Dear Jesus, I Need Your Help

Jesus, I need help. Nothing is certain right now. I’m trying to fight against the fear, but I’m tired.

I also might be spending too much time letting BuzzFeed guess my age based on my choices of Disney movies or my quarantine routine. My current quarantine routine pinning me as a 40-year-old did not help with my anxiety.

I don’t know where to begin, Jesus.

Our Father…

Chris Tomlin (and the Bible) say God is a good, good Father. Good fathers take care of their children even when their children can’t understand all that is happening. Maybe especially when we don’t know everything.

How beautiful and intimate that we get to call God our Father.

Help me trust your goodness when I don’t have answers.

…in heaven, hallowed be your name…

Is this a bad time to ask if I can call you Hall for short? You know my thoughts before I even think them and snicker, so it’d be pointless not to bring it up.

Sorry, I know that defeats the use of the word hallowed–meaning made holy or greatly revered and honored.

How interesting, Jesus, that you started with the intimacy of God as our Father first, and then moved to the glory and reverence His name and station in heaven demands.

Help me rest in your goodness while never forgetting your greatness.

…Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven…

Jesus, when I look at our political climate, I feel frustration and fear. I have very little confidence in our country’s leaders, but pray you give them wisdom and the humility to follow it.

I believe if you had wanted to save the world through political power, you would have overthrown the Roman government when you came the first time.

Instead you served the least of those among you. The outcasts. The sinners. You loved the poor in spirit and called out the religious leaders only concerned with their image. You fed the hungry and healed the sick. You gave hope to the broken. You died taking my punishment. You rose again defeating our worst enemy—death and sin.

How counter cultural your kingdom appears both then and now.

Help my confidence be found in you. Let your kingdom come and will be done in my heart. Proximity isn’t a prerequisite for love—show me ways to serve the community around me during this unique and pressing time.

…Give us this day our daily bread…

I doubt a toilet paper joke would go over well here.

The Israelites wandered in the wilderness for 40 years, and God provided for them daily with bread literally falling from the sky. They took enough for each day, and when they took more than they needed for a day, the excess spoiled.

Day in and day out, God reminded them of His faithfulness. Day in and day out they practiced trusting His provisions.

I’m self-isolating in a house with AC and internet and Disney+ and Netflix and clean water and plenty of food, and I’m afraid of what stepping into God-will-provide-my-next-meal-or-I-won’t-eat trust looks like.

Jesus, has my comfort and abundance hindered my ability to daily practice trusting for for provision? I’m embarrassed to admit that I have never had to trust you for my next meal.

How gracious that your provision depends on your faithfulness and character, Father.

Help my unbelief! Open my eyes to see that everything I have is from you. Grow gratitude and humility in my heart. Give me strength to fight my fears with trust and generosity.

…And forgive us our debts as we have also forgiven our debtors…

Forgiveness heals whether you’re on the receiving or giving side of the equation. That sounds trite when I’m the one who’s been wronged and has to do the forgiving though.

But then I look to you, Jesus. ‘Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.’

How eloquently your forgiveness silences my protests. Thank you.

Help me seek your forgiveness quickly when I fall. Don’t let shame keep me away. My heart is often too quickly offended—help me forgive in the humility of knowing your forgiveness.

…And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one.

We’re nearing the end of Week 3 of Social Distancing, and I’ve spent more time watching cooking or baking or building sinks out of concrete and an old pumpkin videos on Facebook than I have in prayer.

Help me identify how using social media can be life giving and foster community right now verses when I’m using it as a numbing device.

I’m reading more news articles that incite fear instead of reading more of your Word which instills peace. I seriously have no excuse not to finish my Bible-in-a-year plan this year.

Temptation can look a lot like trying to use this time to make myself more religious and less useful in your upside down kingdom. I’d rather find stillness and rest in you.

Help me desperately seek you in the Word and prayer during my newfound abundance of time. Keep me from legalism. Give me wisdom to navigate influx of constantly breaking news so that I can stay informed. Deliver me from fear of the unknown.

I’ve not become fluent in Sign Language or learned how to crochet like I had planned on Day 1 of Quarantine. I have to start my writing career. I can’t waste this time.

The evil one tells me, “The world is falling apart and if you don’t come out the other side of this thing an awesome version of the woman you’ve always wanted to be then you’re worthless, and you’ll never recover from the shame.”

Jesus, what do I do with all of this time? How do I stay afloat with the weight of the devastation happening in the world right now?  

Jesus, I need your help. You are certain right now. How do I rest in you?

Help me recognize the lies of the evil one and silence them with your truth. Help me keep my gaze on you and not the waves. Redeem this time uniquely for all of us and radically for our world as a whole.

None of us will come out of the other side of this storm looking the same—Jesus, how do I look more like you?