It was great. The atmosphere was great. Just eight of us, praying, singing - The one thing I desire in my life, Lord, to thirst and hunger after You alone - and the praying was soft at first, but when even two or three are gathered truly in His name, there He is amongst us. You could feel it in the air. He was there. There in the little classroom, in ACJC. And we began to pray more loudly, more courageously, more fervently. There He was with us.
We all took turns to voice out our prayer for God and the rest of us to hear, while the rest continued reaching out to Him in that personal way nobody else - not even ourselves - except God can understand. And I wanted to say something; I wanted to pray for the group. We were a special group of Christians; coming from a church of charismatic practices, of such free, unrestrained worship, a church where we truly experience God, where tears flow. Every church is different; you can't really explain it. We weren't placed in City Harvest or ACJC by random. Everything has its purpose - "you were never here by chance".
And I wanted to pray for us, this group of special people, blessed to have experienced Him and experienced salvation - a blessing many have yet to experience. But I didn't know what to say. As I prayed in Tongues with the rest, for a period of time my mind wasn't really focused on God - it was more focused on trying to come up with something to say.
And then I realised how wrong I was by even trying to do that. By doing that, I was doubting God's anointing and His ability to put the right words in me. I was relying on my own strength.
But submit it all to God - lift everything into His hands, and He'll take care of it.
And when the phrase "Religious emphasis week" appeared in my head like a light bulb that had suddenly been flicked on, courage filled me and I spoke out - in words, as a message to God as well as the seven others - unprepared, not knowing what I was going to say next, but knowing that there couldn't be a better prayer because it was the words the Holy Spirit was putting in my mouth. As I prayed, I found myself on the verge of tears. I found myself straining my voice, pleading. I found myself saying a prayer from a particular burden that had been affecting me personally, one that I previously couldn't put my finger on. As I prayed for everyone in the room, I knew this was my burden, what I truly felt in my heart but never knew how to express in words.
It was amazing.
The eight of us - we know what salvation feels like. Life before and after meeting Christ might not seem that drastically different to many around us, but we know how much it has changed in the way and reason we do things; in our conscience - that nagging voice that pops up when we forget; in our ability to hold on to faith - in our hope in a God we cannot see, yet can feel.
True salvation is something beautiful. Getting close to God, though, is something that takes a lot of time and perhaps some struggle and spiritual warfare. It isn't easy to build a relationship with someone you never see - it's easy to forget He sees all.
I've deviated so far from what I wanted to say that I don't even know how to continue or end this.
In God alone I place my trust
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