Temple of Prayers

I call it my Narnia wardrobe… This makeshift closet.

I half expect Mr. Tumnus to walk out of it one of these days to offer me a cup of tea… And surely fairies would rejoice to dance in its shadows, and perhaps its wood came from a forest where a unicorn delighted to dwell.

I love it, this makeshift closet. We got it because this Rainier house didn’t have one for me, my bedroom being this great room off to the side. But because of this closetless room we found this piece of majestic furniture on Craigslist and we hauled it here.

It reminds me of mythical things now, and my soul delights in it because of that… Because my imagination runs wild in it.

But this wardrobe holds more precious things within its weathered wood, more precious even than a 17 year olds childlike wonderings.

This wardrobe holds a battlefield… A war ground… A throne room…

Because this wardrobe has become the temple of my prayers.

In the old house, back in California, I had put up this prayer wall next to my door. There upon sticky notes were the names of all whom I held dear. Every time I walked in and out of my bedroom I was reminded to lift them up before the Father.

Now in this Idaho house, this Rainier house that I have dubbed the House of Prayer, it only seems fitting that a wall goes up here as well, and in a special place too. And so it has.




In the morning, when the sunshine filters through my curtains I put my feet upon the floor and pull a chair next to my wardrobe. I open the door and rub the precious wood. It’s smooth, but not too smooth. I like the feel of it between my fingers.

There are notes scattered upon the door’s inside half. Some sticky notes cling to the wood with various papers and pages tacked up with the help of scotch tape. The assortment of names, requests, verses, and praises are written in different fonts, different colors, different formats…

Yes, even my prayers I like to have only orderly enough for a creative mind to follow.

There is this Psalm written boldly and it’s the first thing I reflect upon when I sit in my chair.

“For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be shaken. On God rests my salvation and my glory; my mighty rock, my refuge is God. Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before him; God is a refuge for us.” – Psalm 62:5-8

I close my eyes and let the truth soak into my needing soul. I sit for a few moments in silence then I put my blanket over my head and bury my face in it. In this posture I bring my praises, confessions, and requests before the throne of God.

For an hour I wait upon the Lord, seeking His face before I start my day.

The sun rises behind me and it becomes brighter through the curtains. It reminds me that my night is over with the warmth of its light. It has gone out before me to lighten this day. It is strong and unfailing, bold and beautiful.

My hour is over and I must rise from my seat. I go over to the window and part the curtains. The sun comes in unfiltered and free… But it was always free, always there. It was just waiting for me to let it in unhindered.

With that I turn to face the day before me, and am reminded that God… He compares Himself to the sun.


In Christ Alone ~EleyanaFaith



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