The prayers Jesus never prayed

According to Hebrews 5:7, During the days of Jesus’ life on earth, he offered up prayers and petitions with loud cries and tears to the one who could save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission.

There is no recorded instance of Jesus praying for something that was not granted, he always prayed knowing that his prayers would be answered favorably. He was confident that his Father could and would grant everything that he asked for.

Therefore, if Jesus did not receive something, it is because he did not ask for it, knowing that God did not want it for him. What didn’t he pray for?

That his body might be nourished by stones instead of the living Word of God, during his temptation.

That God’s angels might protect him from reckless acts.

That he might have a place to lay his head, a nice donkey to ride, or at least a rolling suitcase.

A wife to look after him, the earthly joys of home and hearth.

For God to hear him and give him what he wanted

Fire to come down and destroy his enemies, as his disciples wanted.

Shelter and a shrine to commemorate his visit with the time travelers who came to visit him and prepare him for his death.

That we might be taken out of the world, he only desired to have us protected from the evil one ruling the world.

Mercy from those who judged, condemned, beat and crucified him.

To be spared from death – he accepted his Father’s will that he die in atonement for our sins.

Psalm 106:14-15 talks about the Children of Israel, “In the desert they gave in to their craving; in the wasteland they put God to the test. So he gave them what they asked for, but sent a wasting disease upon them.”

What are you and I asking God for? Will He give in to our petulant prayers but not be pleased? What should we request from the Father?

Letter from a traveler in a far country

Dear Dad,

I just don’t understand these people, they are so pushy. First Emma puts me on the spot at the wedding. “They’re out of wine, don’t let my friends be embarrassed in front of their guests, please, son.”

And even after I tell her to chill out, that I’m not ready to go public, she still tells the servants, “Do what he tells you, “ and they run get water to be turned into wine! So what do I have to do to keep Mama happy but start doing miracles.

And then I heal the leper and tell him not to tell everybody, so I can keep on teaching in all the villages, and what does he do? Go and blab to all the lepers he knows, “this guy can heal us and restore us to being normal human beings! Run, crawl or drag yourself to him!” You’d think there was no other way to be clean, the way every leper and his cousin came out of the woodwork.

Remember when my friend was so sick, and I told my students, “its OK, we don’t have to go rushing back, he’ll be alright.” But no, they got all hot and bothered, “he’s gonna die, we know it.” And sure enough, he did, these people are so fragile, the least thing and they slip away. I had no idea how weak and sickly they are, and how everybody freaks out when someone gets sick. His sisters, you should have seen his sisters, crying and being hysterical – like they thought he’d stay dead! Dad, that really got to me. And the widow burying her only son! Talk about pushy, she was desperate. “I’m being put out on the street, he was my only hope, help me!” and now I’m going around healing the dead! Remind me to stay away from the cemeteries, they’re all popping back up.

The sick just keep pouring out of the houses. In church on Sunday I had to heal a man with a paralyzed arm because he got up and made a ruckus. You should have seen the ushers, they almost had a coronary. And the lady with cervical cancer, and the little dead girl and on and on. You’d think there wasn’t a decent doctor in the whole country!

I can’t even walk down the street without having the blind scream out, “Son of David, heal me!” I guess the eye surgeon costs too much for them and their Seeing Eye dog died! What is it with these people?

You know, Dad, you were right to send me here and live among them and see how they really live and feel. Where we live things are calm, we can take the long view and know that things are going to work out well. But people here are frantic, their lives hang by a thread, and they know it. They used to live hundreds of years, travel, learn, enjoy seeing multiple generations of descendents, but now they are like the grass and flowers which bloom for just one season. No wonder they are so impatient, so desperate. I had no idea how bad things really are for them.

You know, Dad, the only ones who aren’t happy to have me arrive, are the nasties that foul up so many hearts down here? As soon as they get near me, they scream, “Get away from us, Son of the Most High! Are you going to send us back to the abyss so soon, it’s not time yet?” Well, I guess they are the only things that aren’t happy to see me so soon, but that is not the kind of publicity I want.

Dad, I guess the worst thing is that I can’t stay here forever. How can I go back home and leave these people to keep on shriveling and dying? I’d like to teach my students how to heal and do all the neat things I do, but they hardly believe what they see me doing every day. I can give them the power to do it, but lifetimes of suffering and misery have almost destroyed their faith that we can fix things. If they would just step out in faith! Some times putting up with them almost makes me despair that they will ever catch on. There is so little time and so much to teach them. Oh no, I almost caught their desperation!

Well, thanks for listening, Dad, I feel better already.

Your loving son

My two girls that used to be very good. Tava is the bigger sister, Panchis the little sister. 

Gerry with Panchis at home in Oaxaca 

Panchis with a friend in Australia 

I used to have two "very good" daughters

God has blessed me with two beautiful daughters, and in different ways they used to be "very good".

My first daughter, Tava, was given to me and my husband in 1979, by her birth father. Her mother had died when she was 14 months old, and she had been passed around from home to home until she was almost dead. When we took her she weighted 10 lbs., at 2 1/2 years old, about to die. We took her in when our firstborn son was also 2 1/2 years old, and found that they were only 24 hours apart in age, our twins.
After Tava regained her health, she was a wonderful addition to the family, and 8 months later I had a second son, Gabriel. The three children grew up together, in our Zapotec village, Loxicha. The boys were typical boys, tearing down the house, while Tava was quieter and more gentle. The boys needed to be handled firmly, Tava responded to a simple frown. She never talked back, was always helpful, and never fussed, she was "very good".
Since we were the only Anglo family in town, with a Zapotec daughter, people would stop and talk with me on the road. "Where did you get her? Is her mother dead, where is she buried? Whose family is she? " It was impossible to hide her different roots, even if we had wanted to.
When the kids were preteens, all three got chickenpox. One of the boys got sick first, then Tava, then the other boy. Our sons didn't suffer much, since people with European roots have more immunity than Native Americans. Tava was very ill, and spend many days in bed, and I took very good care of her. When she was recovering, she commented, "I didn't expect you to take such good care of me."
I was surprised, and sought to find out what she meant. People had told her over the years, "don't give the lady any trouble, or she will throw you out." So for 10 years Tava had been good, very good, so I wouldn't throw her out of our home. I explained how much trouble we had gone through to legally adopt her so that no one could take her away from us, that we were her family for ever. It took a year and all the $ we had to make her ours, we would never give her up. Back in the 1980's in rural Oaxaca adoptions were rare, her papers are stamped 001, on page 1 of the book of adoptions for our county.
When Tava felt better, she stopped being "good" and started being a normal, fussy, picky girl. Not too much, but enough that we knew that she finally felt at home and safe.
How do you feel with God? Are you trying to be "very good" so he will let you into his home eventually? Or are you at home and safe in his love?

Panchis was also very good, in a different way.

God gave me a second daughter, also a Zapotec Indian abandoned by her family. Esperanza was born with multiple malformations which made it impossible for her mother to raise her. When we got her she was blind, deaf, and with no anus for defecation. She had lived on her body fat since birth, and weighed less than 4 pounds at 40 days old. During the first year that we had her she grew very little, since the doctors in Oaxaca had no experience with such severely deformed children. I was told over and over, "take her home to die, it is not worth trying to help her. There are other children who need our help and are worth saving."
But we had called her Esperanza, which means Hope, and put our hope in God for her life. When she had a shunt put in her brain, she began to hear, and at a year she began to see, with no medical explanation. She weighed 8 pounds at her first birthday, and soon was given a colostomy which enabled her to defecate and begin to eat better. At 2 years she could sit up and scoot around on her bottom. She never walked, never talked, and could only eat finger food by herself. For almost 11 years I carried her, diapered her, fed her, shouldered the huge burden of keeping her alive, and loved her immensly.
Among her many problems was the fact that her brain was very small, she didn't have enough neurons to do more than a year old baby could. As her body grew, she was less and less able to move or control it. In addition, her neurological condition caused her to seizure to the point of cardiopulmonary arrest. All her life someone had to be in the room with her, because she would convulse and quit breathing within a minute or two, sometimes 20-30 times a week. Life with Panchis, as we called her, was very exciting, as we had to do CPR and give her meds at the same time.
The funny thing was that people would see her in her special stroller, or sitting quietly on my lap, and remark, "Oh, she is such a good little girl! She isn't running around and climbing on the chairs, and jabbering 24/7 like my child. She doesn't get dirty, or make messes, or drive you nuts with questions. She is so good!"
Yes, she was very good, if by good you mean passive, not stretching you as a mother, never able to ask why is the sky blue, never being able to run or swing or help you bake cookies, never able to say, "Mother, I love you so much!" I would have given any thing I had to have her be "bad" and live a normal life.
Panchis isn't "very good" any more, because a year ago she died and went to heaven. Now she can jump and fly and chatter all she wants, throw kisses to Jesus, and wait for me and her family to join her.
If you have little children, don't expect them to be "good", just let them be loved, and send them forth to explore the world. That is why they are here, that is why God gave them to you.

Gerry Gutierrez, Oaxaca, June 2005