Fighting for the Secret Place
The everyday life of an unraptured Christian
Writing with Jesus is a reader-supported publication where laughter is found, tears are shed, and faith is made steadfast. Writings on wrestling with God, motherhood, and some comedy to lighten the mood.
Reader, I’ll be honest with you. I have little to give writing-wise lately. Call it a case of writer’s block perhaps. I have an entire list in my phone of ideas that I look forward to writing. I type out the title, right after I’ve decompressed after putting my baby girl to sleep for the night, knowing my flight attendant husband won’t be home from the airport for at least another two to four hours, excitement builds, and then… nothing. All I can get myself to write is the title.
The part of me that has fought for self-compassion says, “It’s been a busy month. And a hard one.” I’ll save you the trauma dump of everything that is going painfully awry as we try to sell our condo and move into a house. My husband and I have clung to each other and the Lord, shook our fists and wrestled with Him, cried out and complained and lamented with Him, re-surrendered, prayed in faith (or tried to), and as February comes to a close, I still feel like I’m bent over panting, hands on my knees, sweating and groaning, longing nothing more than to crawl into the lap of the Father. To hear Him tell me that He works all things together for the good of those who love Him.1 But when, Lord? I cry out.
There’s been joy this month too, though. Great joy.
One of my best friends (and one of the godliest people I’ve ever known) got married, and I was a bridesmaid. It was hands down one of the best days of my life, as unique as that might sound. She is a missionary and her and her now husband feel called to the nations. Their wedding was truly a taste of Heaven on earth, of the wedding feast that Jesus, the Bridegroom, invites us to. I wept many times that day, partly out of joy for her and her covenant love with her husband, and also from the sheer power of the Holy Spirit falling on me whenever we worshipped.2
We celebrated our baby girl’s first birthday, threw her a precious storybook themed birthday party with all her closest baby friends, babysitters, and family members.
It was Valentine’s Day (one of me and my husband’s favorite holidays. Naturally, we do it big).
But in the madness of problems we are facing trying to move, party planning, travelling for a wedding, working, doctor’s appointments, etc., I found myself fighting for time in the secret place, and fighting with my emotions because I hadn’t been in the secret place enough.
“But when you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you.” Matthew 6:6
“He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.” Psalm 91:1 NKJV
This isn’t new. I’ve been fighting for time in the secret place ever since I became a mama. The secret place has been in the shower, in the kitchen while my daughter screams from her highchair, in the dead of night rocking a sleeping baby who will surely wake up if I attempt to transfer her to the bassinet or crib, in the armchair in our plant-filled nook, baby monitor in sight, with that lingering anticipation that she might wake up at any moment and interrupt my alone time with the Lord.
On good days when my husband is home to watch baby Daisy, I have the luxury of going on a prayer walk, of sitting in the sun and next to the trees, of going into another room to pray on my knees or prostrate.
Reader, the secret place was one of the things that changed my life. If you’ve read my previous post I was Delivered from Mental Illnesses by the Power of the Holy Spirit & I'm Afraid to Talk about It: Why getting sold out for Jesus made me question my career as a therapist, I mention how I would go on hour long prayer walks and come home to read the Bible before going to work. I was single, living alone renting in a little 1940 plant-filled abode. Getting in the secret place was easy. I was so new to being sold out for Jesus, I actually didn’t know what a secret place was or that I was already spending time in there.
My missionary friend (the one who just got married) would always be saying “secret place this”, “secret place that”.
“What is the secret place?” I began to question, and upon learning what it was, exclaimed excitedly, “Oh, I do that! I go to the secret place every day! Multiple times per day!”
I had that luxury at the time. It was a gloriously beautiful season of my life. I longed for nothing more than His presence, to hear His voice, to sit at His feet, and in return He rewarded me with Himself, with peace, with wisdom, with purity, with a transformation that would make me unrecognizable from who I was before wholeheartedly following Jesus and spending that much time with Him.
But getting in the secret place is not a luxury these days. It’s a fight.
This past week one of the two days that I work (I’m a therapist, mental health counselor, same thing) I had an hour until the next client, and I was longing for nothing more than the secret place. I had hours of clinical documentation to get started on, I was hungry because it was lunch time, but this hour was all I had for the day. So, I cracked open my Bible, spent time in the Word, and then got on my knees to be in His presence. I opened up a new journal I was gifted recently and spent the last slivers of time I had left writing to the Lord and praying in the Spirit.
I won’t go into the details of my time in secret with God. It’s supposed to be “secret” after all. But I will say that I was flooded with peace. I thought I would go in there with all my laments, all my complaints, my tired and frustrated heart, but my flesh was eradicated by just being in His presence. Only my spirit remained, and it just wanted Him. And once again, just as He did for me when I went through revival, He rewarded me with Himself, His presence, His peace, His wisdom, transforming my heart around our current circumstances.
Reader, you might already know this, but we can’t do anything well unless it comes out of the overflow of our time with God and our intimacy and relationship with Him. I couldn’t in good conscience write anything because there was no overflow. Honestly, there still isn’t much. This is it. You’re looking at it.
My flesh and pride want to send out a newsletter to this growing audience with a trimmed and ready presentation that glorifies God with joy and inspiration. But let’s be real, the mundane, every day, Monday through Friday life with God isn’t always joyful and inspirational 100% of the time.
It’s waking up dreading to go to work and intentionally reminding ourselves that work is worship, that even Adam was directed to work and tend to the Garden of Eden before the fall. Work was originally, only good. It’s a tired hormonal mama striving for time to read the Word and get in the secret place. It’s running late, being in a hurry, a baby that won’t sleep, an engine light on the dashboard, avoiding that person at church who you’ve been meaning to go all Matthew 18 on and confront, the conviction that you haven’t, falling short as a spouse over something small, reconciling, repenting, and a million other things.
We are in constant states of refinement.
The Monday through Friday life as a Christian begs us to trust the Lord over and over again.
Our everyday life screams that we are not in Heaven.
So, this is me, in the messy middle of life, because honestly, when is it ever not at the very least a tiny bit messy, here to walk alongside you as a sister in Christ with a lukewarm coffee, one for you too, the baby monitor in sight, a pile of unfinished work to do, and dishes, and a gentle hand outstretched to ask you,
How is your heart?
Are you finding time in the secret place? How’s it going?
Can I get you anything? A croissant? Some water? Ice or no ice?
Can we pray?
Katie Donohue Tona
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“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” Romans 8:28
Matthew 22, Luke 14, Revelation 19
This encouraged me, Katie. Lately in my times in my own secret place I've been unable to express what I want to say to the Lord, which makes it difficult, naturally, to find words to move my thoughts onto the printed page. But Romans 8:26 reminds us that the Spirit knows how to interpret our wordless groans into prayers. When there are too many interruptions or too much heaviness to write, the Holy Spirit hears what we're trying to say, what we want to say. The vital thing is to keep seeking out time with God in those secret moments and to keep listening for his voice.