On our first day in Thailand, we attended a worship service with the kids and staff at the ZOE children’s home. Our team stood on the stage and introduced ourselves to the room by saying our names. An instruction was given to the room in Thai, and almost before it had a chance to be translated into English for us, the kids and staff rushed up to the stage to gather around us, lay hands on us, and pray for us. The room was filled with the sound of many voices crying out to God and praying over us. I have no idea what was said. It was a powerful moment, and many of my teammates were moved to tears. The ZOE family was eager to pray for us, though they didn’t know us yet. There is something that words cannot describe about being surrounded by so many praying all at the same time, knowing that though you don’t understand the words these children you have never met, many of whom have experienced the worst kinds of evil on the planet, are praying God’s blessing over you.
We worshipped with the ZOE family that night. I have never seen such passionate, eager worship before. Every child and nearly every adult in the room was clapping, jumping, singing praises at the top of their lungs. It was overwhelming. As I looked around and took it in, I could see the joy on the faces of these kids as they raised their hands to praise their Savior.
In that moment, I felt the Spirit nudge my heart with conviction. Their worship was whole-hearted, expressed with their entire bodies, unhindered by what others might think of them. My worship is often surface-level, going through the motions, half-hearted, and definitely hindered by fear of what others would think. I bowed my head and confessed quietly to the Lord that I don’t worship him as he deserves.
A few days later, I stood in a corner of a classroom, wrestling with God. I felt useless in my assigned spot, unable to understand or contribute to what was going on. God felt pretty distant. My energy was waning, I hadn’t had a cool “God-moment,” and I hadn’t sensed God speaking to me, as many of my teammates had. My team leader came and motioned for me to step out into the hallway, where he reminded me that in those moments where I felt useless, I should turn to prayer. Pray for the people leading the outreach. Pray for Thailand. Pray for the hearts of the kids. Pray for child trafficking to end. He then prayed for me, reminding me through his prayer that I have the power of the Holy Spirit inside of me.
After I got my emotions under control enough to step back into the classroom, I went back to the corner where I sat and continued to wrestle with God. I struggle with prayer. Lack of focus plagues me, I don’t feel like my prayers are getting answered, and it doesn’t look or feel like I’m doing anything useful when all I’m doing is praying. It looked like I was being asked to fill multiple hours with prayer (since the previous day I had felt useless basically the entire time), and that was a task that felt…unpleasant. I was immediately convicted – this is talking to my heavenly father!
I started to just tell God what was going on. I told him that I didn’t know what to pray for. I told him that I was feeling weak, and prayed for strength. I prayed for the Thai staff, the missionaries, the hearts of the kids. My words were far from eloquent and there were plenty of times where I sat still with nothing much to say. It didn’t immediately take away this feeling of being useless. But at lunch time I heard a story that encouraged my heart.
During the morning, I had felt a tug on my heart to pray specifically for one of my teammates. At lunch, I found out that the group she had been working with was fielding some really difficult and specific questions about human trafficking, at the time I had been praying for her. I almost started crying again when I heard this. Here was the “God-moment” I had been waiting for. Even in my weakness, my poor attitude, and my lack of faith, God was working in and through me and my broken prayers.
The following night left the deepest impact on me. We joined the ZOE family in their weekly prayer night. I didn’t want to – I was exhausted and only wanted to sleep. We walked into the room and the lights were dim and worship music was playing. I paused in the middle of the room and just took it all in for a few moments. All around the room, people were crying out to God in prayer. Some walked around the room, some stood still. Some knelt or sat. Some were alone, some were praying together.
I was immediately overwhelmed by something in the room, and I began to tear up. Then one of the youngest ZOE kids came up to me. She took hold of my hand, smiled up at me, and then started to pray for me (keep in mind that she is speaking Thai and I don’t understand what she is saying). I lost it. I wept, I ugly cried, for a good twenty minutes. After she finished praying for me and walked away, I sat down on the floor, put my head in my hands, and wept. As I sat there, so many girls came by and prayed for me. I don’t know a word of what was prayed over me, but I could feel the power and effectiveness of their prayers. I just cried and cried.
Eventually I pulled myself together enough to pray for others. I’ve already mentioned that prayer is hard for me – intercessory prayer without knowing specific prayer requests is a completely foreign concept to me. For the first time in my life that I can remember, I felt God giving me the words to say in a way that I simply cannot explain. I prayed over these girls and young women and I knew that the things I was praying for were not things I would have thought up on my own. God was leading me in my prayers. I could tangibly feel the Spirit’s presence in that room.
When it was over, after an hour that felt much too short, I sat in a sort of shocked daze for a few minutes. I was absolutely emotionally charged and drained all at the same time. I have never experienced prayer like that in the states before.
On my first Sunday back in church in the states, it was like all the ways I was convicted and impacted and moved in worship and prayer in Thailand were suddenly undone. I stood in the pew, stiff and straight like nearly everyone around me. I sung the words to the songs without letting them reach my heart. My worship was controlled and measured, and I did not worship God in the unhindered way that I had felt convicted to while I was in Thailand. I’ve struggled over the past few weeks. I long to feel the Spirit moving in me in the way that I felt while praying and worshipping in Thailand. It was an experience I will never forget, one I will remember every time I sit in a church service, one I hope to repeat again in the not too distant future.
This is such an honest post. Thank you. I know you shared much of this story with me, but reading it was powerful. God is at work! Let us both keep growing in honesty with Jesus and in unhindered worship. 💗
Reading this stirred a longing in my heart to worship the way you did in Thailand. Thank you for sharing and thank you for being authentic in the struggles you faced. It’s something I feel many people experience at times but don’t vocalize due to a fear that their faith is lacking in some way that is not common to others. Thank you for reminding us that we are not alone and that God answers us in pleasantly surprising ways.