Midnight Needs

He posed a question. “What is prayer? Is it like meditation?”

My answer came tonight. “Prayer, is not like meditation. It’s far from it. Quite simply, prayer is talking to God.”

When I was younger, I only knew to pray with my understanding. I prayed as best as I could. But now, I know to pray in the Spirit. It’s best when my spirit prays because God is a spirit. He is seeking those who will worship in spirit. When I pray in the spirit, it flows right out of me. Ironically it’s more natural. You could say it’s a deeper way of praying. I’d even say praying with one’s understanding is like surface level intimacy, kissing and holding hands but in the spirit it is, well, rather quite a bit more, like sex. It is strenuous and yet pleasurable activity between two parties, one strong, one weak, one up, one down

 
Praying in the spirit requires an opening up. No holding back. It’s an opening to God. It’s an expression. It’s not so easily defined and confined. And just like most human expressions, it’s beauty comes through freedom. It’s praying with freedom of language. Thus it takes on various styles and manners. Elijah bowed his head to ground, Hannah sat weeping, Jesus groaned with loud cries, His sweat turning to blood. After all, why not? Intercourse works in several positions. So, I start out sitting on my bed, very quietly, but eventually I’m down on the floor, rocking back and forth, leaning on my door, groaning, my spirit so stirred, tears flood my eyes and my back arched, my head bowed, my whole body shaking with emotion. It’s so very real, I can’t control it. It’s not my own rhythm, it’s His and mine and this is our deepest form of communion. If I was just meditating, if I was the one doing this, then I’d have control. My body wouldn’t be racking with pain and joy at the very same time. If this wasn’t a two-part thing, if this was just a connection with myself, it wouldn’t be so. I let Him drive. I let Him lead me. I’ve had enough of me, it’s time to have some of Him- His divine nature, His glorious perfection, His sweet holy intoxication, His furious love, His burning desire, His ferocious anger. It’s the middle of the night and possibly the best time for this activity- prayer or sex. The atmosphere is here, induced by music playing, it’s one song on repeat but it’s doing justice. There’s a stage set. And there’s only two actors. It’s myself and God, and it’s all behind closed doors (curtains?). It gets loud. It gets very passionate. I’m putting all my energy in and pacing back and forth because I can’t stay still. I’m repeatedly mentioning His name. I lift my hands and then drop them to my sides. I place them on my head. I literally do not know what to do.
 
And how did this start? It came from a very real need. It sprang from a desperate longing (craving, thirst, desire, call it whatever). But there’s freedom and we can go till whenever if we so wish. I’m not alone. I’ve connected with my God and He is penetrating me to the innermost of my very soul. I don’t want to ever let go. I want to pause and drink in the moment. I want to leave it in my memory and in time and space, I want to just let it. I forget about what the results, the product, the outcome of this wrestle with God may be, only the moment is of essence. My heart has had this hole. It’s only one hole. And God has exactly everything, the only thing that is- a perfect fit. And I don’t need any other protection. We’re wrapped around together so tight. Heaven’s kiss is the sweetest. In his arms, I really get the feel we’re flying. It’s no wonder the psalmist writes about His “wings”. There’s light and beauty and love and liberty. It’s perfection. Because now I’ve cried out, I’ve petitioned in a language I do not understand and so I sit back. I guess we’ve reached a climax. I’m down to a whisper. My lips are still moving and Heaven is still receiving. I opened up real wide so we’re not really done. Now I’m just wondering if He has really come. I have to remind myself this is real life. I feel half human, half spirit. A part of me left and joined Him. And since we’re joined at the hip, when He lets go, I might be left limping. I hope He never lets go. It’s just so magical. Now I see a little cloud. Lined with gold. Hope is here. Peace is restored. Goodnight.”
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