Inexpressible Groanings

It’s been an odd few weeks, with the returned gathering of the sticky black cloud. I mostly blame the humidity. It’s that part of summer where the air is thick and hot, seemingly acerbating feelings or motivations. I don’t want to do anything. I only want to lounge and wait for the crisp relief of an autumn day (which may be months away). I’ve managed by venerating the genius of Willis Carrier and looking up housing prices in Nordic regions. But mostly, summer is a season of endurance for me.

So it’s no surprise that the image of the Holy Spirit as a rushing wind is appealing in this season. Who wants tongues of fire? I want cooling consolation.

From the readings Sunday: “The Spirit comes to the aid of our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes with inexpressible groanings. And the one who searches hearts knows what is the intention of the Spirit, because he intercedes for the holy ones according to God's will” (Romans 8:26-27).

What a comfort that is. I’ve struggled with relating to the Holy Spirit, as I’m not a charismatic worshipper. But I do think my relationship with that person of the Trinity has grown in the past few years. And I’m grateful I can appreciate the movement of the Spirit. The Spirit rushing overs like a wind, searches the heart, and hears the prayers that can’t be uttered. Sometimes I can’t articulate a prayer. Sometimes I don’t even know what to pray for. But the Spirit answers that basic desire to pray, responds to a soul silently crying out.

I love words. I want to understand everything and organize that information. But sometimes words fail. Sometimes understanding fails. There are inner longings looking for God that cannot wait for my limited capacity to catch up. They are in a long, hot summer within me, burning up and seeking solace. The Spirit sees and responds, even when I can’t pray, even when I don’t fully notice. The Spirit moves within me, around me, beyond me, like a consistent breeze. An appreciated moment of fresh air to tide me over until the haze fades, the air cools, and I find my words again.