Mark 1:35 Very early the next morning Jesus got up and went to a place where He could be alone and pray. (CEV)
I long to be like Jesus and to grow in my prayer life.
Personal prayer is such a guarded, private thing. I consider it “open heart” time I spend with my heavenly Father. Although through the years I have had problems with visuals. I have tried to put God in a spot, and I have Him fastened there, so he can hear me out. I have this craving to see Him, even though I know God is spirit.
There was a time I dressed Him regally (as He sat on His tall, royal throne) in long, flowing, white robes. Although I have never tried to imagine His face, I do His hands, feet and lap. I long for those hands to touch, arms to hug, and lap to hold me. “Heavenly Father” is a personal term to me.
Recently, I approach Him in my mind, and I enter a place that is filled with His presence. It is pure here, wide as the sky, yet snug as my closet. I kneel with my arms around the ones I have taken into this holy place with me. The very essence of God surrounds us as I profess my love for Him and the one whose need I present to Him. It is as though I inhale the very words or desires from the nearness of Him, and give them back to Him with groans of expectation. These are times of intercession like no other. I have no words to express the experience, and I can only say it is not of this world.
When I am alone there, praying for the person I know as me, I trust Him to clear my vision, and guide me in this time. It often makes me weak, and wary to be honest with my Lord, but the cleansing that takes place is so powerful. My prayers become “As You will.”
He has allowed me, in the days of late, to linger for a while, in a drear, shadowy valley. Yet, strangely I have found this to be a time of solid growth in faith and trust, even as I lean into the wind and the sand shifts. He has stayed close, as close as my breath to me, even nearer than when I am on the mountain top feasting on praises.
He has tendered my heart, yet given me bones of steel, and I stand in His strength. I know this comes from the time I spend in that wall-less, bright space, on my face in the midst of His presence.
“Thank you, Father, for the Spirit dwelling within who faithfully compels me to turn to You. For Your son, my beloved Jesus, who gave all so I may draw near. You know me, and that’s all I desire. Your love touches my need. I am free to trust, obey and soar in Your blessed presence… go with me as I leave this place, and remind me constantly of all You are. Amen.”
{Editor’s note: originally posted October 2011}