When I was in high school, I had a stalker.

“Leif” was in my grade and while we weren’t really good friends, we were certainly really good acquaintances. But Leif took things to a new level when he started stalking me. He would show up at Coach House Gifts when I was working and pretend to be shopping, eyeing me from across the card aisle while I tried to ignore him. Several hours later when I would leave to go to my car, he’d just happen to be driving around the mall parking lot slipping on a Slurpee purchased from the vendor where I had dinner.

At school, he knew what classes I took and waited outside of the door for me. He followed me to marching band practices and waited for me after drama and choir rehearsals. In the summer, he would drive by my house and call the moment I walked in the door. He knew where I was almost all the time.

I suppose it should have creeped me out. But the truth was, I kind of enjoyed the attention. (I wasn’t very popular in high school, don’t judge me). After awhile, I got so used to him following me around that if he wasn’t waiting for me when I left, I would feel sad–like I was no longer desirable enough to be stalked.

But my current stalker is nothing like Leif from high school. . .

The current stalker is much more stealth. I rarely see him, but somehow he enters my thoughts. Often I try to fight him away but it usually does no good. He finds sneaky, clandestine ways to let me know he is near me. Very near me. In fact, he is so good at stalking me without being seen, I’d say he’s more like a ghost who haunting my head.

Haunting Thoughts

For example, I’ll be talking to someone and suddenly a thought will cross my mind, like “You should pray for this person.” I’ll think to myself, I can pray later. But the ghost is a rather impatient spirit and so what follows feels more like a command than a suggestion. “Pray for this person right now.”

Fine, I think. They’re just talking about their stuff, they won’t know if I tune out to say a quick prayer.

But the voice will interrupt me, “Pray OUT LOUD.” (And yes, the thought-stalker does occasionally speak in all caps.)

Outloud? I think. That’s just weird. What if this person doesn’t believe in prayer? Or even God? What if I offend them? What if I pray for something and it doesn’t happen, then I’ll really look stupid!

But that voice in my head is a pushy little thing and continues to insist that I pray for the person right then and there. Sometimes I do. And sometimes I don’t. And when I don’t, it leads to the second kind of stalking.

Hijacked Thoughts

The moment passes without me doing what the voice prompted so the spirit ratchets it up a notch.

You should have prayed for her. The thought echos over and over in my mind. Only now instead of the ghost whispering, I begin talking to myself.

“I know, I know. But I thought it would be awkward to break into the conversation with a ‘Can I pray for you right now?’ I mean what would she say? ‘No?’ She has to let me pray whether she likes it or not.”

Pretty soon these kinds of thoughts have hijacked my brain. And this is exactly what that little thought stalker wants. More room for him, less for me. But controlling my mind isn’t enough. This ghost wants my body too.

Physical Haunting

Sometimes I do everything right. I immediately pray when prompted and I don’t have to be told twice. But even then my prayers can be preyed on.

For example, I’ll be riding in the car and a song will come on with the lyrics “take my life and let it be, all for you and for your glory,” and I’ll think, I should make that a prayer. So the next time the chorus comes around I sing even louder and more off-key than usual and in the privacy of my mind (which I don’t use when I sing–also explaining the off-key part) I pray, Yes, that’s what I want. Use me Lord however you can for your glory.

About this time, I’ll slow to stop at the red light and look to my right and see a homeless man with a sign that says, “Any amount will help.” And so I reach over and turn the volume up even louder to sing about how I’ll do anything for God’s glory.

Occasionally, it hits me before the light changes, but unfortunately I am often a mile away before I realize what just happened. I was supposed to be the answer to that man’s prayer.

And there are other physical manifestations.

Late one night a friend tweeted that he was having a hard time sleeping. I knew he had a big day the next day so I tweeted back that I would pray for him and I did. But for the rest of that night, I couldn’t sleep.

My friend slept fine, I’m guessing by the silence of his tweets, but somehow in praying for his sleep, I traded in mine. I blame the ghost. I think he was testing me to see how serious I was about following his orders. So just to show him, I prayed for my friend all night.

In fact, this happened again yesterday. My dear friend “Thomas” has a young son, “Jake” who had recently been diagnosed with diabetes. Jake had to take shots for the disease several times a day and for a young boy nothing is worse than getting poked with a needle. But yesterday, Jake got an insulin pump which meant no more shots.

My friend Thomas knew that I would understand what a big deal this was for Jake. I was diagnosed with diabetes nearly 35 years ago when I was eight, so of course I understood.

I also understood when Thomas asked me if I would pray, not only for Jake and his new pump, but for stamina for Thomas. The new pump meant that Thomas or his wife will have to get up every couple of hours for the first few nights and then at least once a night for the next several weeks to make sure everything is working properly. And since Thomas’s wife is out of town this week, it means Thomas is getting up every couple of hours for multiple nights in a row until she gets home.

No wonder he asked me to pray.

And I did.

I did it right then and there. I typed and emailed a prayer to Thomas as I prayed it.

And I promised to continue praying for him.

And I meant it.

But the truth is, I have no idea what it feels like to be as sleep-deprived as Thomas is (and will continue to be). In fact, I’ve been getting to bed earlier than usual this week, so perhaps my stalker realized that I didn’t even really understand what I was praying for.

That’s when the haunting began. Last night between 11:30 PM and 6:00 AM when I was supposed to be sleeping, the alarm on my pump went off. Seven times! I would be in a deep sleep and hear the alarm, wake myself up, clear it, and reset the pump. Then I would close my eyes and. . .

I would think of Thomas and Jake and think how they probably weren’t sleeping either. The ghost voice would then prompt me to pray. Though I longed to go back to sleep, I would stay awake a few minutes longer to think about what my friend was going through and pray for him in a new way, because now I could feel his needs in a way I couldn’t just a few hours earlier.

So, no, this stalker isn’t anything like Leif who kept an eye on me and kept his distance. This stalker wants as much of me as I will give him. He wants his spirit to take over my whole body, but the key is he won’t do it by force, he wants me to allow him to do it–making it my idea. Clever isn’t he?

But though this ghost leads me into many more awkward, embarrassing, and sleep-deprived situations than Leif ever did, I realize I don’t want him to leave either. He is teaching me more about myself, how to give when I don’t feel like giving, and how to in some completely incomprehensible way to trade my comfort for the pain of others. It’s not a pretty process, but somehow I think it makes me more desirable.

What about you? Have you ever felt stalked by a ghost? Been preyed on by prayer? Or had a spirit pursue you? And if so, how did you respond?

~Jennifer