It’s not
that I fear prayer itself. Well, that would be plain silly.
When the
scriptures tell me to go to the hidden place, to seek out the space less
sought, to remove myself from the chaos and the noise and the distractions, I
welcome the invitation. It’s not prayer that I fear.
What I fear
is man. Or in most cases, woman. What
I fear are the words I speak audibly; the ones spilling out of my mouth that
are better left unsaid. They really are just sounds and blends and yet, once
verbalized they cannot be taken back. The spoken word has such power. Power that,
when usurped carelessly, can crush and wound or empower and encourage.
He knows my
heart, yet those that look at the outside, those that simply hear the words and
react, are unable to see the intent, the thoughts, the desires I desperately
wish to speak.
Unfortunately,
I lack eloquent speech and divinely inspired verbiage (I didn’t even know that was a word). The ability to express
and truly portray myself- that gift was administered to another. I have so many
thoughts rolling around in this little mind of mine; so many cares and needs,
ideas, and reflections of praise. Why
can’t I simply speak and be understood- because I’m not a walking lexicon. He
says, “Let there be light” and all of
creation obeys. I utter phrase upon phrase and yet neglect to verbalize the
heart behind the mess.
It’s all
there, and He knows. But do you? Do they? And do my words come close to
articulating the spirit behind the terminology?
And so I
choose to pray alone. I choose to sit before Him, solely Him, because He knows
me so intimately. His love for me is so
unrestricted that nothing audible could ever come between that love and His
child.
So when you ask me to
pray with you, and I seem a little quiet, and my words remain few, know that my
heart is full, and my needs are many. The one who is introverted and hesitant in
daily discourse, will likewise be timid and cautious regarding group prayer and
public displays of faith. The recluse trusts the Discerner of the thoughts and
intents of the heart far more than those looking and listening from the
outside.
Know that I
love you, and I want to fellowship with you. Know that I want to pray with you
and grow in this area alongside you. Know also that a fear of woman is terrible and can knock the
words right out of the meekest of sisters.
Because if everyday words are
unworthy for the casual hearer, then uncertain and indiscernible words spoken
for the ears of the Most High are the unworthiest (and no, that is NOT a word).
Because He and only He can see past the
words and into the depth that really counts.
And if any
of this makes any sense at all, then feel free to agree or disagree in the
comments. Only do it gently, because otherwise I may cower from blogging altogether.
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