Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name.
Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.
Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.
For Thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen.

I can't remember at what age the Lord's Prayer became something I could recite without even thinking about it. When you grow up in the church, you hear those words spoken so many times they become embedded in your brain, and I think that's a good thing. It makes them quick to come to mind. But in the last few years, I have been spending a good bit of time pondering why, when Christ taught his disciples to pray, he gave them four words in particular. The words I got stuck on are "Thy will be done."

I'm going to get back to those words in a minute, but first, it cannot go unsaid that the reason I have spent so much time thinking about those words that had rolled off my tongue with such ease my entire life is because they began to stick in my throat a few years back. The first time it occurred to me what a difficult thing it is to pray "Thy will be done" sincerely was when I was praying for the safety of my brother, who was headed off to Iraq. I realized that I didn't really mean those words. What I meant, if I was being honest, was some form of "Thy will be done, but of course, You and I both know that what I want is best, right?" I am no great theologian, but I know enough to know that's not how you're supposed to pray that prayer.

It got even harder for me to reconcile those words with my heart when my brother was injured. For the first time in my life, I was confronted with the will of God in a form that I would never have chosen, and it shocked me. How could God's will look like this? Why would I pray for that? Furthermore, why would God want me to pray for that?

That was almost five years ago, and today when I look back on all of that, I see much more of God's mercy than was immediately apparent to me at the time. But "Thy will be done" is still a phrase I think about a lot harder than I used to do. This week, we as a family and our church family as a whole observe two years since a dear friend of ours, a husband and father, died quite unexpectedly. We were in no way prepared to lose him, and the shock of it is something I can still feel quite clearly. We miss him, and that hurts. Then yesterday Dan and I heard a new piece of sad news from friends who have been going through what can only be described as a severe trial this year. We had prayed so hard for different news, and maybe the beginning of a happy part of that story, but that wasn't the answer we got. And once again, because I could not think of anything else to say about it, the Lord's Prayer came to mind as I sat in front of my computer screen and wept for those who weep.

"Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed by Thy name.
Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven."

The truth I've been grappling with for the last few years is that me praying those four words does not somehow magically activate the will of God. God's will is going to be what happens no matter how I pray. So all I can conclude from the command to pray this way is that Christ knew that we would have moments of doubt and struggle, and that in leaving us those words, He was giving us a way to practice accepting God's will when it does not look like what we would choose. In saying "Thy will be done," I am acknowledging that it is God who is in control, not me. It's true whether I say it or not, but saying it helps me remember that it's true. I need the reminder.

Another reminder at the end of the prayer gives me a lot of comfort:

"For Thine is the kingdom, and the power and the glory forever."

Not "Thine will be the kingdom." Thine IS the kingdom. Right now. In everything, no matter how good or bad it seems to me. That's not an easy Sunday School answer, or an idea that instantly takes away the pain and the sorrow we feel while living in a world broken by the fall. This week, we miss Brent. We grieve for our friends who are going through such a dark and difficult time, and it is right and good that we do that. I'm thankful that nowhere in Scripture do we hear that Christians aren't allowed to grieve. But we do so as people who know that God is in control of even these things, and His is the kingdom.