prayer Archives - Page 3 of 5

March 27, 2024 by Kristina Lunde Leave a Comment

Daddy’s Girl: From Hate to Belonging

Like a queen to her adoring subjects, she expounded on her topic, gesticulating as she explained how she persuaded her father to concede to her demands. She was sure her wisdom, dispensed with grandiose ideas and a bit of condescension, would impress us. Not a chance. And no, we never asked for advice on being a Daddy’s Girl.

“You know how you just look at your Dad with big eyes and he’ll melt and give you whatever you ask for?!” She expected that to resonate with us. But no, we had no idea. Standing around her lawn chair, we wondered what this large, sassy thirty-something meant by her question.

I thought about the three of us and realized why her experience meant absolutely nothing to us. One of the teenagers had been abandoned by her father very early in life. Raised by a single mother, the teenager barely knew her biological father. He had seldom contributed any money, much less time, to her or her sister as they grew up. The other teenager—my daughter—had lived for almost half of her life without her father, who died of a sudden heart attack. In addition to parenting my children without my husband, I had also grown up fatherless after my Dad died in a plane crash.

And so we stared blankly at Miss Queen-of-her-lawn-chair. We couldn’t relate to the financial riches she spoke of or the idea of a father who granted her every wish. Nor did we understand her arrogant manipulative ways. Or how she took pride in the ability to get anything she wanted out of her father. That irked me. A lot. I have always hated Daddy’s Girls.

Honestly, it’s really cute when girls are little and they have a loving relationship with their father. I used to be thrilled that my daughter and husband shared such a close relationship. I looked forward to watching my daughter’s attachment to her father grow all of her life. Until his life ended and we didn’t have him anymore.

What I despise is when a spoiled princess grows up to demand things from her father, milking him out of time, money, and whatever else she can get. That “ability,” as lawn-chair Daddy’s Girl bragged about, does not translate to successful grown-up skills. Manipulation, entitlement, and mooching will not help you develop life skills of maturity, compromise, negotiation, and working hard toward a goal.

At my recent resentment over a spoiled Daddy’s Girl—and my wording sounds much gentler than I felt—I thought about my heavenly Father. Or rather, the Holy Spirit directed my mind to my Heavenly Father. I have lived 50+ years without my earthly father, but I can look back and trace how my heavenly Father has protected, provided for, and loved me all of my life. Yes, my earthly father loved Jesus and taught me about my Savior, but my heavenly Father has spoiled me with so much more. God made the amazing sacrifice of sending His son Jesus to die for my disobedience and bitterness.

God has given me His Word to learn from and study. What a gift! Everything I need for life and living, I can find in the Bible. I can spend my life studying it and never exhaust the rich meaning and application of God’s Word to my circumstances. I talk with Him any time, confident that He hears me. Although I ask for a lot, I trust Him to answer. He may not answer like I want Him to, but I can be sure that He knows best. My heavenly Father will always guide me, even when my requests are selfish and I veer in the wrong direction.

My Lord has richly blessed me with forgiveness, salvation, redemption, sanctification (even when it hurts), and the promise of eternal life with Him. I guess I can call myself a Daddy’s Girl, a child of my Heavenly Father’s. I am proud to belong to my Abba Father.

Lord, you have given me much more than I deserve. Thank you so much for sending Jesus in my place to die for the sin I so easily commit. Please forgive me and help me to appreciate and love you. Teach me to obey, even if it requires your discipline and conviction first. I love you, my Abba, and I am honored to be your daughter. Amen.

November 30, 2023 by Kristina Lunde Leave a Comment

God’s Hope During Grief

HOPE. Four letters in an order that I could not relate to. Not after my husband Lee died. Not after I became an only parent of our two young children. How could I have hope? My partner in life, parenting, adventuring, and joy for over two decades had suddenly died. What could I hope for?!

My mother-in-law sent me those specific four letters—HOPE—on a wrought iron plaque. Too heavy. Too much to expect. So far from the depths of grief that weighed me down. Physically, logistically, and emotionally—I could not face a proclamation of hope, the issues that took priority over hope, or the grief that drowned my hope. HOPE the concept seemed impossible. But HOPE the plaque was an elegant piece with four serif caps resting on artistic swirls.

I looked at the plaque and remembered Jeremiah 29:11, “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” The next two verses describe a strategy I had already used in my grief: “Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart,” Jeremiah 29:12-13. Hope was more than I could muster on my own, but I decided that God could be trusted to have hope for me.

Although my resources felt depleted by grief, I knew God’s love and power could give me hope. So I hung that plaque on my kitchen wall, across from my morning Bible-reading spot. God’s hope and emotional healing did not come quickly, nor did my grief disappear. Those four letters stared me in the face every day, reminding me to trust God for hope. And I did: slowly, verse by verse, and prayer by prayer. I cracked my Bible daily, completed my study lessons, and prayed to the source of my comfort and hope. And God answered—in His way and in His timing.

After experiencing God’s hope and comfort through grief, I now have the privilege of praying for others. When I pray for people in need of hope, I again go to God’s Word for insight:

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. Romans 15:13

Not only does God give hope, but He provides comfort, joy, and peace beyond what we can imagine. God did that for me all the way through my grief and sorrow. (For the full story, see my memoir and sequel.) I have experienced these gifts from God, and I challenge you to ask God for them, too. May the God of hope give you overflowing hope, joy, and peace as you trust in Him through your pain.

December 31, 2022 by Kristina Lunde Leave a Comment

Prayer & Architecture on a Clinic Visit

Snow patches dot the roof as gray clouds obliterate any hint of sun. Despite the drab skies, floor-to-ceiling windows usher light into the laboratory waiting room of Mayo Clinic’s Gonda Building. People file out of elevators, line up at the reception desk, and then take a seat in the sea of chairs. They wait to surrender their blood, the vital fluid that will direct diagnostic and treatment decisions. My friend K similarly hopes that her what, why, and how medical questions will be answered by laboratory results.

I join K to chauffeur, support, and take notes during her visit to Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota. My God-given responsibility is to pray for her as she faces two days of tests, scans, and appointments. Injected with radioactive materials and other chemicals for picture-taking, K undergoes hi-tech scanning. I pray for clear-cut, sliced-and-diced pictures of K’s tumor that will map out cancer treatment options. All that information will be funneled into the final evaluation by the world-renowned oncology surgeon. He will decide whether he can excise the tumor—or that he cannot offer surgical treatment.

After K marches back to meet the vampires, I become distracted from praying by the eclectic architecture. Outside the third floor window, the hospital’s exterior structure consists of gray marble panels and steel window frames. These surfaces intersect a narrow flat roof that obscures the streets below. Beyond the roof, Gothic arches line the top floor of a grand old building. That limestone structure reflects in the wall of windows across the street. The windowed modern building contains a vertical panel of concrete that brutally contrasts with both of its antique neighbors.

Finally, I tear my focus away from the inanimate to pray for K—only to be distracted again. The next architectural masterpiece in my line of vision holds gargoyles, griffins, and other statues. A rooftop flag ripples in the pre-blizzard winds, providing the only visible movement above the urban street. Tiles, mini-balconies, and other bric-a-brac ornamentation embellish every visible horizontal and vertical surface.

My excitement over urban architecture fades when K comes out of the lab. K, a strong woman who survived an intense triple regimen of tumor-poison, chooses the stairs over the elevator. I join her march up the seven flights to her surgical oncology appointment. In the exam room, the primary surgeon surprises everyone by arriving an hour early to the appointment. Other professionals enter the room. The moment of truth arrives as photos of K’s innards fill the computer monitor screen.

The practitioners describe the tumor’s response to chemotherapy in glowing adjectives. The surgeon presents the outcome of K’s chemotherapy: surgery is now an option. Briefly, I raise my hands heavenward to the God who answers prayers, and then I resume my note-taking. Looking at the scan as if it were a map, the surgeon plans and describes his surgical path. He traces his intended journey into the organ, around the tumor, and through neighboring structures. K smiles along with the entire team.

Thank you, God, for guiding K’s chemotherapy, making it work, and providing the previously unthinkable option of surgery. Please keep your healing hand on K. Guide her medical team and give her the treatments and care that she needs. Help me to love, support, and pray for K as you intend. Thank you, dear Lord, for miracles that don’t depend on feeble human prayers easily distracted by urban architecture. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

November 30, 2022 by Kristina Lunde Leave a Comment

Psalm 23 Kids’ Prayer

Yay God—you’re my shepherd! I don’t need anything, because you take good care of me.

Thanks for giving me places to eat, drink, and rest.

You energize me! Help me obey you, in Jesus’ name.

Even when things get bad, I don’t need to be afraid, because you’re always with me. I like it when you fight my enemies and pull me close to you.

When the bad guys are all around me, you do all kinds of cool things to love and support me.

Thanks for the good stuff you give me while I live here and when I—for sure!—go to heaven.

I love you, my good shepherd God! In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Psalm 23 ESV

1 The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
2 He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters.
3 He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
4 Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
5 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD forever.

Note: For a grown-up prayer of Psalm 23, see https://kristinalunde.com/psalm-23-prayer/

September 28, 2022 by Kristina Lunde Leave a Comment

Psalm 23 Prayer

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. Psalm 23:1

Lord, thank you for being my shepherd and providing everything I need and want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. Psalm 23:2

Lord, guide me to your chosen places for rest and nourishment. Quench my thirst with your living water.

He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Psalm 23:3

Please revive me from the inside out, Lord God. Pull me back from my sheep-like wandering to follow only you, in Jesus’ name.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. Psalm 23:4

Thank you for navigating me through death’s dark shadows. Help me to recognize your constant presence, so that I will not be afraid. Thank you for shepherding me with your rod and your staff: you protect me from my enemies and yank me back when I stray.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Psalm 23:5

Even when enemies surround me, Lord God, you set me up to feast on your goodness. You pour out your anointing on me, beyond what I can contain. Lord, I am grateful.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever. Psalm 23:6 ESV

Lord, I have confidence in your goodness and love, which will accompany me throughout my life on this earth. Thank you, Lord God, for the certainty of living with you in your presence forever. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Note: For a kids’ prayer of Psalm 23, see https://kristinalunde.com/psalm-23-kids-prayer/