When I was in 5th grade, my class memorized a prayer that seemed like overkill. Its translation from German goes like this: “I thank You, my heavenly Father, through Jesus Christ, Your dear Son, that You have kept me this night from all harm and danger; and I pray that You would keep me this day also from sin and every evil, that all my doings and life may please You. For into Your hands I commend myself, my body and soul, and all things. Let Your holy angel be with me, that the evil foe may have no power over me. Amen.” (Luther’s Morning Prayer) Doesn’t that seem a little heavy for an 11-year-old? At that age, my biggest concerns were keeping my perfect spelling test streak alive, accurately copying down Van Halen lyrics, and getting my 80s bangs to defy gravity. I don’t think I was aware of the spiritual forces at war around me.
But there was one girl who was. Her name was Janice, and she had a reputation of being weird. For starters, Janice played the bass clarinet, and everyone knew that the only acceptable musical instruments for a girl in my school were the flute, violin, or maybe a regular clarinet, but even that was pushing it. Also, while the rest of us played street hockey or kickball at recess, Janice stayed inside. She had a broken leg, so she used her recess time to leisurely eat her lunch, work ahead on assignments, and talk loudly to God.
(Yeah, it was that last bit that did her in.)
It was a Christian school, and we all sang hymns reminding us that if we had trials and temptations, we could take them to the Lord in prayer, but Janice had the audacity to take these words literally. She called out to God when her leg was hurting, she asked for His guidance on what subject to do next, and even thanked Him for her peanut butter sandwich. (Hadn’t God been sufficiently thanked in our classroom’s mumbled prayer before lunch?) Her constant communication with the heavenly realm was unsettling.
Now that I’m older, I would give anything to be like Janice. I want to be weird and ask for God’s guidance on everything from how I should spend the next ten years to how I should leverage the next ten minutes. I want to wreck my reputation by thanking God for every blessing that comes my way instead of taking the credit myself. I want to take God literally when He tells me to rejoice always, pray continually, and give thanks in all circumstances (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18). I would risk all my popularity points to enjoy the same type of intimacy with the Almighty that Janice had.
These days I can’t deny that spiritual forces are at war. Evidence of evil and threats of harm and danger smack me like a kickball to the face every time I boot up my laptop. There is a theme of fear, mistrust and discord running through my news feed. My dreams are troubled, and I wake up with the weight of the world on my shoulders.
And the heavy prayer that seemed like overkill in middle school feels just right for today.
So today, while I’m still in bed, I thank God for keeping my loved ones safe through the night. I ask God for angelic protection from evil. I pray for the world to be healed and that we would experience a supernatural spirit of unity in our country. I put my personal agenda in God’s hands and ask Him to amend it as He sees fit. And I ask that sin would not run rampant in the world—starting in my own heart.
Janice, if you’re reading this, I am sorry I thought you were weird. You had it right all along. Please forgive my immaturity. I hope your leg healed beautifully and you continued to play the bass clarinet; I secretly always admired its dulcet tones. Most importantly, I hope you are still talking to God all the time because the world needs His wisdom and help without delay. Sincerely, Liz