It’s nearly midnight here, as I am writing this. I have no reason to stay up late, no article due tomorrow, and I’ve just finished my last conversation for the night.

But I can’t sleep. My mind is buzzing with thoughts that I can’t even articulate just yet. All I have is this queer feeling that I have to write something, anything, before going to sleep.

It feels good.

I still remember those days when I would just cry and beg for that old restless feeling that’s just demanding for a bed of words to settle on. I miss that urgent need to write something– anything– down before going to sleep. And now the feeling’s back, and I welcome it like a friend who was gone for a long time because of some weird fight we have already forgotten.

But I don’t know what to write about. So I’m just going to start writing about this, my feeling. Because I need to write. I have to keep on writing. It all goes back to this (often ridiculous) belief that this is what I’m called to do, even if all evidences tell me otherwise sometimes.

During those times, I ask God if I’m really supposed to be a “writer” because I feel like such a fraud most of the time I’m doing this– especially whenever I get confused with my tenses. But then again, what else can I do?  Maybe I should go back to school again, or at least learn a new vocation just in case. I’m looking at dressmaking, if I can’t be a veterinarian. I mean, I love to cook, but I’m not so sure if other people would like what I cook. Maybe I can be a teacher… but then what would I teach? Writing?! HAH!

These days, I get the same feeling when I’m praying. I know I have to pray, I have this weird tugging in my heart and I just know. I know I can pray. But once I start praying, my mind starts wandering, and before I know it, I’m not praying anymore and I’m just rehearsing an imaginary conversation I have with a friend I wish I could say these things to, but can’t. And the conversation sounds like nothing what you’d hear in real life. Somewhere down the line I remember what I was doing before my eloquent speech and get back to praying. Seriously, it’s like a tug-of-war up in my head sometimes.

My rambling concentration makes me wonder if I was really supposed to pray and keep on praying after all. I mean, God already knows what I’m talking about, right? He knows what I need! So why do I have to close my eyes and stop whatever it is I’m doing and pray to somebody who I know already knows what I need, and most likely has something else better to do with His time.

But prayer is important– it’s like the need to talk to the boyfriend, the best friend, even to my mom and dad. It’s to connect with God. It’s so comforting to know that Someone is listening to me, even as I’m figuring it out by myself. God’s the best listener in the universe, seriously. He doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t argue, doesn’t walk out on me. He just lets me talk and let me work things out while I pray, and whenever He tells me something, it’s found in the Bible– which makes it hard to argue with because it was written thousands of years ago and whether I want it or not, it is still relevant today.

One of the passages I hold on to whenever I don’t know what to pray about and for, or even as I am at a loss for words to write is Romans 8:26-27:

In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God’s will.

Ok, I got my words out. I can sleep now.

But I’m going to pray first.