Raspberry Iced M

I once heard someone say that the devil can hear the words we say out loud, and in fact, those words are sometimes what he uses as an opening to create chaos in our lives.

I started a prayer journal in September, and while I wonder if the devil can read the words, I still write my nightly prayer in the journal. I think it started out as something obligatory – I wanted to pray every day – and I wanted to be able to track it.

Now, I find myself utilizing that journal for continuity, and because it is a habit. But I talk to Jesus all day…

…because I learned that praying isn’t just a task to complete every day. It’s not a habit to track. For me, now, it’s a way of life. I know what happens when I don’t pray. And I don’t want any part of that life anymore.

I pray while I’m getting ready for the day. I pray in the car while running errands. I pray when I’m happy, when I’m sad, when I’m overwhelmed. I pray when my feelings are hurt. I pray when I’m lonely. I pray when I mess up. And I pray when faced with any decision, no matter how insignificant it seems at the time.

I talk him Jesus like I would talk to a human being standing in front of me. Sometimes it’s emotional. Other times He’s just helping me pick out a cantaloupe.

But not all of my prayers out spoken…out loud.

Some of them don’t make it past my thoughts.
Some of them don’t feel polished enough to say.
Some of them feel too honest. Too raw. Too unfinished.

There are prayers I don’t say out loud because they don’t sound the way I used to think prayers are “supposed” to sound. They’re not structured. They trail off when my ADD kicks in. They aren’t confident or full of faith.

This morning, I thought, “Lord, I have no idea what you’re doing. And I don’t like not knowing. I don’t know if I can do this.”

And then I got out of my car and paid the groomer.

Likewise, there are some prayers I hesitate to verbalize because they reveal things I am still working through. Fear. Doubt. Insecurity. Anger. Frustration. Guilt/Shame. Not because I think the Lord doesn’t already know, but because saying them out loud makes them real in a way that feels too vulnerable. I don’t want to open any doors for the devil that I haven’t already opened.

Those prayers, in my head, sound like, “Lord, please lift the anger I have toward [insert person here],” or, “God, I can’t do everything for everybody and I’m becoming resentful,” or even, “Please help me learn how to set boundaries that are Godly and healthy.”

And some of my prayers don’t come with resolution. The prayers I repeat…they just sit there. Unanswered. Unfinished. “Is this ever going to get better?” or “Am I doing the right thing?” or “Will this situation ever change?” I don’t always say those prayers out loud because I don’t know what to do with the silence that might follow.

There are also some prayers I don’t say because I carry them quietly. In the middle of the day. While I’m working or folding laundry. While I’m ruminating. While I’m trying to hold everything together. These types of prayers aren’t traditional. I just simply ask the Lord to help me stay steady, help me not react, and to help me do the right thing is “x” situation. Short. Simple. But constant.

I’m starting to realize that God doesn’t require perfect words. He doesn’t need polished sentences or King James Version language. He doesn’t even require carefully structured thoughts. He already sees what I hesitate to say and He understands my thoughts that seem unfinished…the ones that don’t sound strong. The ones that don’t feel faithful enough.

Those prayers still count. He still hears them.

Not every prayer needs to be spoken to be real, and the truth is that He appreciates genuineness and sincerity more than a buttoned down version of me that I can’t walk in all of the time.

Some of my prayers live in quiet places in my heart and in the spaces between thoughts. In moments where all I can do is sit with what I’m feeling and hope Jesus understands what I can’t quite enunciate.

I hope He does. Maybe He always has.