Four Simple Steps to Getting a ‘Yes’ from God

by Angela Sanders | Feb 25, 2016

“In Jesus’ name, Amen.”

When I was little, this was a decorative phrase, a finishing touch that made me feel like one of the grownups who prayed out loud in church. Speaking it, I felt big and half-wished we were Catholic so I could cross myself.

Later on, I read Jesus’ promise to give us whatever we ask for in His name (John 14:13), and my speaking of the phrase became a superstitious effort, the prayerful equivalent of crossing my fingers or, as my grandmother would say, holding my mouth just right.

Still, I seldom got what I asked for, at least not in the way I expected it.

It didn’t shake my faith, exactly. I knew that God was more than capable of answering my prayers with a yes. I knew all of the verses that told me so. I just assumed that I was doing something wrong, but rather than making the effort to figure out what, I fell back on the commonly held idea that God answers all of our prayers with a yes, no, or wait and delved no deeper into the concept or discipline of prayer other than to file quickly God’s answers into one of those convenient categories.

I learned nothing. Nothing about God. Nothing about myself. Nothing about the miraculous transformation that prayer can bring about in the human heart.

Still, for many years, I soldiered on, praying prayers that resembled Christmas wish lists, accepting with content resignation God’s no’s, and hoping against all hope for a yes now and then, pleasantly surprised and a little shocked when I got one.

The prayers of my own children made me nervous. They asked for things. Boldly. Things like nice weather, help with spelling tests, and for people they loved to get well. Inside, I cringed each time, wishing they hadn’t, as these were precisely the kind of prayers that had consistently received big, fat no’s from God on my part, and I didn’t want my children to be disappointed. I didn’t want them to love God less, lest they choose not to trust Him for their eternal salvation later down the line.

You see, I didn’t trust God, and that was the problem.

My prayer life to that point was a safe one, a clear, bullet-proof, plexi-glass window through which I communicated safely—and somewhat ineffectively—with God, He the inmate, dangerous and “contained,” and I the visitor, dutiful, yet safe.

Safe from what? Jumping in, diving deep, getting mixed up in who God was and what He wanted to accomplish. I had heard that “the prayer of a righteous man” was “powerful and effective,” you see (James 5:16), so I knew that to pray real prayers, to communicate with God the way He intended, was to become an integral part of something bigger than I, something completely out of my control.

Through a series of circumstances I would never have chosen for myself, God began to teach me about prayer. These days, I’m swimming in it—dog-paddling anyway—and am learning so much. I know from watching those who have been at it for a while that I’m still a novice and that the waters I’m swimming in get much deeper.  Nonetheless, I’ve gained a little knowledge—even if I’ve not perfected the discipline—and I’d like to pass it on to you.

Want to get a yes from God? In no particular order, here are four simple steps to that end. Note that they are not mutually exclusive as some would have you believe. You don’t get to pick and choose.

1. Pray with the right motive.

“You want something, but you don’t get it…You do not have because you do not ask God. When you ask, you do not receive because you ask with the wrong motives, that you may spend what you get on your pleasures” (James 4:2-3).

What’s the right motive? The same as God’s, His glory, or perfection on display (Eph. 1:11). Simply care more about advancing His reputation for perfection than you care about gaining, accomplishing, or preserving anything else. It’s a tall order, but Jesus did it (John 17:4, Phil. 2:8). Why should God not expect it of us, we who owe our very lives to Jesus’ obedience?

2. Live an obedient life.

“Dear friends, if our hearts do not condemn us, we have confidence before God and receive from Him anything we ask, because we obey His commands and do what pleases Him” (1 John 3:21-22).

Would you give a willful, disobedient child what they asked for? Neither would God, apparently.

3. Pray according to God’s will.

“This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to His will, He hears us. And if we know that He hears us—whatever we ask—we know that we have what we have asked of Him” (1 John 5:14-15).

This requirement goes beyond motive, or the desire that drives our requests. To pray according to God’s will is to know what His will is and ask for it to come to pass. As this is what He has purposed to do anyway with or without our input, albeit by means other than He might choose if we pray, our participation in the process is an opportunity to learn and take part in a miracle. It’s like having a hand on the wheel when riding with a NASCAR driver. Of course, in order to pray according to God’s will, you have to know what God’s will is. Fortunately, He’s told us. All we have to do is read the Bible. If we aren’t willing to do that, do we even deserve the promise of a guaranteed yes? No.

4. Pray in faith.

“I tell you the truth, anyone who has faith in me will do what I have been doing…And I will do anything you ask in my name, so that the Son may bring glory to the Father. You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it” (John 14:12-14).

This is the passage that used to hang me up. Faith in what? That I would get what I asked for? Unless I am 100% certain that what I’m asking for is absolutely God’s will in every detail, such as might be the case when someone prays Scripture directly, this kind of faith amounts to little more than wishing with your eyes squeezed shut.

No, Jesus said, “[Have] faith in me.” To pray in faith is to pray against the backdrop of what we know to be true of God and what we know to be true of Jesus, trusting that God is able and willing to bless His children in keeping with His will and that Jesus will honor any request that comes from a sincere desire to glorify to the Father. To pray in His name is to pray as we believe Jesus did and would in our current situation.

I said they were simple. I didn’t say they were easy.

Friends, prayer isn’t about getting God to do what we want Him to do. It’s about learning to release our will in trade for His (Matt 26:39), adopt His eternal perspective (2 Cor. 4:18), and work toward goals that have little to do with the physical and everything to do with the spiritual (Matt 10:39).

So, what do we do about those Christmas list prayers? Stop praying them? No, not necessarily. We learn by doing, and practice makes progress. God doesn’t want us to become timid or hesitant in our prayers. In fact, He tells us to approach His throne with confidence (Heb. 4:16) like children (Matt 18:3). Why? So He can teach us.

As He already knows the dust we’re made of (Psalm 103:14), I suggest we pray continually (1 Thess. 5:16) about everything (Eph. 6:18), just as He has told us to do. Then, instead of quickly filing His responses into handy yes, no, and wait boxes without thought, let’s examine them against the truths above and consider why God chose to answer the way that He did. Only by doing so will we learn, understand, change, and grow into the powerful prayer warriors God created us to be. I have a feeling, by then, getting a yes from God won’t matter nearly as much as knowing Him even better.

The Problem with Trying to Do a Good Job: For Every Minister’s Wife

by Angela Sanders | Feb 11, 2016

Nothing sets a person up for failure more effectively than an intense desire to do a good job when the definition of that “good job” is vague, subjective, and a matter of public interest.

I ought to know.

I am a minister’s wife, and from day one, I’ve wanted few things more than to wear that title well, for my husband, my church, and myself.

Now, before you start “tsk-tsk”-ing me and pointing out problems with the statement I just made, let me save you the trouble and admit that some of my thinking early on—and intermittently over the years—has been skewed.

Truthfully, it wasn’t until my husband stepped out of the local church to minister on a denominational level, an arena in which I play a smaller role in the day to day workings of his ministry, that I was able to gain some perspective on the years that I spent in the trenches. Looking back with fresh—and rested—eyes, I see now that much of the struggle I thought was inherent to the position I held could have been avoided and that much of the heartache I experienced was self-inflicted and unnecessary.

Although I’m told that God was faithful to work through my husband and me and we share wonderful memories of our ministry together when he was on local church staff, I would change a few things if I had it to do over again.

For the benefit of my sisters in the trenches now, here is a short list of things that I did wrong:

I tried to groom my husband. Prune. Shape. Mold. Manipulate. Call it what you will, I was trying to do God’s job, not because I didn’t think He was capable, but because I honestly thought I could help.

It started the Sunday my husband assumed the interim youth minister position in my home church. I wanted so badly to see him succeed. Standing at the back of the room with adults who had been my Sunday school teachers, public school teachers, and mentors, I listened to Todd lead his first youth worker meeting, wanting desperately for them to see in him what I saw and to love him just as much.

So proud of him I felt I might pop, I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face. Then, unaware of my proximity, a man near me, one that I had admired for many years, muttered a scathing criticism of my husband to the person on the other side of him. My stomach flipped. My face went hot. Trying desperately to hold the smile that had been involuntary just moments before, I blinked and blinked again, fighting desperately the hot tears that threatened.

Overwhelmed with love and a sense of duty to my husband, I determined then and there that I could help. After all, my husband didn’t know these people like I did. He hadn’t been raised in the church from day one as I had. He wasn’t familiar with how things worked behind the scenes. The daughter of a deacon, I thought I was.

Now, my husband would tell you that I did help, but I know in my heart that a potentially destructive pattern of snipping and tweaking began to develop that day, one that would, at times, temporarily draw my husband’s focus from the Lord to me, squelch his creativity, and stir doubt and insecurity in his mind.

Over time, as my husband gained experience, he grew more confident and consulted me less, but I still found it difficult not to meddle beyond what was appropriate, even as the Holy Spirit told me not to. Eventually, with the Lord’s help and my husband’s growing awareness, I broke the habit completely. Today, I very seldom feel the urge to “help” the way I once did, and we function much more effectively as a team. When I do feel the urge to snip here or tweak there, I resist, it passes, and I’m always glad I gave God room to work in His timing.

I tried to please church members. Besides being plain wrong, as Scripture tells us that trying to please men renders us ineffective servants of Christ (Gal 1:10), this is a futile effort if ever there was one.

You simply cannot please everyone all the time. Believe me! I tried. Not only did it wear me out physically, as I’m sure I often took on much more than God intended for me to, but it exhausted me emotionally, breeding in my heart a certain level of distrust of my brothers and sisters in Christ.

To protect myself and my family, I held even those who truly loved me unconditionally—I see now that there were many—at arm’s length so as not to give them opportunity to hurt me or alter my good opinion of them. Looking back, my heart aches to think of the friendships I could have enjoyed and the memories I could have made had I focused on pleasing God only and trusted Him to use the fall-out of that obedience for my good and His glory (Rom 8:28).

I played the church game. To win at any game, players must employ strategy to score points and defeat their opponents. By this definition, the church is no place for games!

For one thing, as followers of Christ indwelt by the same Holy Spirit, we are all on the same team and share a common goal to reach lost souls with the Gospel for God’s ultimate glory. To compete with one another, spiritually, socially, or in any other way, is to destroy the Body we together form from the inside out like an auto-immune disease and hinder Kingdom work.

Strategy? Points? Truthfully, none of us should even understand what makes these terms relevant and applicable within the construct of this metaphor, but we do.

While I never played the church game to defeat anyone—at least I don’t think I did—I did play it to defend myself from time to time, and that angers me. Too weak in my faith to rely on God alone to be my Defender, I postured and positioned to keep the advantage when I felt threatened.

As a result, I grew fearful, skeptical, and cynical, my walk more closely resembling the cautious side-step of a soldier dodging landmines than the graceful stride of a daughter of the King of Kings. Mentally, emotionally, and spiritually weary, for a time, I isolated myself and taught my children by example to be on their guard, focusing more on their behavior than their spiritual condition, something that took quite a bit of effort and time to undo.

Thankfully, God is faithful and has healed the wounds I caused by putting myself in a game that shouldn’t exist, a game I wish with all my heart I’d never played.

They say that hindsight is 20/20, and I believe it.

Back when the struggle was real, I thought my heart and its desires were pure. I wanted to see His Kingdom expand. What could possibly be wrong with that?

Motive.

I did want to see God move, but not always for His glory. Deep down, I wanted my husband to look good. I wanted my church to look good. Let’s be real! I wanted to look good, and that’s where the trouble began.

My dear, sweet trench-mate, please don’t follow in my footsteps. Remember, before you are a minister’s wife, you are the Father’s child, called to worship Him through obedience to His Word for His glory, not your husband’s, not your church’s, not your own, but His!

When you make His glory your goal over doing a “good job,” the pressure to perform dissipates, and the fact that He alone is capable of bringing His glory about makes it easier to submit, obey, and leave the results up to Him, regardless of what’s going on around you. The fact that He will bring it about, with or in spite of you, brings peace (Eph. 1:11), curbing the desire or perceived need to do any of the things listed above.

These days, I’m making a conscious effort to focus on God’s glory in and above all things. The results, so far, have been a driving sense of purpose that surpasses anything I have ever known and a freedom I never knew existed. I do slip into old habits sometimes—more often than I want to admit—but He is always faithful to forgive and redirect.

Am I doing a “good job”? I really couldn’t say, but I know that HE is!

Is it a sin to be scared?

by Angela Sanders | Jan 26, 2016

2015, for me, was a year of extreme blessing and extreme disappointment, at least from my limited perspective. While I was humbled and encouraged by the grace that God lavished on me and my family in some areas, His choice not to answer prayer the way I hoped He would in other areas effectively held the calm I craved just out of reach.

Like a ding-dong-ditcher, the undeniable truth of human frailty and physical weakness has hounded me for a long, long time, startling me at unexpected moments and sending my heartbeat into adrenaline-induced iambic pentameter so often that my chest sometimes feels sore.

Now, there was a time in my life when I would have deemed this response to external circumstances a symptom of spiritual sickness, but not anymore. If nothing else, God’s allowing me and my loved ones to endure circumstances and afflictions we’d rather not has taught me much about fear and faith, and while there are those who would tell you that to experience what I just described is to sin, I disagree.

The “fight or flight” response in human beings is real, and you can’t fault an individual for experiencing it any more than you can fault them for needing to eat or sleep or for feeling sorrow or happiness. Adrenaline, hormones, electrolytes, chemicals, endorphins, blood-sugar levels, etc., they control our physical and emotional lives to a certain degree, so it’s only fair that we classify these often uncontrollable factors as external circumstances when discerning spiritual matters and diagnosing spiritual condition.

Yes, God said, “fear not” (Isaiah 41:10), but emotion does not equal fear. To fear is to choose to live in submission to or be controlled by something or someone. To “fear the Lord” (Psalm 34:9) is to submit to and be controlled by Him, an appropriate response considering Who He is. It’s a good thing. When God said, “fear not,” he meant that we should not allow ourselves to be controlled by the Enemy—a bad thing—but rely on Him because He alone is sovereign and all-powerful. The choice not to fear is a conscious one made in spite of the unavoidable initial adrenaline rush that external circumstances can cause. Take this idea into consideration the next time you try to make sense of 1 John 4:18.

Likewise, peace—not to be confused with calm, although calm often follows peace—is a matter of discipline, not emotion. When the unwanted and/or unthinkable happens, I have two choices. I can let my mind run wild, entertaining what-if’s and if-only’s until I’m a flush-faced, paralyzed mess, or I can “take every thought captive and make it obedient to Christ” (2 Cor. 10:5), walking confidently in the Truth of God’s Word in thought and in practice and letting my heart rest, regardless of the emotion that ebbs and flows in my belly as external factors poke and pester.

Jesus said, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid” (John 14:27).

By dying on the cross and rising from the grave, Jesus lifted those of us who put our faith in Him above the world’s control and wrenched us from the Enemy’s grip. No matter what happens to our physical bodies, our souls are secure. We belong to God, and His Spirit lives within us. What’s more, this breath of a life we live is insignificant compared to the eternal glory that awaits us in Heaven, facts that make the difficulties of the here and now more bearable, bring us peace, and settle our hearts when we fix our eyes on Jesus (2 Cor. 4:18). The trick is in the fixing!

Nothing the world offers brings the kind of peace that eternal security in Christ brings, no matter how much money we pay or how much time we invest. Relationships, therapies, chemicals, they are poultices that wear off and must be reapplied. None reach the heart like Jesus. None heal the soul like He does. Now, that’s not to say that it’s wrong for a Christian to seek therapy or accept treatment for the external factors that plague us and cause our outsides to quake even as our hearts grow still. Quite the contrary.

Jesus also said, “If your right hand causes you to stumble, cut it off and throw it away” (Matt. 5:30).

Nothing is more important than pursuing God and living out one’s calling. Nothing. If legitimate treatment for the physical, mental, or emotional condition that keeps a Christian from pursuing God as He desires exists, that Christian, in my opinion, is not only justified in seeking that treatment, but obligated to do so, as long as that treatment does not dull, distract, or hinder them spiritually, so they can get back to the business of whole-hearted pursuit.

Agree or disagree, but beware of the self-righteous tendency to dismiss or belittle those who process things differently than you do or think you might. Emotional response to painful circumstance is not necessarily an indicator of spiritual immaturity, but instead proof that life is hard and we need Jesus. Pray for those who struggle—don’t judge—and help them fix their eyes on the One who offers peace!