing to helm, and the prestige we expect once we sign on the dotted line, it’s no longer a desire to be used as a servant, it’s an entitled self-promoting dictate to the God of the universe insisting that we deserve nothing less than everything we’re asking for. I know my worth, and I’ll not take a penny less! That has become the war cry of an entire delusional and self-aggrandizing generation.

Lord, use me. Send me to Fiji that I may deliver your gospel to the natives and bask in the wonders of your creation. If not Fiji, the least I would consider is Hawaii, one of the least populated islands, because the Big Island is just too congested.

If the genuine desire of one’s heart is to be of service to God, the extent of their prayer should be, “Lord, use me!” The how, when, and where are solely His discretion, and as servants, we have neither input nor preference when it comes to being called and sent.

We do not choose the office; God assigns it to us. We do not walk in our own strength, but God grants us the strength to walk in the office to which we’ve been assigned, and if we deviate or aspire to something other than what God has called us to, we cease walking in His strength and resume walking in ours.

Some men are called to be teachers but aspire to be prophets. While walking in the calling to which they have been called and teaching the Word of God, the presence of the Holy Spirit is real and tangible; their teaching connects even if spoken in simple words, because it is the power and anointing of God that causes the message to pierce the heart. If, at some point, their pride gets the better of them, and they venture into an arena to which they were never called, and attempt to manufacture prophecy, or cloak themselves in the aura of the prophetic, that power and anointing are no longer there because they are no longer walking in the calling God called them to but in their own flesh.

We each have a place in the kingdom. The harvest is plentiful, and the laborers remain few, but to be of use, we must know what our calling is and remain within its borders, joyful and content in whatever He has called us to.

But Lord, I can do so much more in some different region in a different calling with a larger digital footprint. Perhaps the day may come when He will call you to do more, but until such a time, be faithful and diligent in what you’ve already been called to, rather than wasting time on what could have been, or what you think should have been.

Some men never gain traction because they refuse to walk in the calling to which they have been called. They’ve already made up their minds as to what office they should occupy, what ministry they should be called to, and although opportunities arise for them to use their gifting and walk in their callings, they ignore them outright because they think it is beneath them.

But Lord, I’m just trying to help! God doesn’t need your help. He requires your obedience.

The other day, my wife asked me to take a bunch of empty gallon jugs and other plastic bits out to the recycle bin. By the time I’d stacked them in my arms like some sort of real-life Tetris game, I realized I couldn’t open the door, so I called out to my youngest to come and open the door for me. She then proceeded to come and try to take a few of the jugs out of my arms, and wouldn’t you know it, more than half tumbled to the ground.

“Boog, I asked you to open the door,” I said, as I bent to retrieve the jugs off the floor, to which she replied, “I was just trying to help.” I didn’t get angry or raise my voice, but I did explain to her that when someone asks for a specific thing, doing something else instead of what they asked you to do isn’t helping, even if it was meant with the best of intentions.

If someone is dying of thirst and you offer them a box of Saltine crackers, the gesture itself may be considered kind and generous outside of its context, but it could hardly be considered helpful.

Some of us are so full of ourselves that we leave no room for God’s guidance, direction, or even common sense at times. It’s akin to your next-door neighbor falling and breaking their ankle, and rather than offer to take their trash cans to the end of their drive, you bring them a brand spanking new pair of ice skates. Thanks, I guess, but I could have done without them.

Do the thing God called you to do, even if your flesh whispers that you were meant for greater things. At the risk of sounding repetitive, it’s the obedience God rewards, not the magnitude of the labor.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.  

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