I’m living dangerously.

I have a library book, and I may not return it before its due date. I’m pushing the limit, relishing the risk. Rebel, rebel.

Actually, I don’t think the library is charging fines in the pandemic, so maybe I’m not so reckless. But I am considering risk.

The book is “Dangerous Prayers” by Craig Groeschel, a pastor from Oklahoma. I found it on the new book shelf. I liked it. It is an accessible mix of anecdotes and scripture. Less than 200 pages.

And it’s challenging me.

Groeschel suggests we – and he includes himself - should be more dangerous in prayer.

“… you’re stuck in a rut. You pray about the same struggles and same requests. In the same way. At the same time … your prayers remain safe. Flat. Dull. Predictable. Stale. Boring.”

I won’t share the path Groeschel is  suggesting. That’s his to share.

But I will admit that I’m struggling to find my own path to more dangerous prayers.

I pray big prayers, I think.

I pray big prayers for other people.

I pray big prayers for projects and groups in which I’m involved.

I pray big prayers for the world, our nation, our church.

I pray big prayers in safe, confined spaces.

I pray big prayers that are limited by my imagination.

The dangerous prayers, I think, are the ones where I trust God’s imagination. And I haven’t spent much time walking that prayer path.

I finished the book more than a week ago, but I haven’t returned it yet. I keep re-reading passages, hoping to unlock a door.

I know the answer’s not in the book. I need to lift the notion in prayer.  I need to start prayer walking in the direction of dangerous. It may take a week, a month, or a year.

Lord, give me courage. Lord, give me Light. Lord, give me patience. Help me find the dangerous places.

(Photo by Kim: https://flic.kr/p/5jCPbA)