Charles Martin’s Prayer (and mine)

This is the prayer that Charles Martin, one of my favorite contemporary novelists, prayed on the National Day of Prayer.

 

“Jesus, King of Kings, Lord of Lords, the Lion of Judah, the Lamb upon the throne, the name above all names and at whose name every knee will bow and every tongue confess that you are Lord and God and King over all.  Father, we—your people boldly approach your throne of Grace asking to receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.
We bring to you the print media.  Journalists.  Feature writers.  Bloggers.  Non-fiction and fiction writers.  Lord, we bring to you the story-tellers of this age.

Father, where we have blatantly lied, where we haven’t told the truth in all its forms, where we’ve slanted or skewed the story to fit our agenda, to benefit us, where we’ve told stories that praise us and not you, where we’ve stolen glory due you, placed ourselves on the throne which is yours and yours alone, we humble ourselves, we seek your face, we repent outright and completely, we lay our crowns at your feet.  Please forgive us.  Lord please forgive us.  Give us undivided hearts that we might fear your name.  And cause us, like King David, to hide your word in our hearts that we might not sin against you.

Father, we are in desperate need of a spirit of truth.  Rain it down.  Soak us in it.  Let Truth abound and explode among us who write and then when we’ve written it, take it beyond our wildest imaginations.  Where the father of lies has hi-jacked your written word, deceived your people, and absolutely rejected your revealed truth, we ask that you muzzle him and then raise up truth-tellers to take it back.  Shine a light in the darkness.  Be salt.  Pour water for the thirsty.  No matter the cost.

Where there is an agenda that conflicts with your will, that seeks to deceive, to confuse, Lord please bring it to destruction, frustration and absolutely nothing.  Our enemy the devil wants to kill, steal and destroy.  He prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour and he’s using the words you gave us to do just that.  Lord, your word is not chained.  Make our words mighty in you, able to pull down strongholds, and cast down arguments and every high thing that exalts itself against you.  Our land is populated with giants, but we are well-able to overcome them.

Breathe new life into our imaginations and infuse the words we use with new meaning.  Then loose those words to pour life and hope into your people—to rescue the wounded.  Lord, for Zion's’ sake we will not keep quiet.  For Jerusalem’s sake we will not hold our peace.

I pray protection over each of us—the truth tellers.  Bolster our walls. Strengthen us to write without fear. Protect our families our homes, our lives, and our hearts and minds.  Give your angels charge over us.  Let your faithfulness go before us.  And let your glory be our rear guard.

Lord, you wrote the all time bestseller of all bestsellers.  Ever.  I’m pretty sure you have a tender spot for writers.  Let what we write bring you all honor and glory and praise.  Let it reflect your character.  Tell of your great glory.  Your immeasurable, boundless love for us.  Your singular redeeming sacrifice.  Use our words to make more of you and less of us.  And when you have, let the sum of them m be found worthy to fill the walls of your personal library...and when printed and bound on the shelves here, let them stand as road signs to Jerusalem.

We pray this in the matchless and magnificent name of Jesus.”