Victoria, Pray

Prayer has become a hug for me.

Not the kind of hug that immediately explains everything.

Not the kind that magically removes the weight from your chest.

But the kind that reminds you that even when you do not have the right words, you are still allowed to come close.

I woke up with my emotions everywhere.

I do not even know the exact thing that triggered it, but I know I cried.

Maybe it was love.

Maybe it was friendship.

Maybe it was the past.

Maybe it was that silent question I keep carrying in my heart:

Will I ever be chosen clearly?

Will I ever get to experience the kind of love I carry so deeply?

Will someone ever look me in the eye and say:

Victoria, I love you.

I want to live with you.

Not because I am available.

Not because I am convenient.

Not because I am there when they are bored.

But because I am wanted.

Because I am seen.

Because I am chosen.

Maybe it was a love story I saw.

You know those stories that make you start placing yourself inside what you are watching?

For a moment, you forget that every love story has a beginning.

You forget that the picture you are admiring may have taken years to become that beautiful.

You forget that some people are in chapter ten, and you are judging your chapter one as if it had failed.

And before you know it, your heart starts travelling.

That was me.

My heart travelled.

Then it landed in old places.

Old friendships.

Old disappointments.

Old silence.

Old moments where I was too emotionally invested in people who were not ready to hold what I was giving.

And then Romans 6:1 came to my heart:

“Shall we continue in sin that grace may abound?”

At first, I thought about it the normal way.

Sin.

Grace.

Mercy.

Repentance.

But today, it felt different.

It felt like God was showing me that sometimes what we continue in is not always loud rebellion.

Sometimes, what we continue is an old emotional pattern.

Continuing in overthinking.

Continuing in pain.

Continuing in replaying conversations that may never happen.

Continuing to want closure from people who have already answered with their silence.

Continuing in reaching out where peace has already told you to stop.

Continuing to let the past sit in the front seat of your present.

And maybe that was where the scripture met me.

Not as a condemnation.

But as a mirror.

Because sometimes, I keep returning to what breaks me and still call it processing.

Sometimes, I keep going back to the same emotional place and say, “God understands.”

And yes, God understands.

But does understanding mean I should keep living there?

That was the question.

I tried to pray.

I really did.

But I felt heavy.

It was as if the prayer was there, but the pain was louder.

My knees went down, but my mind was everywhere.

My body was in prayer, but my thoughts were moving from one memory to another.

And I felt bad.

Because I wanted to pray.

I wanted to pour.

I wanted to sound spiritual.

I wanted to have the right words.

But all I had was heaviness.

Then I spoke to someone, and the person said something simple:

Victoria, pray.

Pray when it is good.

Pray when it is bad.

Pray when life feels figured out.

Pray when nothing makes sense.

Pray when you are happy.

Pray when you are confused.

Pray when you are heavy.

Pray when you do not even know what prayer should sound like.

And I think that was the part that stayed with me.

Because prayer is not only for the moments when my heart is arranged.

Prayer is for the scattered moments, too.

Prayer is not only for when I know what to say.

Prayer is for when I do not even know how to start.

Prayer is not only for when I feel spiritual.

Prayer is for when I feel too human.

Prayer is not only for answers.

Sometimes, prayer is the answer.

I saw the person again.

The same person is connected to the confrontation story.

And for a moment, I wondered if I should say something.

But what would I say?

Hi, you were my friend, but you stopped acting like one.

Hi, I think I cared more than you did.

Hi, I do not know if this conversation still matters.

The words did not come.

Because the truth is, I did not really have words.

I had pain.

A chunk of pain that did not know if it wanted confrontation, closure, or comfort.

And maybe that is why I needed to pray.

Because if I spoke from that place, I may have said the wrong thing.

Not because my pain was not valid.

But because pain is not always a safe place to lead from.

So maybe the instruction was not, Victoria, confront.

Maybe the instruction was:

Victoria, pray.

Pray before you speak.

Pray before you reach out.

Pray before you conclude.

Pray before you turn silence into rejection.

Pray before you drag the past into another day.

Pray before your emotions become the driver.

Because I am realising that I need God in everything.

Not just in the big things.

Not just in a career.

Not just in finances.

Not just in future marriage.

Not just in the things that sound serious.

I need God in friendship.

I need God in love.

I need God in detachment.

I need God in silence.

I need God in how I process disappointment.

I need God to help me stop making people bigger than they should be in my heart.

I need God to help me stop using my past as evidence that my future will look the same.

So today’s random thought is not polished.

It is not one of those write-ups where I have fully learnt the lesson, and now I am teaching from the other side.

No.

This is me still inside the lesson.

A girl who woke up emotional.

A girl who cried.

A girl who wanted to pray but got distracted.

A girl who wanted to confront but had no words.

A girl who read Romans 6 and realised that the past can also be something you keep continuing in.

A girl who heard one instruction again and again:

Victoria, pray.

So I will pray.

Even if the only thing I can say is the following:

God, help me.

Even if tears come before words.

Even if my mind wanders.

Even if my emotions are loud.

Even if I am happy and still need Him.

Even if I am confused and still need Him.

Even if I do not have language for what hurts.

I will pray.

Because I do not want to keep continuing in the same emotional patterns and call it grace.

I want to be healed.

I want to be whole.

I want to know when to speak and when to be silent.

I want to know when to reach out and when to let go.

I want to know how to love without losing myself.

I want to know how to wait without comparing my story to someone else’s love story.

I want to know how to bring my heart back to God, even when it is heavy.

So maybe today’s lesson is simple.

When I do not know what to do, I pray.

When I do not know what to say, I pray.

When I do not know whether to confront or walk away, I pray.

When my emotions rise before my wisdom catches up, I pray.

Victoria, pray.

That is the instruction.

And for today, that is enough.

Vee’sRT