A Prayer and a Half

A somber moment with God in humility and Authenticity.

Hey God,

How are you doing? I was reflecting this week about the many Psalms that David wrote in times of distress and equally times of success. I realize that he was a shocking author even now because he didn’t write to my right or correct, he truly emptied His heart with a reverence that you see through him. I am beginning to see that writing with rawness is a human discipline that I must exhibit if I am to draw close to you. Because if I’m serious about what I believe of you, there is no shock. You want me like a kid that stole candy to come and tell you what you already know. It’s the act of letting go of my facade that bonds me ever closer with you.

I’m struggling to. Even now, I don’t want to go there. I’m riding high and low at the same time. I feel like life is mixing cocktails like mocktails. Life is no king me and forcing me to tell the tales. Life is shoving bitter and sweet down my throat and she is not even allowing me see it on my plate first.

I’ve just returned from a Nuru massage. It might as well have been a sex purchase or really paid prostitution. I sat in my car for like 30 minutes deciding. And I couldn’t hear you. I prayed for you to change my heart and make the decision for me but you didn’t. I know that isn’t how you work but quite frankly, I am tired of the way you work. I am tired of praying and you don’t come through on time or the way I expect. I have even prayed scripture. I have been asking and pleading for you to work in my heart and change my desires and loosen the grips of these vices on me. Somehow it feels like I am regressing.

I’ll be honest, I know that my prayer isn’t consistent. But how long do I need to pray before I see progress. I am afraid that my heart is getting so callous that sin will no longer prick it. I am truly thankful for nights like this where I still feel guilt. Not enough to cry or but enough to be somber. Enough to know that it isn’t right. Enough to still want that transformational touch that I know you possess.

God, is time running out on me? I don’t wanna remain a spiritual imbecile. I feel a cognitive reckoning of right but a physical blindness in my senses to act or follow it’s lead. It’s as of there is two masters in my being and my flesh is king. When it comes to this Vice especially sexual pleasure. There doesn’t seem to be a Holy voice loud enough to turn my away from seeking to indulge.

I only have enough strength to seek indulgence in ways that do not cause my brethren, I mean sisters to stumble. If she is already struggling with it, I don’t Mind joining the struggle and wrestling together and indulging together but I run if she had a sensitive enough conscience to this sin. I even clap for myself like it makes me good, maybe even godly to shield your children.

God, I’m doing a lot of talking but I really just want to hear you say something. Let me know that it’s gonna be okay. Let Me know that grace abounds. Let me feel your warmth embrace. I’m covered in oil and aroma from that neighbor you warned us to not look at her street. I’m drenched in the reminder and now the memory of pleasure; competing this moment with the subtle voice of your Spirit. Can you speak louder or something? Or can you quench my thirst for pleasure.

I know you told that woman at the well that after 5 men, you have the living water that quenches her thirst. Can I get a sip of that water because I am dehydrated by sin. This sexual sin had become sea water to my soul. I feel stuck with it, and I just keep getting more thirsty.

My fear ultimately isn’t my final destination. My fear is the rate at which I lose answers and rebuttals to what sim whispers. Sin’s voice is so tender and moist, it sinks to the bottom of desires like a scuba divider tied to a heavy stone. I need to break this momentum, I see death. The death you warned Adam about. I see it. I need another way.

God, I guess I didn’t get to the praise. I’ll surely be back but first, may it be known that of all my reasons to be grateful, I am thankful that you listen out for me, that you hear me, that you are not only LORD but you are my defense counsel and my friend. Who else can I tell this too and hope to have an answer that will give me life itself. Who can truly reach the bottom part of my heart’s barrel. I know I need to empty it of the crude that occupies it today. I need something lighter, maybe your Living water.

If I may ask, can your water have some taste?

--

--

--

I’m an aspiring story teller that is learning to let stories tell their own morals. You’ll find me where Faith-Tech-Art meet.

Recommended from Medium

What My Puppy Knows About Thunder (That I Don’t)

The Path of Consciousness

God centered meditation

The Great Silent War & The Gift of Self-Fulfilling Prophecy

LET’S TALK ABOUT SEX, ACTUALLY

Jade Nanton is smiling at the camera in a colour photo that is cropped from head to shoulders.

This Morning From the Bhagavad-Gītā

On Faith and Games of Chance

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store
Adedolapo Olisa

Adedolapo Olisa

I’m an aspiring story teller that is learning to let stories tell their own morals. You’ll find me where Faith-Tech-Art meet.

More from Medium

YOU GET WHATEVER COMES YOUR WAY.

The Dialogue▪︎

I’m Not Afraid to Write about Anything But Women

I Am Not Black, I Am African