When it comes to prayer I feel like such a beginner . . . even after all these years. But one wonderful thing about prayer is that it is something I can do anytime, so there are no time boundaries to prayer. And Romans 8 tells us that the Holy Spirit prays for us. So in that way prayer is something in which Christians have a “built-in” expertise, because the Holy Spirit is right there, indwelling us and groaning with words that can’t be uttered. And at the right hand of the Throne is our Lord Jesus, interceding to the Father for us.

For these reasons and many others, there is great power in prayer! I’m only just learning this, because perhaps in the past I have misdefined “power”. I believe prayer unleashes what God has already planned to unleash, it answers the call that God has already put forth, it is a lifting up to him what he has already given to us. It is the bold entrance, emboldened through his great rescue. And it is so much more that I still can’t comprehend.

Prayer is an amazing way for us to love others. There are people that I never see anymore but I still can love them – and not just in my memories but in reality and in a way that affects them contemporaneously – by praying for them.

I’ve been thinking through these things because I’m learning more and more to treasure those moments of prayer and intercession that I am afforded, and to find those moments in the most unlikely places. Basically, anytime there’s a quiet moment. Anywhere.

“There is nothing that makes us love a man so much as praying for him.”

– William Law

Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord!

O Lord, hear my voice!

Let your ears be attentive

to the voice of my pleas for mercy!

If you, O Lord, should mark iniquities,

O Lord, who could stand?

But with you there is forgiveness,

that you may be feared.

I wait for the Lord, my soul waits,

and in his word I hope;

my soul waits for the Lord

more than watchmen for the morning,

more than watchmen for the morning.

O Israel, hope in the Lord!

For with the Lord there is steadfast love,

and with him is plentiful redemption.

And he will redeem Israel

from all his iniquities.

– Psalm 130 (ESV)

I love this Psalm.

It got me thinking. We are all, truly, waiting for the morning, aren’t we? I’ve experienced what I consider some bright mornings here on earth. But I don’t know – maybe I don’t really know what “bright” is.

There is a part of my soul that is waiting. Waiting for the Lord’s bright dawn, with more expectancy and longing than a watchman waits for the morning. Because the Lord is really the only One we can truly hope in, with every assurance that our hope will not disappoint.

That’s why the Psalmist exhorts Israel to wait for the Lord. In him alone is steadfast love, and plentiful, bountiful redemption.

I love redemption!

And deep down I know that all the brightest mornings I can ever experience here will seem dull and shabby compared to the bright Morning that is to come.

You have turned for me my mourning into dancing; you have loosed my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness, that my glory may sing your praise and not be silent. O LORD my God, I will give thanks to you forever!

– Psalm 30:11-12 (ESV)

As someone with very few dancing skills, I’ve often looked at the act of dancing from the sidelines, wondering just what it is that posesses humans to engage in the behavior. Jill and I were at Gruene Hall in Gruene, Texas last week (oldest dancehall in Texas, reportedly) listening to Two Tons of Steel and watching the patrons cut some major rugs. It was amazing how good some of them were, spinning and whirling each other around the floor. We ourselves danced a simple two step, which was neat as I always love dancing with my wife.

But dancing is not something that comes natural for me. Yet Psalm 30 talks about the transformation that God can bring in our lives, turning our mourning into dancing. Can you believe it? In the midst of grief, as the long forgotten sun rises on a new morning that you could not fortell, you can be dancing for joy. And it is a joy made deeper, fuller, and sparkling with a thankfulness and wisdom that would be impossible without the grief. Joy is the redemption of grief. And it makes us dance! Because, you know, we say it often enough but let this sink in: He loves us!

When one of his creations wakes up to joy after a dark night of the soul and begins dancing for joy, I believe the Lord beams. He laughs, he himself rejoices and exults over his beloved. You see, this is what he does, and this is why he died and rose again. It was for his glory and our joy.

Only he can do this. I know some who are passing through their own dark nights; people for whom the morning is a long-forgotten fable. I pray that soon they will be dancing for joy at their beautiful and timely redemption from God’s hand. I pray that when I too face the darkness I’ll remember.

Sackcloth is not our permanent garment.

Mourning will not last. It will be transformed to joyful laughter.

Darkness is only for a season. It cannot abide the Light, and melts away in the Presence of the Holy One.

If you’re a child of God, gladness and joy is your destiny.