Never Forsaken: Speaking to God as to a Friend

 

Whenever the people saw the pillar of cloud standing at the entrance to the tent, they all stood and worshiped, each at the entrance to their tent. The Lord would speak to Moses face to face, as one speaks to a friend. Then Moses would return to the camp, but his young aide Joshua son of Nun did not leave the tent.  Exodus 33:10-11

 Have you ever heard the phrase, “Familiarity breeds contempt” or its counterpart, “You don’t know what you have until it’s gone”? Sometimes we become so used to a really special, wonderful thing, that we no longer see its special wonderfulness. It’s just regular, the way it is supposed to be. This morning, I’m considering this when it comes to prayer.

 Moses had the privilege of speaking to God face to face as a man does with a friend. This was such a wonderful and amazing thing that, when Moses went to the tent of meeting to do this, all the people would come and stand at the entrance to their tents and worship God. Imagine if this happened today. If, every time you prayed, your neighbors came out of their homes and stood outside and worshiped God until you finished. That would certainly make you see prayer differently, wouldn’t it?

 But, you see, when we pray it is very much like when Moses met with God. I imagine that he heard from God much more clearly, distinctly, than I do, but he had the privilege of speaking to God as one does to a friend, and I do too. I actually speak to God even more intimately than I do with my closest friend. I can tell Him about anything without having to worry about offending Him or saying it wrong, because He knows my heart. I can be honest about my fears and concerns without worrying about overly burdening Him because He has the broadest of broad shoulders and can handle it all. I can worship Him with my whole heart without worrying about coming on too strong or overwhelming Him, because I don’t have a chance of that. Truly, God is closer to me than my closest friend!

 I wonder, though, if in that closeness, if in the ease with which I come to God and the frequency I get to enjoy it, I have come to lose appreciation for the gift that it is. So often I see prayer taught as something you should do or you are supposed to do. Often, when I am given directions like that, I tend to avoid the task. If I am supposed to do something, it can’t be very enjoyable, can it? If it was, then why would I be given the instruction instead of being drawn to it? I know this isn’t the case for everybody, but you don’t have to tell me I’m supposed to eat. I know that eating is good and good for me, and I very much enjoy doing it. Perhaps I enjoy it too much. It’s not something you have to talk me into; it’s something I look forward to. Much in the same way, I love prayer. I revel in the relationship I enjoy with my Heavenly Father. It is much more to me than food. It brings me even more joy than coffee, and if you know me, you’ll know that’s a high bar!

Here’s the Thing: Do I lose track of what a privilege prayer is? Certainly. I don’t often consider the value of my breath or my heartbeat either, not until it doesn’t work as it should anyways. But this is a good reminder, and I will endeavor to keep in mind the special blessing that being able to speak to my Heavenly Father as one does to a friend is.