I pray for the martyrs out there. They are killed and persecuted. Some even stumble upon bodies daily. And as much as my heart goes out to them, I will never know what growing up in an environment like that is like.
Which is why, I read about these martyrs, and I can’t help but pray for the people in America just as much.
We don’t know what that life is like. Yet, no matter what it takes, even if it is their life, those people are going to serve God.
So I pray. I pray for us, because we have the freedom to serve God and still choose not to. And that’s scary.
We put off prayer, meditation, and reading our Bibles as if God is supposed to give us the next hour until we are ready to do so. We opt out of worship as if God owes us the freedoms we have to be able to do it.
When I go into my prayer closet, it’s not because my life is in danger. It’s simply because I can and want to. For someone somewhere, that’s not the case. Someone is praying in a closet because unlike me, they can’t freely pray in the open.
God doesn’t owe us the opportunity to worship Him freely. He blessed us with it, and we seem to forget that. We have a very scary sense of entitlement when it comes to God.
God owes me nothing, yet He gives me everything.
And the more I keep that in mind, the better off I will always be.