ABBY HUTTO | GUEST

One summer while my children were in elementary school, I instituted a new prayer policy in our home. I could no longer take hearing the same prayer over and over again. Every single day, three times a day, they prayed, “Thank you, Jesus, for our food and please help us have a great day.” I finally had enough. I purchased a little chalkboard, downloaded a prayer guide with 31 names/attributes of God, and made a new rule: before we thank Jesus for our food, before we ask him to make every day a great day, we must first thank him for being himself. I declared that summer a season of adoration.

Meditating on God’s Character

My children were doing what comes instinctively to all of us. When we pray, it’s easy to thank God for the things he has done for us. We don’t have to search our minds for things we want to ask him for. If we’re truly spiritual, we confess our sins. But appreciating God for just being who he is doesn’t seem to come naturally to us. Adoration is not something modern American Christians spend a lot of time doing.

Our culture, our schedules, and our overactive hearts don’t leave us time to slow down and meditate over who God is in his character and nature. We rarely separate who God is from what he does. At first glance, that may not seem like a big deal. After all, who God is in his character and nature is displayed in his acts of power as he works in our world to rescue and save his people. Thanksgiving and supplication are vital to our prayer lives. Jesus taught us to pray, “Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our debts.” It is good and right to be moved by God’s intervention in our life. When he provides, comforts, rescues, it is right to be thankful for what he has done. But do we also adore him for who he is? Do we open our prayers as Jesus taught us, adoring our Father who is hallowed and enthroned in his heavenly kingdom?

What I learned that summer, as I listened to my children struggle to pronounce attributes like “immutable” or “transcendent” or names like “El Shaddai” or “Adonai” was that my irritation with their mealtime prayers had less to do with them and more to do with my own anemic heart. I had to ask myself some hard questions. Do I only value God for what he does for me? Or do I also value his heart?

The Gospel writers chronicled much of what Jesus did, but they also captured the heart of Christ. How many times do they record Jesus looking on someone with compassion before he ever reaches out a hand to heal, to feed hungry bellies, or raise the dead? (Matt. 14:14, Mark 8:2, Luke 7:13) Before he corrects the rich young ruler’s theological errors, what does he first do? Mark tells us Jesus looked at him and loved him. (Mark 10:21) Why record the weeping of Jesus over the lost souls of Jerusalem or the ravages of sin and death? (Luke 19:41, John 11:35) The Gospels put on full display the heart of God so that we will learn to love the character and nature behind the actions. Jesus is not just a means to an eternal end; he is to be treasured and cherished as the end himself.

Cultivating Hearts of Adoration

This lesson hit home last year when I contracted COVID-19. Though I wasn’t hospitalized, I had a severe enough case that I faced several months of slow recovery. I felt as if God put me in a spiritual (and physical) “time out.” I moved slowly. I thought slowly. I spent a lot of time being still and quiet. For someone who has always been physically active and enjoys being productive, this felt extremely frustrating.

After a couple of months, I began to ask myself what it could look like for me to embrace the God given limitations of this season. What if I truly believed these “boundary lines” were from him and had fallen in pleasant places for me? I began to embrace the slow nature of my life. I read a book about solitude and practiced the spiritual discipline of silence. I sat for hours in a rocking chair on my back porch, just being still with the Lord. I began to detect a quietness in my soul that I had never experienced before. I felt at peace. In a season where I could not value myself for what I produced, I found myself growing incredibly grateful for who God is. His nearness became tender to me. His gentleness was precious to my pared down soul.

It’s hard to slow down in our frenetic culture. To choose to amble while others race forward requires death to self and a refusal to judge our lives by worldly standards. But if we choose this pace, we’ll find ourselves in good company. On the night that he was betrayed, instead of speeding up and getting a lot done, Jesus slowed down. He spent an evening lingering over a meal with his disciples, not feeding the masses. He didn’t use his last few hours healing hundreds of diseased people. He spent it revealing the heart of his Father to his disciples and patiently answering their questions. John 13-17 seems to slow down to a snail’s pace in comparison to the first twelve chapters. This is intentional. Before the disciples witnessed what Jesus came to do, he wanted them to see his heart. Adoration takes time and requires us to be still.

In a new year or a new season, it’s easy to rush forward and fill our calendars with good activities. I am tempted to do the same. But can we also schedule in times to sit and linger over a meal with Jesus? If we chew slowly on the word and meditate, not just on all that God has done, but also on how his heart is displayed, our souls will be deeply satisfied. Setting time aside to just enjoy being with him, rehearsing the things you love about him, and listening to him will take time. You might produce less in the eyes of the world, but you will love more. Listen to what Jesus promises to those who love him, “If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him.” (John 14:23) Let’s cultivate hearts of adoration, a home in which the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit will be welcomed.

 

About the Author:

Abby Hutto

Abby Hutto is the Director of Spiritual Formation at Story Presbyterian Church in Westerville, Ohio. She also works for Parakaleo, a ministry that comes alongside women in ministry, as a group leader and trainer. Abby loves to study and teach God’s Word and delights in helping others experience and know their Heavenly Father better. Abby is married to Ken, and they have two children, Hannah (14) and Harry (13). They live in Westerville, Ohio. She is the author of God For Us: Discovering the Heart of the Father through the Life of the Son, (P&R Publishing). You can connect with Abby at www.godforusministries.com