When We Have No Words Left to Pray
Soundless prayers are often our most powerful ones. Voiceless utterances where we connect spirit to spirit with the Lord become some of our deepest encounters. Maybe it’s because all of us is poured out before the greatness of all of him. We’re completely open. Raw. There’s no pretense or desire to impress him with our eloquent words or lists of memorized Scripture. We simply exist. Fully yielded to the One who already knows.
With no words left, when we forget how to ask, how to petition, and the sword of the Word feels too heavy on our lips, we come. We thrust ourselves before his grace and mercy, and he meets us. With the strength and gentleness of arms that can only belong to our Lord, he scoops us up and allows us to rest. His strength undeservedly becomes ours, until we can once again wield that sword with accuracy and power. Although we may not hear him say a word, we feel him—filling our most toxic places with the light of his glory. A tangible knowing far greater than natural understanding.
This is the place of abandon. It is also the place of great empowering. Though we feel shattered and undone, it’s in this place of pain that we discover how real Jesus is. Pain becomes the surgeon’s hand that opens us up to receive the new. The healthy. The unmistakably miraculous. Jesus, our Healer, knows how to turn what is meant for harm into something beautiful. The enemy cannot steal what we receive in these moments. These snippets of eternal bliss that overflow into every facet of our being become heavenly manna for us to eat. Feast upon. Serve others from.
Today, the Lord wants to remind you that he sees. He knows. He’s with you. You may feel as though darkness has swallowed you whole, but for every lie, he is the truth. Light comes on the whispers of his breath. Lean in. Rest now and receive. His love always finds a way. His strength is yours. Selah.
“Surrender your anxiety! Be silent and stop your striving and you will see that I am God”
Psalm 46:10 TPT