Tuesday, May 12, 2026

Praying When I am Angry with God

When I am angry with God, I get really honest, raw, clear with God about how I am feeling. In my prayers, I tell God how I feel and why. I express to God in no uncertain terms the ways I think God has let me down. I remember and rehearse to God the ways that God has helped and blessed others, and I wonder aloud: “Why do you, O Lord, choose not to help me?!?! It’s not fair.”

In those honest prayers, in my anger, in my hurt, in my wondering why God seems absent, I am joining my voice with the voices of the faithful who came before me. I am not the first one to be angry with God.

The Psalms contain similar gut honest prayers to God: 
  • prayers to seek to hold God accountable, 
  • prayers that are raw with pain, disappointment, grief, frustration, despair, 
  • prayers that express the depth of human suffering to the divine heart. 
Two examples are below:

Psalm 13:1-3 (CEB)
How long will you forget me, Lord? Forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long will I be left to my own wits,
agony filling my heart? Daily?
How long will my enemy keep defeating me?
Look at me!
Answer me, Lord my God!

Psalm 77:6-9 (CEB)
I meditate with my heart at night;
I complain, and my spirit keeps searching:
“Will my Lord reject me forever?
Will he never be pleased again?
Has his faithful love come to a complete end?
Is his promise over for future generations?
Has God forgotten how to be gracious?
Has he angrily stopped up his compassion?”

Also see The Book of Lamentations and The Book of Job and the prophet Jeremiah.

I find all of these to be sources of encouragement for such an honest, raw prayer to God, even blaming God. Perhaps most profound is the prayer from Jesus’ own lips on the cross: 
Jesus is quoting the pathos filled Psalm 22. Since Jesus can pray such a prayer, so can I. And I do.

What I find interesting is that my yelling out to God in my anger, grief, overwhelm, displeasure, etc.,  reveals that I believe God is big enough and God cares enough to hear my cry, and that God is able to respond and make things right, or at least, comfort me in my distress. Otherwise, I would just remain silent.

If Paul is right that “nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” Romans 8:39, then God, in fullness of love, hears my anger and responds with love, whether I am ready to receive it or not.

So that why I keep praying, keep being raw and honest, and keep holding on to God with tenacity, saying, “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief.” Mark 9:24

Monday, May 4, 2026

Bad Dreams and Good Ones

Dad,
You said, "It was a bad dream."
You said, "It was both sad and scary."
Those were all the details you gave.

I wonder what a better dream would be for you?
Milking cows on your childhood farm,
Harvesting tobacco,
Or perhaps enjoying an olive nut sandwich at the soda fountain in Danville, KY.
Or fishing with your grandfather Hopper in Jupiter Florida...

You sleep more these days.
Sometimes I sit beside you and count the seconds between your breaths.
I know you are transitioning from life on earth to life beyond.

When the time comes,
I know you will be ready.
I expect my brother will be waiting to welcome you.
I wonder what it will be like for you to meet your father who died in WW2 when you were a baby.
I expect there will be joyful reunions and questions finally answered.

Bad dreams come and go.
Good dreams too.
When the time is right,
you'll know. 
So for now rest in the comfort that you are loved, and all will be well.

O Lord,
support us all the day long,
until the shadows lengthen
and the evening comes,
and the busy world lies hushed,
and the fever of life is over,
and our work is done.
Then in your mercy,
grant us a safe lodging,
and a holy rest,
and peace at the last.
Amen

Friday, February 27, 2026

Remembering My Brother

"For we do not live to ourselves, and we do not die to ourselves. If we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord; so then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord’s. For to this end Christ died and lived again, so that he might be Lord of both the dead and the living." 
-- Romans 14:7-9



Lord,
He was 53.
A gentle giant in my eyes.
My mentor,
My role model,
My older brother,
My best friend.
He was my first phone call 
in good times and bad.

When I was born,
he was almost five years old.
My parents called him from the hospital.
He asked, "What kind of brother am I?"
Meaning: Was he the big brother to a baby sister or a baby brother?

During his 15-month
struggle with a glioblastoma,
I realized a better answer to his question:
"Jeff was a damn good brother."

He taught me how to crawl.
He taught me algebra when I was in 3rd grade.
He taught me how to drive a manual transmission car.
He showed me how to have fun
in college without going overboard.
He showed me how to love a wife.
He showed me how to love a son.

He showed me how to die.
Jeffrey Knox Denny died on Sunday, September 28, 2026.

He was a damn good brother.
I'll miss calling him on my drive home.
I'll miss his movie recommendations.
I'll miss playing card games and board games with him.
I'll miss sitting on the porch just talking.
I'll miss having someone that I don't have to explain things to; he just understands.
I'll miss getting his advice.

I thought we'd have another 30+ years.
It ended too soon.

"If we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord; so then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord’s." -- Romans 14:8
Amen.

Saturday, January 31, 2026

A South Carolina Snow Day

Lord,
Thank you for the snow falling outside my window.
The joy;
the laughter;
the snowballs;
the snowman building attempts;
the head normally bowed to a computer screen 
now lifted in anticipation,
tongue outstretched 
awaiting the icy taste of snowflakes;
the footsteps around the yard 
and into the neighborhood
exploring the winter wonderland;
then inside to the warmth of hot chocolate,
with my eyes wide in wonder at the beauty of the snowfall;
the birds at the bird feeder grateful for seeds.

The blanket of snow will be short-lived,
and thank you for that truth, too.
For all its beauty,
the snowycold hides a danger.
I hope the power does not go out.
Icyroads, icy walkways, and icycold 
are conditions that we in South Carolina
are not used to or prepared for,
and are life-threatening for some.

Lord,
your command to love your neighbor
comes to mind.
a reminder check on and care for neighbors, 
especially the most vulnerable...

Thank you, Lord, for the snow.
Thank you for the opportunities it brings
to play, to wonder, 
to care for neighbors.

I look forward to its melting away,
but not too soon.
I am going back out to make a snow angel!
Amen.