Have you ever desperately prayed to God for something? I’m not talking about wishing with all your heart, or begging God as a child pleads with their parent for something they saw in a commercial. But have you ever sunk to your knees, alone by your bed or chair, hands clenched together, speaking out loud to God, asking for wisdom that you know you don’t have yet? Asking God to speak directly to you, to give you a clear path for your feet, and not giving up until God speaks? I’ve only done this a handful of times in my life. This is largely because I let so many things distract me after I begin to pray. I start to focus on my sleepiness and just crawl into bed by impulse, or I realize I’m quite thirsty and must remedy my dehydration, or my stomach growls, thus ending my much-needed talk with God, leaving God attentively standing there as I go off to find a bedtime snack (which is not a good idea anyway).
The times I have prayed with that kind of dedication were the times I found myself suddenly at the end of my emotional, physical or spiritual rope and I furiously needed God to move, because I could do nothing and had nowhere else to go. Do I always have to let myself reach that point where I’m flat on the floor before I will look up? Do I have to wait to turn to God until God is the only option I have left?
I found myself strangely overwhelmed this week, not that it was an unusually busy week or because anything bad had happened, but I just felt it, and it seemed to surround me. Maybe I’ve let things build quietly for months now, I really don’t know. But then I remembered God, and I remembered the covenant we’ve been walking together in for many years now. So I stopped what I was doing, found a quiet and private place, and laid out what’s going on to God, piece by piece, item by item, stressor by stressor… and no joke, I had brand new thoughts on what to do next, or in some cases, a tangible peace and decided trust that I did not have before about the problem.
I’m much freer now. I can breathe. I know that God’s got me, and now I can keep walking forward.