I talk about prayer quite a bit, mostly Visual Prayer and how it came about (ebook will be finished soon!) but something happened yesterday that I’ve never experienced.
For the record, this has nothing to do with anything I’ve ever mentioned on this blog, on Facebook, or anywhere for that matter. It is a new thing that seemed to come out of nowhere. However, having learned from experience a teensy, tiny, little bit about how God works, I can say for certain that it was no surprise to Him.
So this thing (this good thing. I think it’s good.) happened (very quickly I might add) and immediately I felt this overwhelming pressure to get down on my face (literally) prostrate in prayer. I could not stop crying either. At first it was silent prayer, then I was moved to speak the words aloud. This went on for quite some time. I thought I was finished, got up, gathered my wits, thought about how strange that felt and it happened again.
This time I admit, I did not lie on the floor, but on my bed. Again with the tears and the silent prayer then the spoken prayer. Then confession.
I cannot remember a time that the Holy Spirit has ever pressed down so hard on me to pray. The best way I can describe the way the heaviness draped over me is–imagine laying on the ground (warm and snug) and having to bear the weight of of a couple feet of heavy, wet snow. That’s how I felt. I couldn’t do anything more than lay in my bed and cry and pray.
This morning, I woke at 5am with a lighter weight, but serious call to prayer. I prayed from 5-7 in bed this morning.
I’m going to go out on a limb here and say I think there will be more heavy prayer today.
I don’t know what this all means. I mean, I understand how it pertains to what happened. I do not understand this overwhelming and very weighted, very heavy call to prayer.
Has anyone experienced this??
It always seems to happen this way…
A friend’s granddaddy passes.
Another friend’s baby is born.
A friend needs surgery.
Another friend is healed.
A friend’s uncle is fading.
Another friend’s baby is born.
A friend might have had a stroke.
Another friend’s mother’s breast cancer scare turned out to be nothing.
I guess it’s the cycle of life. the good. the bad. the good. the bad.
I’m praying so much right now. Is there something you’d like me to pray about?
Rough days are inevitable. Seems like they come in conjunction with some of the biggest blessings. Which I suppose is par for the course.
What makes rough days worse is stupid people. Or stupid mean people. Or just plain ole people.
It might not be that way for you. I walk a tightrope between introvert and extrovert so while some days being with people energizes me, other days, it exhausts me to a disturbing point.
I continually read on of Oswald Chambers’ devotionals about exhaustion. You’re doing yourself a huge disservice if you relate to what I’m saying but don’t read this. It’s short.
I was feeling pressure from so many areas (some of them self-induced) so I decided to take a bath with some lavender bath salts, listen to Jeremy Camp on the iPod dock, and have some quiet time with God. I covered my eyes with a washcloth and asked the Holy Spirit to quiet my soul.
It took awhile. I think my mind naturally resists being still and quiet. The song Letting Go came on and behind my washcloth covered closed eyes, I clearly saw a jar with tears in it.
And I cried.
Then I put on my big girl panties and decided I could trust God to handle these mounting problems of mine. If he could store my tears in a jar, he could certainly take care of some insignificant people that were bothering me. Besides, what they do shouldn’t be my concern, right?
I hurried to my easel and painted a jar.
Then I decided I needed to know where that verse was and in what context it was written. Turns out, it was smack in the middle of a Psalm. Psalm 56.
And what a wonderful Psalm it is for someone in the position I had been complaining about being in.
By creating prayer, renewal washed over me.
My spirit calmed and then soared.
The urge to crawl into bed and hide away from the world for weeks on end was gone.
Not alone in misery and wandering, but every tear recorded and kept in God’s bottle.
For Linda, Rebecca, Mair, Toni, and Mari
More about Praying In Color here or at Praying In Color.
See all of my prayers here.