I kept telling myself if I prayed hard enough God would move in my situation and blast the obstacles out of my way, especially since it was me praying. He knows I’ve been striving to be more intentional with my praying this year and not coming to Him with a lot of pesky self-centered petitions. “So this is the one, Lord, answer it please,” I prayed.

In the midst of this, I received a long distance call last week from my original best friend, whom I had not spoken with for weeks. In a quick conversation, she said she had a dream about me being upset about something. “God said it’s taken care of,” she told me. A sense of relief flooded me. But as the days went on my situation did not change; what I had expected to happen on Monday did not happen, neither did it happen on Tuesday. (I choose not to be more specific because it involves other people, but suffice it to say, I needed my prayers answered in a hurry because other people were depending on a positive outcome to the situation for which I was praying.)

By now I was convinced that God was giving a resounding NO to my prayers. The situation was still in flux and had not been resolved in the time promised, and I couldn’t bear to think of disappointing the others. Just as I was lamenting all of this Tuesday, God cracked open another door for me to walk into, and I am amazed at the speed at which I was able to accomplish in 24 hours what I have not been able to do in three months. There are still a few wrinkles to iron out but I can certainly testify that God is faithful to His word.

“Casting all your care upon Him, for He cares for you.” I Peter 5:7

Yesterday while sitting at my desk and trying to finish one of several assignments, I gave into my easily distracted mind and picked up a little gift book that a friend gave me for my birthday. While flipping through the pages several quotes immediately grabbed my attention.

“No problem is so big that it won’t fit in God’s hand.”  Suzanne Berry

“Troubles are often the tools by which God fashions us for better living.”  Henry Ward Beecher

“Out of difficulties grow miracles.”  Jean de la Bruyere

Much later in the day I fixed my eyes more firmly on the title of the book, “God always has a Plan B.”  I smiled.

Could it be that sometimes when what we perceived as God saying no is actually Him letting us know He has a different plan to see us out of our situation? I had to be reminded this week that worrying and praying at the same time doesn’t work. Trusting and listening to God in prayer works wonders.

“For My thoughts are not your thoughts,

nor are your ways My ways,” says the LORD.

“For as the heavens are higher than the earth,

so are My ways higher than your ways,

and My thoughts than your thoughts.”

Isaiah 55: 8-9 NKJV

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Ben Jealous, the president of the NAACP, is asking that people stand together to pray and fast this evening.

“Ask friends to meet up. Ask your family to fast Wednesday evening in solidarity with Troy’s family and use the dinner hour to talk. Ask your faith community, if they already have a Wednesday night fellowship planned, to make time for conversation about Troy’s scheduled execution,” Jealous said in a letter to supporters. (Photo from ABC News)

“However you do it, please mark the 7 o’clock hour on that evening—the time of Troy’s scheduled execution—as a moment to reflect on Troy’s experience, to offer prayers for his family and that of Officer MacPhail, and to talk about what we can each do to ensure our nation never does this again.”

Troy Davis professed his innocence from the moment he turned himself in until now. The 42-year-old said he has been sustained by his faith and family and that he’s ready whenever his moment of death comes.

“They can take my body but not my spirit, because I have given my spirit to God.”

Twenty years ago, Davis was handed the death penalty for killing off-duty Savannah police officer Mark MacPhail. The persistent work of his dedicated sister helped garner a groundswell of national and international support. Concern continues to mount that another innocent man may be put to death under a flawed legal system.

Seven of the nine witnesses who testified against Davis in 1991 have since recanted and enough doubt has been raised that Davis’s scheduled execution has been halted three other times. But on Monday when the Georgia Board of Pardons and Parole turned down his request for clemency, hope sink.

Davis said his case isn’t just about him. It is about justice and the human spirit to see justice prevail. “This Movement to end the death penalty, to seek true justice, to expose a system that fails to protect the innocent must be accelerated,” he wrote.  “There are so many more Troy Davis’.”

For the family of Officer MacPhail, the execution of Troy Davis today will be justice. They have been unwavering in their belief that Davis killed MacPhail when the off-duty officer was trying to prevent a homeless man from being attacked. They want him punished.

“Justice was finally served for my father,” said Mark MacPhail Jr., who was an infant when his father was killed. “The truth was finally heard.”

Whose justice? Whose truth? I am praying for both families who have had to live with the consequences of this case since 1989 when MacPhail was killed. I pray that God’s grace will be sufficient for them and that in forgiveness they will find healing. I pray also that the use of the death penalty in this country will be stopped.

Troy Davis’s case is focusing attention on the death penalty, especially as it relates to the number of innocent inmates who have been killed by their states. But there is another death row inmate who is scheduled to be executed tonight whose plight is testing my own compassion and views of the death penalty.

There is no mounting support or any claims of innocence for Lawrence Russell Brewer. The white supremacist was sentenced to death for the heinous 1998 dragging death of James Byrd Jr., a black man, in Beaumont, Texas.

As horrible as this crime was, the son of the murdered man is calling for mercy for his father’s killer. Brewer is scheduled to die by lethal injection after 6 p.m. tonight in Texas.

“You can’t fight murder with murder,” Ross Byrd told Reuters. “Life in prison would have been fine. I know he can’t hurt my daddy anymore. I wish the state would take in mind that this isn’t what we want.”

May God guide us as we seek justice for all.

What are your views on justice and mercy?

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You wanted your morning caffeine fix but now you really need it. You consider dipping into the digital coin bank you and your husband share, but you have agreed to the rule of never taking anything out of this bank until it reaches the $100 mark and you take these coins to the bank together to deposit them in your joint account. You consider using one of the rare $2 bills you have received over the years on special occasions. You decide against it because you don’t really want to exchange a rare currency for something as common as a morning fix.

You decide to use the coffee you have at home instead of wasting more time searching for coins to get flavored coffee at the store around the corner. After you gulp down the coffee, you feel satisfied, sure that the caffeine will kick in almost instantly. You dart out the front door for your morning power walk around the neighborhood. But first, you grab your iPod from your car parked out front. As you exit your car, you notice a dollar bill on the ground. You pick it up and wish you had found it a half hour earlier when you were frantically searching for change for a morning cup of coffee. You feel like you are luckier than if you had found a penny because you have found a whole dollar.

You begin your power walk happily and then you notice something shiny on the ground. It’s a quarter. Now you have a dollar and a quarter that have been coincidentally dropped in your path for you to find. You have taken this power walk every morning for several years but never found any money. Yet, you found some this morning, of all mornings. The irony makes you smile. There must be a message in this for you. You think back over everything that has happened this morning from the time you realized you needed a buck-o-nine for a cup of coffee until the time you found a dollar and a quarter. What do you think God or The Universe was trying to tell you through this experience?

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Sonsyrea Tate Montgomery is the author of “Little X: Growing up in the Nation of Islam,” and “Do Me Twice: My Life After Islam.” Her latest book, a novel, “Capitol Madness: Working on Capitol Hill,” will be released in 2012. Her blog will appear on Soul Rhythms every Wednesday. You can also read her at Sonsyrea’s Blog.

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He repeated those words several more times as I lobbed balls outside his reach but still on the court — much to my delight (even as some were lucky shots). Being able to keep up and return the ball consistently to Vance, Greg’s tennis partner, means I have gotten better since this spring.

For the past few months, with some exceptions, I’ve been getting up early to volley with Greg, sometimes Vance and now more frequently with Jillian. I can feel and see the difference in the trajectory of my shots. More of them are going into the court than out, and I am hitting with more power. I’ve gotten better at watching the ball when it leaves my opponent’s racket, waiting for it to come into my court, and positioning myself to return the ball.

Watch. Wait. Hit. Those three principles help me position myself and remain focused on the tennis court.

Off the court, two of those tenets –“watch” and “wait”— also have become part of my year-long prayer journey. For the last two days, I have been thinking about what the Bible says about waiting on the Lord and being of good courage and “watch and pray.”

Remember when Jesus was in the Garden of Gethsemane. He told the disciples to “watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation.” Instead, they kept falling asleep. (Mark 14: 32-41)

Well, I know from my own prayer life that watching and praying requires vigilance and perseverance. Some days require more personal persistence than others, more diligence to keep prayer time sacred and more desire to hear from God. Watching and praying puts us in position and readies us to move according to God’s direction. To not remain watchful and prayerful is like missing a key shot on the tennis court. To not wait on the Lord for guidance is like constantly hitting balls out of bound.

Some years ago I read what Watchman Nee, a noted 20th century Chinese church leader, wrote about the necessity of watching and praying. His words encourage me to continue to pray without ceasing.

“The easiest target of attack in the life of a child of God is prayer. We must be watchful in guarding the time set aside for prayer, protecting the prayer that is being prayed, preventing all worthless and vain prayers, and precluding Satan from interrupting our prayers. We must watch for the effects of our previous prayers and adjust our current prayers accordingly. Prayer is a ministry — a more excellent service.”

Are you watching and praying?

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Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune–without the words,

And never stops at all,

There’s heavenliness to Dickinson’s view of hope that has been resonating with me this week. I have been thinking about and meditating on hope for the last several days, giving myself permission to look at situations through the eyes of hope and to not lock on to pessimism, disbelief or disappointment.

Since settling  in after traveling throughout most of July, I have had to arrest myself several times from fretting about what I haven’t done or what I let slide. I found myself slipping into a funk because in the last few weeks I had not been praying as deeply or consistently as I had before and because a prayer project that I began with a friend seems to have stalled. I wasn’t writing like I had committed to myself to do, wasn’t exercising as I had been, wasn’t following through like I should on a couple of key commitments.

In the larger scheme of events occurring in the world, my stuff doesn’t amount to an ant hill. Nevertheless, each has the potential of keeping me off center just enough to create a mountain of problems for me and others. I realized how irritable I was becoming one day when I found myself snapping at Greg about absolutely nothing. So I have been moving to self-correction mode, praying more, reading more and clinging to hope.

In one of his short stories, poet and author Paul Laurence Dunbar calls hope “tenacious” and writes, “It goes on living and working when science has dealt it what should be its deathblow.”

I like a tough hope as much, if not more, as I do a feathery one. Living with hope in our hearts prepares us for whatever challenges raise up to meet us as we journey through life. Little problems or big ones are put in perspective when viewed through eyes of hope.

This is the song that has been ringing in my soul today. I am looking forward to the assurance that its words will bring throughout the weekend.

My hope is built on nothing less

than Jesus’ blood and righteousness.

I dare not trust the sweetest frame,

but wholly lean on Jesus’ name.

Refrain:

On Christ the solid rock I stand,

all other ground is sinking sand;

all other ground is sinking sand.

What is hope to you?

(Photo of singing  cardinal is from iwitnessweather.com)

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On my knees in a yoga pose, I realized there were dents and pockets in the ground. What, from a standing position, had looked like a smooth, welcoming carpet of grass was not so smooth when I got right down to it. I also noticed that the water looked particularly muddy this morning with sheets of film, twigs and other plant parts floating on it. Yuck.

I was enjoying my little observations when the excited squeals of a small boy running toward the water startled me. The boy splashed and laughed, bobbing up and down in pure bliss of the liquid playground. He found unadulterated delight in the same river I had just condemned. I did not bother to tell the little boy’s father about the snakes in the water because I have warned people about snakes and jelly fish in this river before but they went in anyway. Besides, I looked up water snakes on the Internet and found that they are harmless. They avoid human contact.

The little boy ran up and down the sand bank, in and out of the water. He called his little sister to join him and she did for a while, squealing, running behind him. He waded into the water up to his waist then waded further, up to his neck.

“Hey Dad, come on in!” he yelled to his father.

“No! It’s uh, too wet!” his dad yelled back.

The little boy’s sister didn’t stay in the muddy water long, but he had himself a good time. He ran to the area where I was sitting, discovering something in the sand.

“Don’t disturb the lady,” his dad told him.

“He’s inspiring me,” I said, smiling at the boy. “How old is he?” I asked.

Little Henry was six. He ran back in the water and played until his mother joined his Dad a few minutes later and it was time to go. He left the water, obviously refreshed. As he bounced away with his family, a couple of birds flying low near the water caught my attention. I got up and went to where I had tossed a portion of my breakfast – pieces of fresh star fruit I had bought for the first time, thinking I would try something exotic, and pieces of my blueberry muffin offered to keep me from consuming all the calories. I was delighted to find that the birds had eaten it all. Now, I was feeling as joyful as Little Henry.

I looked further down the stretch and noticed three women friends sunbathing. I figured they probably would not be getting in the water either, but they would be refreshed by the sun and each other’s companionship.

I looked out to the water again and noticed a snake in the area where Little Henry had just been. I thought, “God’s protection is amazing.”

I looked around and noticed a man reclining on his sun deck, reading a newspaper. I thought, “It must be nice to live right here at the beach.” It would be nice, I guess, until the tide rises, too high. But what if I could have a beach house and a condo in a high-rise someplace where I could retreat at the first warning of a high tide. A range of possibilities flowed.

I enjoyed journaling, observing nature and the people who soon filled the beach and park all around me. I did not get in the water, but left feeling refreshed none-the-less.

How does the water inspire you? Some of my friends like to jog around a lake, read on a pool deck, and meditate on a beach. What do you like?

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Sonsyrea Tate Montgomery is the author of “Little X: Growing up in the Nation of Islam,” and “Do Me Twice: My Life After Islam.” Her latest book, a novel, “Capitol Madness: Working on Capitol Hill,” will be released in 2012. Her blog will appear on Soul Rhythms every Wednesday. You can also read her at Sonsyrea’s Blog.

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I was resting and reflecting on the day’s blessings and my life overall, when I noticed the tree trunk. I had been to the park many times over the past four years but had never noticed that this tree trunk had grown at a remarkable slant. How could a tree grow slanted, I began to wonder. I looked around at other tree trunks more closely and noticed many of the trees had not grown up straight and narrow. Many had grown in crooked, twisted patterns. I marveled at the patterns and laughed at my memories of my grandmother’s demands that I stand up straight and tall, and straighten my feet.

Stand up straight and tall – or not!

I was delighted by what I was seeing through the trees. I remembered being 12 or so and my grandmother commanding me “Don’t slouch. Stand up like you know God made you to be somebody.” And I’ll never forget her looking down at my pigeon toes telling me, “And straighten those feet! You are nobody’s pigeon.” I had made a conscious decision to turn my feet outward, never mind my fallen arches, and when I could afford braces to straighten my teeth, I bought them. I bought Invisaligns though and did not complete the straightening process because of the discomfort. But I have tried to straighten myself, my life, in many ways. I have been straightening my hair, straightening my resume trying to show a disciplined work history. But the trees were teaching me otherwise.

I noticed trees broken at the roots just above ground. They continued to stand tall giving shade with new leaves this season. I noticed tree barks splintered in twos, threes and fours. I had never noticed trees this way and will never look at trees – or people – as I had before. Some of us grow up straight and tall. Some of us grow at a slant; some are beautifully twisted and crooked at the core. Some of us break when strong winds come. Some of us bend. Some lose big branches, some of us don’t.

I also got to thinking about the uniqueness of the various trees all standing in the same area. The Willow was a Willow from the beginning and cannot become an Evergreen no matter how much it prays or tries to imitate. I will be only what God created me to be and with that realization I felt a great measure of relief. It was as if the sun was setting on a certain set of anxieties within me. I left the park knowing the sunset I sought had not been blocked by the trees. The trees had revealed it.

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Sonsyrea Tate Montgomery is the author of “Little X: Growing up in the Nation of Islam,” and “Do Me Twice: My Life After Islam.” Her latest book, a novel, “Capitol Madness: Working on Capitol Hill,” will be released in 2012. Her blog will appear on Soul Rhythms every Wednesday. You can also read her at Sonsyrea’s Blog.

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I witnessed that when I first began volunteering with the D.C. Baptist Convention 10 years ago, and I experienced it anew last week when I attended the BWA meeting in Malaysia. This BWA gathering was my first; I hope it will not be my last. I am drawn to the diversity that makes up this body and am inspired by the work that is being done throughout the world to fight injustice, defend human rights, promote peace, bring aid to those devastated by natural disasters, thwart human trafficking and carry forward the message of hope and salvation.

Each morning we began the day with a 30-minute worship service that honored God and celebrated our diversity. For example on Wednesday, we sang two verses of a song in Indie that beseeched, “Give us Light, O Lord,” and we lifted our voices together in English to the words of a Taiwan hymn that called “people of faith” to heed God’s command to comfort the exiles and free the captives. We listened and read along as Jeremiah 20:7-12 was read in French by an African sister and Roman 10:11-18 was recited by a Chinese sister in her native tongue.

In unity, we gave expression to our own diversity as we prayed this prayer together:

Prayer of Confession

Caring and compassionate Creator,

we gather to celebrate your gift of variety and diversity.

We have failed to see you in places other than our own.

We have ignored your beauty around us,

In earth and sky, in plants and creatures.

We claim that you made us in your own image,

but we have failed to see your own image

in other peoples’ faces.

Hence, we find ourselves separated

from our sisters and brothers.

We have drawn lines between us

Ttat are based on color, race, social and economic status,

ideological positions, religious affiliations,

gender, age, and ability.

O God, our liberation, we seek the power of your Spirit,

that we may learn to live fuller union

with you and our sisters and brothers.

Grant us the courage to love and to act

that we may begin to affirm

your very own image in one another.

God, in your mercy, forgive and empower us.

Amen.

Throughout the week, we had opportunities to give life to that prayer as we ate together, worshipped together, learned together and made decisions together. At the opening night dinner, we enjoyed songs and dances, contemporary and traditional, from young people from area churches. We were treated to a six-course meal of tasty Malaysian fare, including steamed red snapper with homemade bean sauce and wok fried rice with chicken and pineapple. It was both a time to eat and a time to fellowship with each other and our Malaysian hosts.

We ended the week with a spirited worship service at the Kuala Lumpur Baptist Church and heard a powerful sermon from Rev. Dr. Wallace C. Smith from Shiloh Baptist Church in Washington, D.C. – a familiar voice in an unfamiliar land. For all those who were not fluent in English, Rev. Smith’s words were delivered through an interpreter, which at times slowed his cadence and reminded me I was a long way from home.

My journey more deeply into Baptist life has expanded my territory yet again from my predominantly black church in suburban Maryland to the halls of the Berjaya Times Square Hotel in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. More importantly, I think, my journey into a deeper relationship with Christ continues to open up for me a changing view of what God’s Kingdom looks like and how beautiful and empowering unity in Christ can be.

What new places has your faith journey taken you, whether physical or spiritual?

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I walked into a larger room and took a seat in the semicircle of chairs facing a window accented by an enticing blue stained-glass abstract painting. A sturdily built man with blond hair sat a couple of seats down from me on my right; shortly afterward, a middle-aged woman who appeared to be of European origins came in and sat to the left of me. On the floor in one corner lay two toddlers swaddled in blankets, only their eyes and foreheads visible. It took me a minute to realize that the bundles on the floor were alive. I closed my eyes and began to thank God for a safe journey thus far.

I prayed for a while before becoming distracted by gentle rustling noises and low voices. I turned easily to see a couple of Middle Eastern women getting up from the floor where they had prayed. A couple of other young women, who had removed their shoes, were looking at the books on the shelves as a family that appeared to be from an African country stood nearby. The two youngsters in the group quickly unrolled their prayer rugs and got on their knees facing  the East, a Muslim prayer tradition.

Others came and went, including the man who was to the right of me. He rose from his seat, knelt briefly and made the sign of the cross before easing out.  A  man who reminded me of a devoted church deacon from a black Southern church came in, placed two books on his lap and closed his eyes. My prayer time ended as I became fascinated by those who entered the room. As I was leaving, more people were floating in, seemingly pleased to find a sacred space to rest and to connect with their God – a place where respect for each other’s religion connects us to each other for a brief time. I left, taking with me the peace felt in the room and leaving behind any lingering wariness about traveling to yet another country where my religion is in the minority. Last year, it was China; this time it’s Malaysia, a multiethnic and multi-religious country of 28 million people.

Amsterdam was my first stop on a trip where I hope to encounter God in unfamiliar places, to learn more about what God is doing throughout the world through His people and to strengthen my faith. It is where I changed planes after flying seven hours (and a time change) from Washington enroute to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. I arrived safely and sleepily in Malaysia early Monday morning and will be attending this week the Baptist World Alliance (BWA), a global movement of Baptists who share a common confession of faith in Jesus Christ.

I’m here representing the D.C. Baptist Convention, of which I am currently serving as president, and I will be joining with many other Baptists from all over the world in praying and worshiping God each morning before beginning the day’s roster of meetings. I am looking forward to learning what people are doing in Asia, Africa, North America, the Caribbean, Europe and Latin America to live out their Christian witness. Along with BWA business meetings, sessions will also be held on human rights advocacy, religious freedom, social and environmental justice, Baptist heritage and identity, Christian ethics, missions and other matters.

As a first-time attendee, I am excited to see how this group is carrying out its purpose and to be a part of it. I am interested in seeing how we as Baptists work together to live out the Gospel that says we are of “one Lord, one faith, one baptism” and to see how that is done with love and respect for one another and for others.

“BWA exists for the purpose of helping its member conventions, churches and institutions in their desire to faithfully participate in God’s purpose to reconcile all things to Gods’ self in Christ Jesus. It seeks to be an agent of God in networking the Baptist family to impact the world for Christ.”

I hope to write while I’m here as I discover yet again how great our God is. Pray for me and for those gathered here that we remain open to hearing and seeing what it is God would have us join Him in doing in the world and that we will move in obedience to His call on our lives.  To God be the glory.

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Tourists and summer baseball games energized the Mall, but my attention eventually focused on the sky. There is just something about it that beckons me to a place of gratefulness and humbleness. For me noticing the beautiful evening sky is tantamount to stopping to honor God, to give praise for His awesome creation, to worship Him.

When we reached my friend’s car, which was parked in a lot facing the Capitol, we just stood and marveled at the colors adorning the sky at dusk. My friend captured pictures on her phone but noted that the first few shots just didn’t do the scene justice. It’s hard to duplicate precisely what God has created so perfectly.

Since we began our summer evening walks along the Mall, I cannot help noticing the layers of clouds and the shades of blue, and sometime gray, over my head. On several occasions, much to my friend’s amusement, I found myself spontaneously bursting out in the song “We Shall Behold Him.” (At least bursting out with the few words I did know.) I have had some random times too when the song has popped into my head, and I have been awakened in recent days with it on my heart.

I love how Vickie Winans sings that song. She delivers a powerful rendition of it. Sandy Patti’s version also moves me. There’s just something special about looking at a God painted sky and hearing in my heart the words of that song. Here is what the lyrics say:

Verse 1:

The sky shall unfold, preparing His entrance;

the stars shall applaud Him with thunders of praise.

The sweet light in His eyes shall enhance those awaiting,

and we shall behold Him, face to face.

 

Chorus:

We shall behold Him.

Yes, we shall behold Him,

face to face in all of His glory.

We shall behold Him,

Yes; we shall behold Him,

face to face, our Savior and Lord.

 

Verse 2:

The angels shall sound the shout of His coming;

the sleeping shall rise from their slumbering place.

And those who remain shall be changed in a moment,

and we shall behold Him then face to face.

 

Chorus

I am not looking at the sky the same anymore. I am looking with grateful, expectant eyes.

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