The Sound of Prayer: Day 7
“Then you will call, and the LORD will answer; you will cry, and He will say, “Here I am””. Isaiah 58:9
Cry – What does it sound like when you pray? Are your prayers civil, reserved, circumspect? Are they rituals of propriety, head bowed, eyes closed? Do you pray as though you were standing in the presence of a fearful king, not willing to raise your voice or your eyes? Well, it’s time to revise praying.
This Hebrew word (shawa) is only used four times outside of Psalms and Proverbs. In thirteen of its twenty-two occurrences, it is a personal cry for help. Along with one other Hebrew word (za’aq), this word is the emotional capstone of prayer. It is prayer when all the formalities fail. It is prayer when my heart is broken, when my life is in danger, when I can’t see my way out. It is intensity praying, tears streaming from my eyes, voice faltering, gulping air between sobs, when all I have left to say comes from words too deep to speak. Shawa. I cry. “Lord, help me!”
Do you pray like that? Do you turn your face to heaven or fall with your face to the ground and utter shawa, “Lord, help me”? Prayer is supposed to be the truest form of dependency. The act of praying is a demonstration of confidence in the provision of God. It is the exhibition of His trustworthiness in the face of our frailty. If you have never prayed from this place within your heart, perhaps you have missed the experience of the God who cares for you. Perhaps you only serve the icon God, the one who is symbolized in our statues and crosses. The icon God is not Yahweh, El-Shaddai, the All Powerful, compassionate One. The God who says hinneh (Here I am) is the God that you know in the deepest, most intimate way. The living God who shelters you.
David knew this God of compassion. He uses the word shawa many times in the Psalms. Job knew this God too. Eight times shawa shows up in his story. What about you and I? Are we so immune from the trials of life that shawa is not in our vocabulary? Or have we been seduced by the icon God, the one who presides over bigger things in life but isn’t ready to hear our woeful cry? When you pray, do you expect God to put an arm around your shoulder and get on His knees alongside you? Or does your God only look down from heaven and correct your grammar?
These days we need to make shawa the leading edge of prayer. All the rest is filler.
Will you cry out with me today?
