A Master's Commission Experience: Prayer Walks

My twenty eight year-old self, looks back on my time in Master's Commission with an array of emotions. I've said this before, and I'll say it again, I do not regret my time there, but I wouldn't go back. The things I've learned, I am grateful for, but I am happy to have created a life outside of Master's Commission.

Hindsight is 20/20, I know, and often times we don't see clearly until we are farther removed from an experience, but as I recall some of the things we were asked to do, I wish I had my last twenties strength at nineteen, to say, "There's no way I'm doing that."

Our schedule's were packed to the brim, without the option to decline an activity without the fear of guilt. There were several things we were asked to do that were wildly uncomfortable to me. Things to which, I should have said no.

Going on "Prayer Walks" was one of those activities.

I'll explain. There were afternoons where we would be broken up into groups of 4-5 and sent into poor and crime filled neighborhoods around Phoenix, and were told to knock on peoples' doors and ask them if they needed prayer for anything. Not much different than any other religious group knocking on your door. I cringed every time I saw "Prayer Walk" on the schedule, knowing what my afternoon would consist of. While some others were fine with knocking on the door of a stranger, I was relieved every time there wasn't an answer. Every group I was ever in would take turns between each group member with who would be doing the talking. I was always very happy not to be the one talking. I guess the whole thing made me squirm a little. I may have physically participated in the "Prayer Walks," but I can't say that it was something I jumped into with both feet mentally, emotionally, or spiritually.

I have had some thoughts swirling in my head about why "prayer walks" brought me so much discomfort, but I posed the question to a facebook group I'm in, in hopes that they could help me articulate better what my hesitancy with them was. Some of the other group members were also in Master's Commission, and I deeply valued their thoughts. The following is what I came up with after chatting with them, and putting my thoughts together.

First and foremost, safety was the hugest issue. Often times the staff members would send us 35-40 minutes away from where we were living, into areas that were unfamiliar, very poor, and considered high risk for crime, to talk to people we had never met, and would likely never speak to again. They never joined us, themselves. I don't know how well thought through these "prayer walks" were, or what the intended outcome was supposed to be, but I felt like it was irresponsible to send us to those places without much support, or without a better long term plan for those communities. I personally never experienced anything traumatic, but I was always on high alert, and hated the anxiety that swelled up in me during our walks. I distinctly remember feeling so relieved when we reached the end of our section of homes, and headed back to the car. I know that sounds horrible, but truly, I couldn't wait to be done.

Beyond the safety issue, I realized I was fighting the feeling that we were invading peoples' lives. Prayer is deeply personal. Most of the time the things that we ask for prayer about are private and very close to home. I felt like it wasn't fair to knock on someone's door and ask them to give us personal information, no matter how well-intended it may have been. Of course someone has the option to open their door or not, but I was very uncomfortable even forcing someone to make that choice. Though I believe that prayer is very powerful, I also believe that cultivating relationships with people first is far more important.  If I am going to ask someone to pray for me, I want follow up, I want questions about how things are going, I want someone to bear my burden with me, and that happens through relationships, or at least some measure of consistency. There is no way we could have done that for these people, so I just felt like a fraud, pretending to care, when I knew there wasn't much I was going to be able to do.

One of my friends who participated in the conversation, and attended Master's as well, summed up this issue for me really well. He said...
"Although I can't say that the Bible would be AGAINST doing those prayer walks, I certainly can't point to a Biblical situation where something like that was normal. It seems that most of the time, especially with Paul, the method was to go to an area, learn the culture, and then start participating in the often public dialogue in order to effectively preach the Gospel, and the growth of the church would start that way in that particular area.

Miracles and prayer and stuff like that usually were secondary focuses, and seemed to be happening in order to lend power and legitimacy to the message itself.

So perhaps the Master's Commission way in doing these prayer walks was focusing on something that is really only secondarily important."
Amen to that. Truly, I couldn't have said it better myself. It seemed to me that the most emphasis was often on the secondary things, like my friend said, and we were skipping the important ground work that needs to be laid in order for us to have the relational currency to even ask to be let into the life of another. These "prayer walks" seemed to be a "get in and get out" type of mission, instead of "let's take this community under our wing, and get to know their needs" type of mission. I believe the latter would have had a more lasting affect. I also believe we could have helped these people with tangible, material items they were desperate for like food, or laundry soap. Not that we never did for people, but consistency was key, and that was lacking. Prayer is important, but looking back, these families needed their basic needs met, not someone just to pray, then leave. Plus with our schedules dictated for us, there wasn't even much opportunity to take the time to do that, often, even if we wanted to. Or at least that was my perspective.

Lastly, I am most angry at myself. I'm angry that I didn't have the inner strength at that point in my life to say "no," even if there would have been consequences. I wish that I would have had more conviction to say that this wasn't something that I was comfortable with. The program was not necessarily set up in a way that you could say no to anything, but I wish I would have anyway. Standing up for myself and what I feel convicted by, is probably one of the best learning experiences I had there- not because I did that well, but because I didn't. I realized the consequences of not taking care of myself, and have been on a journey of doing that for the last 7 1/2 years. Speaking truth to myself is one way to take care of myself, and that is why I write about my time in Master's Commission.

I've realized that building relationships and deeply loving people is what brings about the most healing and change in people. I think these "prayer walks" would have been far more effective in a community that we were actively involved in, not just around for a day. That's the entire point to this post. Relationships matter. Relationships are essential for these type of things, and relationships are what will last.

My stint in Master's Commission took a lot out of me. The decision not to stay for a third year, and start my life with Bobby, was one of the best decisions I/we could have made. I don't have any sort of hate for Master's Commission, for I do believe that the intentions were good, but the best way that I could take of myself at that time, was to start again with an open mind and move forward to a new way of thinking. Without my time there, I wouldn't have had a reason to think differently. I wouldn't know freedom like I know it now. For that, I am strangely grateful.

Thank you to all of the friends who participated in the conversation earlier. Your thoughts helped me put mine together, and made me feel like I have a reason to keep speaking my truth. I'm glad to know you.

God Doesn't Give Us More Than We Can Handle- Really? (fyi Parenthood Spoiler Alert!)

Do you watch "Parenthood?" If you don't, you should, it's worth every minute of your time.

SPOILER ALERT- I TALK ABOUT RECENT EPISODES!

There is a character in the show that is fighting cancer and it's been a main storyline the last few weeks. I can't say enough about how well-acted this show is. You feel like you are in the middle of each character's complexity. Especially this one.

Something a character said, struck me.

In reference to his wife's cancer, Adam, her husband said this to his brother...

"I walked outside and our neighbor said, 'Remember, God won't give you more than you can handle.' Is that supposed to help me watch my wife suffer?"

And I thought, "My question exactly."

That phrase has never sat well with me. If you really play that out, it implies God is the one who is responsible for our suffering- that he orchestrates it. If he gives us the suffering, then he ceases to be loving. Those words mean that God gives us pain and hardships since he can, just because he thinks we can handle it. Some would be rebuttal with, "Well, God is using it to bring Himself glory." My response to that is this... Don't you think that there are other ways He can get glory, than by causing us to suffer? Certainly He is more creative than that. Doesn't that make God so manipulative, so cruel, and so unloving? Do we really and truly think that God WANTS people to have cancer, wants people to go through the pain of divorce, wants women to struggle with infertility, wants us to experience loss? When we say, "God doesn't give you more than you can handle," to me, that's exactly what you're saying- that God wants "this."

Truth is, we can't handle much, and that's precisely why Jesus lived and died.

I realize that when the phrase is said it's meant to be well meaning, and a source of comfort for others or for self, but Adam in Parenthood said it best when he said, "is that supposed to help me watch my wife suffer?" Regardless, of the source or reason of pain, it's still there, and you still have to walk through it. To give pat answers, only diminishes the current suffering or emotion of confusion and pain.

Can comfort be found in the midst of suffering? I believe so. But, I wouldn't want to take comfort in the one who is causing my pain, confusion, or hardship. I want to run to someone who will sit and listen, and won't try to explain away how I feel. I want someone who will help me bear it. 

I carry hope that God is truly that way, and not the author of my suffering.