I must confess that I am addicted to prayer. Not because I am super spiritual but because I am human with many frailties. I cannot function and my days seem to fall apart without prayer. I really am a hot mess without it, ask my husband and children. There is just something about throwing myself at the feet of Jesus, telling Him all my unedited thoughts. In prayer I don’t have to tell Him what I think He wants to hear. I tell Him what I am really feeling, the good, the bad and the ugly. Then I take Him up on His word and ask Him to fix me. Fix the mess, the pain and the hurt.
There are times when I just sit and cry but I am fully convinced that He understands the meaning of each tear. While the cause of my pain may not immediately go away, just being in God’s presence crying like a baby gives me a peace beyond my understanding. I leave with a confidence that it is going to be alright. I may not know how it will work out, but our time together reminds me that it will and all for my good.
Then there are those times I run to prayer begging the Lord to tell me that I am not crazy for standing in faith even though I feel bullied by doubt and all his buddies. The times where the comments of others cause me to question if I am being too extreme, taking this faith thing a little too far. Ever been there? The times where I need to have the Lord comfort me and remind me that walking by faith will seem foolish to the world but it pleases Him, and in the end that’s all that matters.
I also have times of carrying the burdens of those I love, rolling over in my head how to fix them and their situation. At times the burden leaves me paralyzed because I want to make it all better. Then I am reminded that while I have no power to fix anything or anyone, I can pray. I become even more confident when I remember that God hears my prayer and is able to change any situation, no matter how hopeless. So I come to God on their behalf and do what I should have done in the first place…PRAY!
Then there are times where praise and adoration flow from my lips and I am overwhelmed with thanksgiving. The more I rehearse His goodness, the more I become aware of how awesome He is and I don’t want the moment to stop. I look for the pause button in these moments of sweet communion, hoping the phone wont ring and the children will remain asleep. But inevitably these moments of prayer have to come to an end, but the residue of praise remains.
Yes I am addicted. I am not looking for a cure, just for more! How about you, are you addicted to prayer? How has prayer benefited you?
1 Thessalonians 5:17: NEVER STOP PRAYING