In a strange and sudden turn of events—thanks to a generous financial supporter—I’ve been traveling with my husband in Asia for the last month. It’s meant meaningful conversation with some of my favorite global workers, and with strong and beautiful Jesus-lovers in some of the world’s least-reached nations.
It also means that occasionally my thoughts resemble mashed potatoes. Thankfully, staying in inexpensive hotels, I’ve had more access to swim than usual. I strap on my goggles, wrap up my humidity-crazed hair (thank you, Asia), and dip my fingertips in the water.
I am slow, but I can swim for long stretches of time as my brain detangles itself in the watery rhythms. (You might be interested in Ideas for When You’re Spiritually Distracted and Christian Mindfulness: How It’s Changing Me).
Stroke. Breathe. Stroke. Breathe.
It’s one of the only workouts where I just might lose track of time. And God and I have some peaceful talks as my mind dribbles itself out before him, lap by lap.
Journal Prompts to Deepen Your Relationship with God
Usually, journaling is my rhythm of choice to assemble my thoughts into meaningful conversation with God.
(If you like questions like these, you might like Christian Journaling Questions to Take Your Relationship With God Deeper (FREE Printable), and even these questions that I also use to take conversations with friends deeper.)
Scripture/Thanks/Please.
Scripture.
Sometimes to jumpstart my time with God, I begin by hand-copying a passage of Scripture–as an act of focus, of knowing God, of soul-alignment.
There’s something I love about writing out Bible verses. J.R. Briggs has written out the Gospels by hand, and notes here some reasons it’s so valuable. I find it beautifully slow and meditative, as words emphasize themselves which I might have otherwise overlooked.
Thanks.
Often I follow this with a brain dump of gratitudes, small and large. Sometimes it’s fun to see if I can fill a whole page, and what I’m thankful for once I stop to look.
I find it grounding to look on who God is, and on his goodness, before I focus directly on what I want to ask God for. But if prayer requests keep coming up, I can just place them on the next page in the “please” category.
Keep in mind that this is a centering exercise, with the goal of knowing God. If I’m not knowing and loving God more, the point is pretty moot.
So just like I might have patterns in relating on a date night with my husband–maybe catching up and laughing together, then diving deeper–the goal is “us.” The pattern or liturgy isn’t an end in itself.
Please, Part 1.
I love Jesus’ words to the blind man in Mark 10:51: “What do you want me to do for you?”
Considering Jesus knows all things–and that God already knows what we need (Matthew 6:8)–consider why Jesus chose to have the blind man vocalize his desire.
In The Soul of Desire, Dr. Curt Thompson writes poignantly that
Because our yearning is the fuel shame depends on to ignite and keep burning, followers of Jesus can far too prematurely dismiss desire as a source of danger.
We think we must avoid desire at all cost in order to keep away from the pitfalls of sin and the shame that accompanies it. Paradoxically, it is in naming our desire for beauty that we align ourselves with the most primal call of God, which is being broadcast from the heights of heaven and is planted in the core of our souls.
No wonder Jesus’ first words as recorded in the Gospel of John are “What do you want?” (John 1:38).
God knows we are people of desire and longs for us to name our longings so that we can get on with the business of living together in his kingdom of beauty, goodness, and joy.
As I explore what’s going on in my soul in the “please” category, it’s helpful for me to pray something along the lines of, Teach me to want. And to be as honest as I can about what I want, even if it’s quite unholy–allowing God to mold me there.
Sometimes I explore what the desire is beneath my prayers, too. Because what I pray for can also reveal a lot about my heart, and even its idols, right?
Please, Part 2.
When it comes to praying for other people, I love the idea expressed in Strengthening the Soul of Your Leadership (highly recommended!) by Ruth Haley Barton. She emphasizes that we’re joining the Holy Spirit in what he’s already praying for them (Romans 8:26-27).
She writes,
I am…careful about how I use prayer lists. Now, as I sit quietly in God’s presence daily, I see who God brings to mind and heart.
As they come into my awareness, I invite them into that place where God’s Spirit and my spirit are communing, and we sit together with that person.
If I have a list or if there are people and concerns weighing on me, I bring those, too, and we sit together with them. I don’t feel burdened by the need to figure anything out or to say words that indicate that I somehow have a handle on the situation. It is enough to share the love, the rest and the care of God with them in this way.
If words do come or if there is something that I want to ask for, I certainly feel free to say this to God, but there is no pressure to do so. Most times there is nothing for me to do or say except to hold the people and situations that are of concern to me in God’s presence and listen.
“See me.”
One morning several years ago, after what had felt like a meaningful quiet time with God, I went to kiss my husband John goodbye, my feet bare against the concrete driveway.
I don’t remember what triggered my stress-tears. Perhaps John simply asked how I was, likely hugging me; as one novelist reflected, “It’s so much easier to cry when there are arms around you.”
Maybe as he pulled out of our metal gate, and the heft and overwhelm of another day schooling our four rowdy kids there in Uganda settled on my shoulders—some pileup, perhaps, of lacking electricity or water that day, confronting poverty, suiting up for my child’s learning disorders. It’s possible I just needed a nap.
Why, I wondered, had none of this made it into my time with God?
Personally, one of the hardest parts of connecting with God can be bringing my whole self to him. It’s much (much) easier for me to do a Bible study, something checkbox-y.
In a concept that startled me, Jen Pollock Michel wrote,
communion with God…is intended to be as intimate as sexual love. Prayer is meant for undressing us, for making it possible for us to know and be known by God. Pretense in prayer is a lot like kissing with your clothes on.
I’ve realized that the intimate nature of Song of Solomon expresses not only what historically happened between a man and his wife, sanctioned by God, but acts that also symbolize God’s pursuit of and intimacy with his bride (Ephesians 5:22-33).
So I’ve started making a page in my journal titled, “See me.”
I list out intimate things about me which I invite God to see about me–who I am in that moment, physically, spiritually, emotionally, and otherwise.
Sure, God already knows. But it represents my personal response to his invitation to know me. All the way.
To be naked and unashamed, even with all my unpresentable parts. To be fully known, fully loved.
What are you afraid of?
I like the thoughtful honesty of this question.
Fear reveals a lot about me: like what I want. What parts of me don’t yet trust God, or which haven’t fully absorbed his love and goodness (1 John 4:18). Sometimes they might even reveal what I worship.
But though I fully believe God wants to convict me–to use the analogy of a date night, I don’t believe the point of my time with God is mostly to call me out. We do align ourselves with each other, for sure. But again: the purpose is to love God with all of me (Matthew 22:37-39).
What parts of my heart are hard–and why?
Often, our hearts harden in self-preservation—of something we actually need to lament, and/or something that feels vulnerable. (Think: What percentage of humanity has the courage to look their hurt in the eye, outside of judgment or blame?)
We carry a choice to process that hurt with God, allowing him to keep our wound clean[i] (which must first acknowledge the wound!). Or we can allow that fear or hurt to harden us in a way that feels safer, but is isolating, even bitter.
If this is pinging on something within you, consider checking out Angry with God? FREE Bible Study for Emotional Health (Psalm 73).
What questions is my soul asking right now?
In a similar vein, as you take time to truly listen to God, consider what your soul is really asking–what it really wants to know. Bring your questions into his sanctuary and discern his character and answers, like Asaph did in Psalm 73.
If you see yourself in a season of spiritual anger, bewilderment, isolation, or struggle right now—how would you characterize this “quest” in your life? What question(s) are you journeying to figure out?
What would I tell a compassionate friend?
In one of my favorite episodes of my favorite podcast, trauma therapist Adam Young observes that most Christians are far more compassionate with others’ souls than we are with our own.
If you’re stuck in a judgment or shame loop, ask yourself what you might say to a friend in your shoes. And that brings up my last prompt for today:
Given where I’m at today, what is God’s posture toward me?
This is one I’ve borrowed from my husband time and time again. Somehow it helps me step back and think about a loving God, rather than allowing my shame to commandeer his voice.
May your time with God find you knowing him more and being known.
Help us out!
What are some of your favorite journal prompts to deepen your relationship with God?
Comment below.
[i] Concept credited to Sharon Garlough Brown, Two Steps Forward: A Story of Persevering in Hope, InterVarsity Press, 2015, 97.
