Praying from an Empty Heart

There are certain things we don’t know. For example, we don’t know how a honeybee can fly. You see, theoretically, the wings of a honeybee are too short and too light to support him when he is carrying pollen. It’s an aerodynamic impossibility for a honeybee to fly when he’s loaded with pollen. But guess what. Honeybees fly even when loaded with pollen. Certain things we don’t know—things as simple as the flight of a bee.

There are some things we can’t know—things like the day or hour of the Rapture (Matthew 25:13), or who will be in heaven (Matthew 13:24–30).

There are several things we should know. “Don’t be ignorant,” admonished Paul, “concerning the second coming (see 1 Thessalonians 4:13), spiritual gifts (see 1 Corinthians 12), and Satan’s devices” (see 2 Corinthians 2:11).

And there are some things we truly do know…

The Promise Given to Us

In our text, Paul doesn’t say, “You should know that all things work together for good.” He doesn’t say, “I want you to know all things work together for good.” He says, “You already know that all things work together for good to them that love God and are called according to His purpose.”

How do we know this?

“Because this verse is in the Word,” you answer. “Therefore, it must be true.”

All right. But what about those in Rome to whom Paul was writing? They had never heard of Romans 8:28. How, then, could Paul assume they knew its truth?

The Price Paid for Us

Look down a few verses to verse 32: “God spared not His own Son but delivered Him up for you and me.” If He loved you enough to send His Son to be slaughtered in your stead to pay the price for your sin, don’t you know God will do what’s good for you continually? When I begin to doubt the love of God, or wonder if things are really working together for good, all I need to do is look to Calvary and see Jesus there dying for me.

The Peace Within Us

God’s goodness was known and understood by Old Testament saints long before the Cross of Calvary. How? Because, deep within their hearts, in the midst of tragedy, in the face of difficulty, all those who love God know that all things are truly working together for good.

There is a man in the Old Testament who did this very thing. His name is Jacob, and this part of his story is found in Genesis 42. Jacob had twelve sons. Although he loved them all, number eleven was especially dear to him. His name? Joseph. You recall the story.…

Jacob gave Joseph a “coat of many colors,” or, more accurately, “a coat with big sleeves.” You see, in those days, laborers wore vests without sleeves in order that their arms could be unrestricted. But the bosses—the head honchos—wore coats with sleeves, which served as lunchboxes or briefcases because they kept important documents and/or food in them. Joseph’s big sleeves made his brothers so jealous that they threw him into a pit, where they were going to leave him to die—until one of the brothers suggested they could make some money if they sold him as a slave. So sell him they did, after which they smeared blood all over his coat and took it to Jacob, saying, “Bad news, Dad. Joseph was eaten by wild animals.”

Meanwhile, through an incredible series of events, Joseph became prime minister of Egypt—second in command only to Pharaoh himself. When famine hit Israel, Jacob called his sons together and said, “I’ve heard there’s a man in Egypt who has food. Go ask him if we can buy some grain.” So his sons, ten in number, appeared before the prime minister, whom they didn’t recognize.

“Why are you here?” asked Joseph.

“We’re here to buy grain, Your Highness.”

“I think you’re lying,” said Joseph. “I think you’ve come to spy out the land.”

“No,” insisted his brothers. “We’re brothers. In fact, there were twelve of us originally—but one of our brothers is dead, and our youngest brother is at home.”

“If that’s true,” countered Joseph, “go bring your youngest brother to me. That will validate your story. Meanwhile you, Simeon, will stay in prison until the youngest one is brought back.”

The nine went back home, taking the grain with them that Joseph had given them. The famine grew worse, and soon they were out of food once more. “Go back to Egypt,” Jacob said.

“We can’t go back unless we take Benjamin,” said the brothers.

Watch what Jacob said in verse 36: “Me have ye bereaved of my children; Joseph is not, and Simeon is not, and ye will take Benjamin away: all these things are against me,” or literally, “all is working against me.”

• What does Romans 8 say?

“All things work for good.”

• What is Jacob declaring?

“Everything is working against me. My son, Simeon, is a hostage. My son Joseph is dead. And my son Benjamin is soon to disappear.”

Jacob was completely wrong about what had happened: Joseph wasn’t dead. As a matter of fact, he was in perfect health. And Jacob was wrong about what would happen: Benjamin would return, and Simeon would be released.

“Doesn’t what Jacob said disprove your premise that everyone who loves God knows innately that everything is working out for good?” you ask.

Even though Jacob said, “Everything is against me,” I suggest to you deep down inside, he didn’t believe it.

Why?

Read the next chapter. Knowing Jacob, if he really believed Benjamin would die in Egypt, he would not have allowed Benjamin to go. Clever, cunning Jacob would have figured out another way. But his sending Benjamin proves he didn’t really believe everything was working out negatively for him.

The story continues.…

The brothers return to Egypt and appear before Joseph with Benjamin in tow. “I’m the brother you put in a pit, the one you sold into slavery,” announced Joseph. And the brothers fell at his feet in fear. “Don’t fear,” he said. Although you meant evil against me, God meant it for good” (see Genesis 50:20).

Joseph said, “Everything you did to me was part of a plan, so don’t worry.” And he spoke kindly to them and showed great love toward them.

Here’s the question: How do I react to difficulty? Am I like Jacob, saying, “All things are working against me. How can this be happening to me? What good is going to come out of this tragedy”—even though I know in my heart that such is not the case? Or am I like Joseph, saying, “Man may have meant this for evil, but God meant it for good”?

Unfortunately, all too often I choose the sniveling of Jacob rather than the security of Joseph. Why? To elicit sympathy. My flesh is terribly ugly, and one of the things that makes it that way is my desire for you to feel sorry for me. What is it about our flesh that wants people to think we have it harder than anyone else? While that may seem an insignificant quirk, in reality it borders on blasphemy because in getting you to feel sorry for me, I get you to question God’s goodness, provision, and protection in my life. Thus, your pity for me is at God’s expense.

Who am I going to be? Am I going to be self-indulgent and allow God to be cast in a bad light—even though I know in my heart the promise given to me, the price paid for me, the peace available for me? Am I going to deny all of that and say, “I want you to feel sorry for me. Listen to my tragedy”? Or am I going to say, “I will not dishonor this good, gracious, loving God who has been so kind to me, who has been so good to me. Therefore, I will not bring shame to His name in eliciting sympathy from anyone”?

That is called the fear of the Lord. It’s respect. It’s reverence. It’s saying, “Father, I care more about Your reputation than I do about getting sympathy from the congregation. I don’t want them to think questioningly, negatively, or blasphemously of You.”

What is the fear of God? The fear of God means you’re so in love with God that you are afraid of doing anything that would hurt Him. Oh, that we would be those who say, “We fear God. We will not snivel. God is good and we know in our hearts deep within us that all things are working together for good”?

Does this mean we’re not to sympathize with others when they’re going through difficulties?

While the Bible does, indeed, say we are to weep with those who weep (Romans 12:15), what does it actually mean? Whenever you want to know what a verse or concept means, look at Jesus Christ who was the Word made flesh.

“Come quickly, Lord. The one whom thou lovest is sick,” pleaded Martha and Mary (John 11:3). Four days later, when Jesus finally arrived, Martha greeted Him, saying, “Where were You?”

Do you ever hear yourself talking like that? Do you ever hear yourself saying, “The bills are stacking up; my marriage is falling apart, my health is breaking down—where’s the Lord?”

After Martha came Mary. “Lord,” she cried, “if only You had been here, our brother would not have died.” Seeing her weep, Jesus wept. Why? Was it because Lazarus died? No. Jesus knew Lazarus would soon be called back from the dead. He wasn’t weeping for Lazarus. He was weeping because Mary didn’t get it.

In Luke 19, we read of Jesus weeping again—this time over the city of Jerusalem.

As the multitude shouted, “Hosanna! Blessed is He that comes in the name of the Lord,” Jesus wept over the city. Why? Because of the people’s failure to understand that He came to give them spiritual salvation, not a political solution.

The third time Jesus spoke of weeping was in Luke 23.

His back was beaten, His face swollen, and a crown of thorns was smashed into His skull, as He stumbled down the Via Dolorosa up to a hill called Calvary. To the women weeping along the way He said, “Don’t weep for Me. Weep for yourselves because you don’t understand what lies ahead for this city” (see verses 28, 29).

When I see Jesus weeping, I am amazed because He never weeps for Himself. He only weeps when other people don’t understand. Here, then, is the question: Thinking you’re being compassionate, are you one who constantly weeps with others? Perhaps what we need in the Christian community during this time of self-centered Christianity are men and women who say, “I fear God. Dear brother, even if you don’t understand—precious sister, even if you think this is cold-hearted or lacking compassion, you know that this difficulty or this tragedy will work for good. Stand on that knowledge. Cling to it. I will weep for you if you don’t get it. But I’m not going to weep with you as you question God and snivel. He’s too good for that. Righteous and true are His judgments (Psalm 19:9). Whatever He does will prove to be excellent. And I will stand on that.”

May God give us wisdom. May God give us peace. May God give us understanding. All things work together for good to them that love God, to them that are called according to His purpose.

I know this to be true. So do you.

We Groan!

From An Inward Longing, v. 23-26

- We Have the First Fruits - the blessing of salvation.

- Awakening our desire for Heaven.

“Now, if we don’t know how to pray, then why pray at all? Understand this: Prayer is not getting my will done in heaven. Prayer is getting God’s will done on earth. It’s not me giving directions to the Father, but rather me saying, “Father, direct me. I open the door for You to work. I hold up this need for You. I place this situation in Your hand.” I do this all through prayer because the Word tells us that God has chosen to work through the vehicle of prayer. And if we do not pray we will limit what He would do, what He could do, what He desires to do (James 4:2).

Therefore, if I don’t pray, I will never know if God got His way with

Peter-John,

This congregation,

or Friendships

Or our nation.

But if I do pray and say, “Lord, here’s the situation. I’m not directing You, but I’m just looking to You to have Your will done”—then I can be at peace.”

Courson, Jon. Jon Courson’s Application Commentary. Romans 8:23-26 Nashville, TN: Thomas Nelson, 2003.

- Leading to (Inadequate) Prayer, v. 26

Remember a few weeks ago when we reminded ourselves that we are not pulling God to us in prayer, we are anchoring ourselves on Him in prayer!

The Spirit Loans

Strength and Interceding

- We groan, and (sometimes) don’t pray as we should. We get too engrossed in the reasons for our groanings, distracting us from praying according to the will of God.

- but the Spirit loans us His strength and INTERCEDES for us…

God knows our hearts!

- and hears the Spirit,

- helping us pray according to the will of God. v. 27 - God causes all things to work for good.