There are prayers I can’t pray right now.
Do you know how hard this is to say? I mean, I’m the prayer coordinator for our church, for crying out loud. I work for a prayer ministry. This should not be an issue.
But it is. Because when you have prayed for something hundreds of times and still there is no answer, sometimes it all dries up inside of you. When you have quoted every Scripture and absorbed every teaching and mustered up the guts to be vulnerable enough to ask others to pray, and still the years roll by with no answer, sometimes the words no longer come.
If you need prayer, I’ve got it. No problem. I’ve got the faith for it. I will stand by you and believe for your miracle.
But these days, most of my time spent with God is spent in silence.
And to be utterly transparent, the condemnation over this has been layered on thick. I’ve been tangled up with guilt because, well, I’m supposed to be the prayer person or something.
Until the other day, when I sat down to try again, and after a few empty moments, only managed to whisper, “I don’t know what else to say. I’ve said everything I know to say.” And I braced for His lecture.
But that Voice (oh, how I love that Voice) – not a shred of condemnation – simply said, “I know. But you’re here. And that is enough.”
I don’t know how this story ends yet. This seems to be the messy part of it, the dark part when all hope seems lost. But I share it because maybe another quivering soul is out there, weary with persistent prayer and feeling like a spiritual failure because of it.
And maybe you too need to know – your willingness to seek Him, even if it is groping for His hand in the darkness until you find it, wordlessly holding on as He leads you down this unknown path . . .
it is enough. You are enough.
Our focus for the past week of Story101 has been on writing our hard thing, whatever that may be. This entry is a small piece of that process for me.