I breathe in the crisp, night air. It is snowing. The neighbors’ yards are glistening with what snow has already fallen. The road is wet and intermittently icy. There are Christmas tree lights in many windows. Lamp light warms the living rooms of the houses that I pass by. I can see into my parent’s front window. My entire family is inside. All the children are in bed, the adults gathered in the living room/dining room. Soon I will join them. But not now. Not yet.
A sudden and intense longing to move my legs and breathe some fresh, winter air has landed me in the middle of the street. And in my haste I have only taken the time to don a pair of tennis shoes and a light jacket over the pajama pants and t-shirt I was already wearing. The wind cuts through the thin fabric of my attire. Ice cold water climbs my pants as each blue cuff drags the ground. The moisture quickly seeps into my shoes as well, and my wet socks begin to cling to my frozen toes. I stick my hands into my jacket pockets to spare them from the frigid air. Instinctively, my shoulders hunch and my core muscles contract in their effort to protect me from the cold, and for several moments I allow them to.
I walk in silence, filling my lungs with the cold, winter air, then slowly letting it all back out again. But my hunched shoulders and contracted core are counteracting my deep breaths and preventing the relaxation that usually accompanies them. When I realize this, I make the decision to let go and to be fully present in my cold surroundings instead of trying to hide from them. The difference this makes is remarkable. Almost instantly all of the tension I am holding begins to melt, like that last thin layer of snow that still covers the ground on a sunny winter day. Somehow, in the moments following, the cold doesn’t seem to bother me so much.
“I don’t know what to pray for, God.” I finally blurt out quietly, without really meaning to, shaking my head. This confession breaks the night’s silence as well as the disconnect I have felt for several days now. “I know that I need You. I know that I need…something. Please help me.”
What happens after I utter my plea, “please help me”, I can only describe as a direct response from my Father in Heaven and a truly incredible experience- like He is praying the prayer for me and answering it all at the same time, telling me what I should ask for, then granting the request the moment it is asked.
The words in bold are the words that came to my mind, that I offered to Him. The words in italics were the words He gave back to me.
my children– patience. a fresh perspective.
future children– peace. hope. that I will not live in fear. that my hope will be in God, not in my own plan.
my husband– to be Jesus to him. compassion. keeping the fire burning.
my family– appreciation.
our small group– inspiration.
the lost– wisdom for how to serve and love them.
my purpose– clarity. a vision.
my passion– direction.
A calmness and a sense of clarity fill my heart and my mind as I meditate on each word He gives me.
When I am almost back to the house, I feel I should end my prayer as I often do- by counting my blessings. Immediately when this thought comes to mind, He reminds me to be thankful for my health, my home, my family, and hope. And oh, how right He is! My heart feels as though it will burst with gratitude for the blessings He has given me.
As I walk back up the driveway, the scripture, “If we don’t know how or what to pray, it doesn’t matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. He knows us far better than we know ourselves.” Romans 8:26-27, plays through my head and makes me wonder- was tonight an example of this?
I think I will always remember, how on this Christmas night, if only for a few minutes, the world around me was silent and white. And how when I stepped outside in pursuit of a walk and a deep breath, the ensuing stillness led me back to my Creator.
“Be still and know that I am God.” Psalm 46:10
2echoEcho 