A Covenant Prayer in the Wesleyan Tradition

“I am no longer my own, but thine.
Put me to what thou wilt, rank me with whom thou wilt.
Put me to doing, put me to suffering.
Let me be employed by thee or laid aside for thee,
exalted for thee or brought low for thee.
Let me be full, let me be empty.
Let me have all things, let me have nothing.
I freely and heartily yield all things
to thy pleasure and disposal.
And now, O glorious and blessed God,
Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,
thou art mine, and I am thine.
So be it.
And the covenant which I have made on earth,
let it be ratified in heaven. Amen.”

Hard Stuff

Y’all, I have long loved this prayer, but I have also long dreaded it. Those phrases: “Put me to doing, put me to suffering. Let me be employed by thee or laid aside for thee,” get at some of my deepest fears.

I love doing. I love being employed. It is HARD for me to ‘freely and heartily yield’ the notion of being productive, being valuable. It is HARD to ask the Lord to put me to suffering, to bring me low, to let me be empty.

But how can I approach the throne, only ever asking to ‘do,’ to ‘be employed’ to ‘be full’ –if I’m not willing to accept whatever comes from His hand?

Real Talk:

I have to confess that today I’ve been battling some fears and worries about my health, and when I (finally) realized that I had better be praying instead of fretting, the words of this prayer are what God brought to my mind.

My hands have been hurting on and off for a decade. Back in my late 20s, they would only ache after I’d spent several hours knitting, sewing, gardening, driving–any repetitive motion or gripping. They always felt better after a day or two.

Here lately, they’ve been aching a little bit all the time. It’s worst when I wake up in the morning, then they seem to loosen up with movement, but by evening they are achy again. If I’ve spent a lot of time typing, using my phone, writing, or gardening, they’re markedly worse.

A couple of days ago, I was massaging my hands in the evening and I realized that a few of my fingers (left pinky & middle, right pinky and index are the worst) don’t straighten completely, no matter what I do. The top joint stays crooked, as if I’m flexing it toward my palm, and the lower two joints look puffy and swollen, like they have a little pot belly. I showed my favorite always-on-call doctor, and he said it looks like Swan Neck Deformity, which is nearly always a sign of arthritis.

My head has a bad habit of extrapolating to worst case scenarios, and so now I’m not only feeling the physical ache of my current pains, but I’m feeling the emotional ache of worrying that I’m on a long, slow train to hands that will be locked up into painful contortions.

So that brings me back to today. I didn’t want to pray, “let me be laid aside” or “put me to suffering.” I’m still wrestling it through, but I think I’m on the precipice of understanding…

What I Want to Say

See, I want to pray for a major, exciting, fantastic healing. But I think first I need to wrap my head and heart around the level of surrender displayed in this prayer. If I can “freely and heartily yield all things to His pleasure and disposal,” then I can ask for big, giant, miracle level healing with a pure heart.

I think my natural bent is to frame it this way: “Lord, heal this ailment so I can work long and hard, and be a valuable person in Your kingdom.”

But I have a hunch that a more God-honoring prayer would be to truly believe these words: “Lord, I know that You love me and created me with a plan in mind. I am not more or less valuable in Your eyes based on anything I can or cannot do. Would you heal me? In your perfect timing, and for your public glory, and to whatever end you’ve already worked out.”

I’ve posted before about my struggles to pray with faith for healing. This time it’s a little different, because it’s for me. In many ways, it was harder when it was my mom or my child I was concerned for. The only part that’s harder so far has been sharing the burden. So here I am, telling everybody: I’m standing in the need of prayer. If you would, I’d love to have you intercede for me–both for faith and understanding, and for healing.