Knowing Christ: A Question for Praying People

I have a question for people who would consider themselves practicing Christians. It really doesn't matter which denomination (I don't think). Let's say you have, as part of your regular prayer list, a section for People Who Don't Know Christ. What does this mean, exactly?

I ask because it appears that Hubby and I have landed on this section of someone's prayer list, and we're not sure why. We go to church, we actively look for opportunities to be involved in church and the community, we teach our children about God and prayer, and we genuinely believe in Christ and do our best to live according to basic Christian principles: love people, love God. The person who put us on their list is a relative of mine and knows these things about us, so we're both a bit confused and slightly hurt that this person is under the impression that we don't know Christ. I'm sure the intentions were completely good and that it can't hurt to have someone praying on your behalf.....but what does it mean?

Praying for Things

I've found myself with an odd question. I've always believed that prayer matters. In fact, I believe that prayer works miracles sometimes, not win-the-lottery kind of miracles, but save a life kind of miracles. Throughout my life, I've been in situations where there were some very important things up in the air (for example, finding childcare in a new state where I'd moved to start graduate school). I knew nobody and had limited financial and local resources. What did I do? I prayed, and then I took a leap of faith. I have often prayed to God for guidance, strength, the ability to make the right decision, or for the simple care and protection of my family. He has always answered those prayers.

Where I find myself at odds is that I also believe that God has a plan for me. I believe He knows how my life will unfold, despite the fact that I make my own decisions. I might be the one to choose the path, but He always knows what path that will be. Given these two sets of beliefs, it makes me wonder about the impact of praying for something specific, like a job. My interview tomorrow is for a job I would very much like to have (assuming a campus visit didn't turn up something awful). It's in my field, it's in a location where we could be reasonably happy, and we'd be relatively close-ish to my family. I'd love to have this job. But, can I really ask God to help me get this job? Does He answer prayers like that? I don't think so.

I think God has a plan for me, and it may or may not include this potential job. If it doesn't, then it seems like it would be silly for me to pray that I get this job. Now, I can totally see praying for strength and composure and all the things that would help me give a fantastic interview. But, something like "Please, God, let me get this job!" doesn't sound like something He wants to hear. What are your thoughts on prayers of this sort?

Patriotism vs. Gratitude

Though I've been thinking about similar things since we returned to the States last month, reading Anastasia's post on patriotism and the church has helped me to clarify what I've been feeling in a very specific way (BTW: I'd be interested to hear other expat perspectives). We've been living in the Middle East for almost a year now. Hubby and I have gone through all the usual stages of international, expatriate living: an initial sense of adventure, followed by all sorts of confusing, frustrating, and irrational (to us) adjustments to our daily lives, along with outright culture shock. By December, I was at my breaking point, and I really wasn't sure how I would make it through each day. I went through a semester-long sort of love affair with teaching an extremely diverse international student body; I was charmed by awareness of world events and their ability to see themselves as global citizens. Some things (like the frustrations that come with language barriers) became normal, while others (the reckless and often fatal driving habits of many Qataris) will never be normal, though we adjust our routines and routes as much as possible.

All of this is to say that I've spent the last year thinking about what it means to live in America vs. the Middle East (Qatar specifically). What it means to be an American. What privileges I have simply because I was born in the United States. What privileges I have because I'm white, make a certain amount of money, etc. As I've looked around me in a country where approximately 70% of the people are imported labor from South Asia, there to do work that the citizens refuse to do (or learn to do) for themselves, I've seen people who do not--and may never--enjoy some of the most simple privileges that I enjoy as an American.

Some caveats...I've never been the flag-waving, Yankee Doodle-singing, die for my country type of person. I've always thought America is a pretty great place. Going through graduate school, of course, I learned about many of the ways America is flawed in some very, very significant ways. I absolutely don't believe there is any such thing as an "American Dream," and I think the idea of nation is largely (if not entirely) constructed by social, political, and religious ideologies.

However, I am utterly grateful for the privileges and freedoms that I am granted in this country. Do I think God loves me more than my Egyptian, Syrian, Iraqi, Qatari, or Kenyan students? No. Do I think God has sprinkled a magic fairy dust of blessings from sea to shining sea? No. Am I superior to the people of any other country? No. Is America the best country in the world? I doubt it.

But, does a "no" answer to these questions mean that I can't be thankful for the life I'm allowed to live here? No, it does not. This is to say that over the past year I have learned to be thankful for all sorts of things that I previously took for granted. Some of these things--the right to free speech, the right to practice my religion freely, the legal freedom to own property as a single woman, etc.--are directly related to being an American. Some of these--safe drinking water, access to high-quality medical care and technology, free public education for my children--are related to being a citizen of a constantly-developing first-world country.

As a Christian, it's a habit for me to give thanks in my prayers. Thanks for the health of family, the roof over our head, clothes on our backs, food to fill our stomachs. Now, God didn't personally sew the shirt I'm wearing, but I thank Him nonetheless for blessings big and small. I thank Him not for making me an American, but for my existence in this place where I (and my family) enjoy so many privileges, freedoms, and opportunities. Some of them exist elsewhere and some don't.

I guess my point is that this gratitude, this recognition, does not mean that I think of Asians as "dirty and backward" or Africans as "poor and wretched." Actually, it has nothing at all to do with what I think of citizens of other countries or other citizens of this country (who may, in fact, be quite poor and wretched despite their being Americans). Really and truly, for me, it's about two things: recognition and thanks. I'm aware, I'm thankful, and I want to consciously work at making sure my children are as well. That may or may not overlap with patriotism, but for me it definitely isn't a consequence of any specific church practice or religious institution.