Tuesday, May 12, 2009
I got my prayer language on Sunday night. Over the past week or two, the Lord has brought it to my attention that my hang-up with not getting my prayer language is that I always have to think through what I am going to say before it comes out of my mouth. Well, you cannot think through a prayer language. It flows out of the spirit and not the mind, so there is no room for premeditation. This messes up my control-freak nature of speaking. As I lay in my bed praying for Stacy’s protection on Sunday night, I surrendered my tongue to the Lord. I gave up control and asked Him to take over. I uttered a couple sounds that had been ringing in my mind for some time, and the language of the spirit bubbled up forth from my diaphragm. It was so weird. I thought it must have just been gibberish, and it seemed so odd and unnatural. But I guess that it is unnatural. It is spiritual. The crazy thing is that just when these heavenly utterances were flowing forth from my spirit, my friend was screaming at the top of her lungs as a jeep pulled into her driveway, hesitated, and backed out. She was afraid it was her brother coming to kill her and her mom. I am wondering if I was given tongues at that time for that very reason. As I was driving over to my friend's house later, I was battling in the Spirit. I believe that the Lord used this spiritual language to protect us on Sunday night. I have never experienced a night like that before. We read scripture, my friend cried, she kept me awake through her fear. Her anxiety was calmed and then awakened again. She was hyper aware of every sound. I sensed such oppression and overwhelming evil in the house that I could hardly bear it. I have never been so relieved to hear my alarm go off. I came home at 6, got ready, and slept until 8 when it was time for work. Praise the Lord that He gave me strength for the next day. I was afraid that the spiritual prayers were a one-time occurrence, but they remained. I prayed them the next morning and afternoon. I prayed them today…in the car, in the shower, in my room. I am afraid to let anyone hear them. I am afraid they sound crazy. They are more guttural sounds: not at all lady like. They just sound like gibberish, but they give me a wonderful sense of being completely out of control. There is a rushing torrent of power that spills forth from the core of my being when these sounds are coming out. It is so fulfilling, so invigorating, so freeing. I must balance praying in the spirit with praying with my mind, as Paul admonishes. In light of this, I see great potential in this gift. I do not want to elevate it. I want discernment within it. I want more freedom and more abandon. I want to fear spontaneity less and let go more. I love the reckless abandon. But I desire a balance. Some people will understand and rejoice. Others will not. Some will be indifferent. Some may be disdainful. I just find it very providential that Janelle would mention it last week and promise to pray that God would give me my prayer language, that Shelby my roommate would have a prayer language, that my good old southern Baptist best friend would disclose that she has a personal prayer language, and then that the Lord would bring forth my personal prayer language. I know that it is in line with the Word. I know that in my spirit, I feel a peace and confirmation in its validity. I pray that I will come to know more and more the power of this gift and experience more fully the character and heart of the Lord in the exercise of this gift. I am thrilled. I am nervous. I am hopeful. I am still skeptical. But I am seeking His face, and He is faithful to reveal Himself when we seek Him.