(Kathryn Kuhlman – Taken from the internet )

Do you believe in miracles? I’m not talking about yesterday’s miracles or tomorrow’s expectations. I’m speaking of the now, this very moment. This very breath is steeped in the presence of a supernatural God—a God who has never left the business of signs and wonders, a God who, with overwhelming love, delights in revealing Himself in the secret place, in the hidden chamber of communion where language fails and only the spirit speaks.
There is a mystery—a glorious mystery—that the carnal mind cannot comprehend. It is foolishness to the intellect, but life to the spirit. It is as old as the day of Pentecost and yet as fresh as your next breath. I speak of the divine utterance—tongues—that heavenly language which bypasses the limits of our understanding and taps into the very heart of God
You see, the moment you begin to pray in the Spirit—oh, my dear friend—something begins to happen that you cannot see with natural eyes. The heavens start to stir. The atmosphere around you begins to shift. Chains you never knew were clinging to your soul start to fall away. There is a transaction—glory to God! A transaction between earth and heaven, a divine dialogue where your spirit becomes the instrument through which God plays His melody.
Now, don’t you think for one moment that 20 minutes is just 20 minutes. No, no! When you step into those minutes, you step into eternity. Every second becomes saturated with purpose. The Spirit takes your prayers, refines them, beautifies them, and presents them to the Father with groanings that cannot be uttered by human lips. You may think you’re just praying, but the Spirit is interceding. He’s aligning you, cleansing you, preparing you—oh, what power there is when we yield.
It doesn’t begin with thunder. It doesn’t require a cathedral. It begins right there—yes, right where you are—with a humble whisper, a surrendered breath. You may feel nothing; you may sense no emotion at all. But let me tell you, that does not mean nothing is happening. There are things taking place in the spiritual realm that you cannot even begin to fathom. The Spirit of God is working behind the veil, arranging healing, delivering, and revealing.
Sometimes, the greatest miracles are the ones we never see: the habits broken in secret, the fears dissolved before they fully form, the divine ideas whispered into your soul for a season to come. All this—yes, all this—unfolds when you make room, just a little room, for the Spirit to speak through you—not with eloquence or rehearsal, but with the tongue unknown, flowing like living water from your innermost being.
Oh, how we limit God by staying within the boundaries of what we understand. But step beyond that—step into His Spirit—and you’ll discover a power not of this world. You’ll find strength you never knew you needed and answers to questions you hadn’t dared to ask—all in those sacred, holy 20 minutes.
There is a realm beyond intellect, a place where human vocabulary crumbles under the weight of divine majesty. In that realm, reason cannot lead, logic has no compass, and the mind stands still in awe. It is here that the Spirit speaks—not in the polished cadence of human language, but in the raw, pure utterance of divine mystery. This is the language of tongues. To pray in tongues is to enter a conversation already underway in the throne room of heaven. You are not initiating anything; you are joining in.
The Holy Spirit dwelling within you knows the heart of the Father. He knows the deepest needs of your soul and the intricacies of every situation surrounding you. When you open your mouth to pray in that unknown tongue, you are not just making noise. You are surrendering the most powerful part of yourself—your speech—to the One who speaks perfectly.
Scripture tells us that when we pray in tongues, we speak mysteries—not secrets, not riddles, but mysteries—truths hidden not from us, but for us, waiting to be revealed by the Spirit at the appointed time. These mysteries are not deciphered through education or training. They are not bound by earthly systems or the limits of culture and creed. They belong to the eternal mind of God, and they are accessed through the humble yielding of your tongue to His Spirit.
When you pray in your own language, you are confined to what you know. Your words are limited to your understanding, your experience, and your emotions. But when you pray in tongues, you are suddenly lifted out of that narrow space. You are no longer praying from your perspective; you are praying from heaven’s perspective. The Spirit prays through you with precision, with purity, with power. Every syllable becomes a sword, cutting through darkness, pushing back the veil, and forging pathways in the spirit that your natural mind cannot comprehend.
In those moments, your intellect may feel disconnected. It may even resist, but that is the nature of divine mystery. It requires faith to function—faith that what feels foolish is, in fact, profoundly wise. Faith that the Spirit of God is not bound by your understanding. Faith that He is doing something in you and through you, even when you cannot perceive it.
And how necessary this mystery is! How often do we find ourselves at the end of our words? How often do we groan under burdens too deep for language, too complex for explanation? In those moments, the gift of tongues becomes not just a spiritual exercise, but a lifeline—a way to cry out when you have no words left, a way to touch the heart of God when yours is too broken to try, a way to release things in the spirit that you could never articulate on your own.
This is not a performance. It is not a demonstration of spiritual maturity or religious superiority. It is the simple, profound act of letting go—of saying to God, “You know what I do not.” Utterance in tongues is like a key turning in the lock of heaven’s storehouse. It opens things, shifts things, and calls down things that you didn’t even know you needed. And yet, in the depths of your spirit, you can feel them—answers beginning to take shape, clarity forming like morning dew.
You may never fully grasp what you are saying, but you may sense the shift in your spirit as things align with the heart of God.
But trust this: the Spirit wastes nothing. Every sound, every groan, every syllable is infused with purpose. Nothing spoken in tongues is lost in the air. It goes out with authority and returns with fruit. History, by its nature, draws us in. It humbles us. It demands that we relinquish control and trust in something greater than ourselves.
Praying in tongues is the highest expression of that trust. It says, “I don’t have to understand to participate. I don’t have to control to be transformed.” And in that surrender, in that release, we are ushered into the deep—the deep where God hides His treasures, where answers are forged in silence, where power is imparted in the space between sound and understanding.
When a believer begins to pray in tongues, something profound begins to occur in the unseen. Though it may sound like a whisper to the natural ear, it resounds like thunder in the realm of the Spirit. Tongues are not just for private devotion; they are weapons, rivers, instruments of divine orchestration. To pray in tongues is not to utter empty syllables, but to engage in the very activity that shakes atmospheres and realigns the spiritual climate around you.
Atmospheres carry influence—they are not neutral. You can walk into a room and feel joy without a word being spoken. You can also walk into a space and feel heaviness, oppression, or confusion. These are not just emotional shifts; they are spiritual conditions, and they respond—oh yes, they respond—to the voice of the Spirit. When you begin to pray in tongues, you are speaking the language of heaven into the atmosphere of earth. You are injecting light into darkness, truth into deception, and power into powerlessness.
The enemy is a master of atmospheres. He cannot create, but he manipulates. He stirs fear, anxiety, and confusion like smoke into the air. But the Spirit of God, when He begins to move through your surrendered tongue, drives out that smoke like a wind from the courts of heaven. The sound of tongues may be soft on your lips, but it carries force in the Spirit. It breaks through spiritual fog, lifts the weight of oppression, and reclaims places that have been occupied by lies and torment.
There are moments when praying in your own understanding feels like throwing stones into the ocean—small, ineffective, swallowed up. But when you pray in tongues, it’s as though you strike a match that ignites an explosion. You might not always feel it, but the shift is happening. You are not asking for power; you are releasing it. You’re not begging for change; you are becoming the change, because the Spirit is flowing through you.
There is an authority released when tongues are spoken with faith—not loudness, not volume, but authority. That kind of authority doesn’t come from effort; it comes from presence. It comes from being aligned with the mind of God. And when the Spirit prays through you, He prays from the fullness of that authority. He is not hoping; He is declaring. He is not trying; He is commanding. Your tongue becomes the bridge between heaven’s decree and earth’s obedience.
Sometimes the atmosphere doesn’t change immediately. Sometimes it resists. But consistency in tongues is like a battering ram—it keeps striking, striking, striking until the walls give way. The enemy cannot stand unchallenged in the presence of sustained spiritual fire, and praying in tongues faithfully, intentionally, persistently, fans that fire. Soon, what once was heavy becomes light; what once was chaotic becomes still; what once was dead begins to live again.
This is not confined to a church building. This is not limited to a worship service. It can happen in your kitchen, in your car, at your desk. You can shift the atmosphere of your home by praying in tongues. You can shift your workplace, your neighborhood, your very own mind and heart. Wherever the Spirit is given voice, the atmosphere will respond, because the atmosphere knows the voice of its Creator. When Jesus spoke, winds ceased. When Jesus called, demons fled. That same Spirit now dwells in you, and when He speaks for you in tongues, He’s not simply comforting your soul—He’s commanding realms.
The Spirit in you does not negotiate with darkness; He expels it. He does not wrestle with heaviness; He replaces it with the weight of glory. This is why praying in tongues is often met with resistance—not just from the flesh but from the spiritual environment. The enemy knows that if you ever understand what’s happening when you pray in the Spirit, you’ll do it more. You’ll press in, you’ll persist, you’ll breakthrough.
And so distractions come. Doubts arise. Fatigue sets in. But the moment you push past that veil, peace comes, clarity returns, strength rises, and the cloud lifts. Atmospheres do not change by accident; they respond to dominion. They submit to authority. When you yield your tongue to the Spirit, you are giving voice to the One who holds all dominion. You are releasing not just words, but a presence that alters the very air around you. You are opening doors in the Spirit, silencing voices of confusion, and making room for the King to walk.
When you pray in tongues, you are not praying alone. This is not merely your spirit crying out into the darkness, hoping to be heard. This is a divine partnership, a sacred collaboration between you and the Holy Spirit—One who searches all things, who knows the deep things of God. He steps in to take hold with you. He doesn’t just observe your prayer; He intercedes. He becomes your voice, your wisdom, your strength. He prays through you and for you with groanings too deep for words, with the precision and passion that go far beyond human effort.
The Holy Spirit does not guess. He does not fumble through your requests, trying to piece together what is truly needed. He knows. He knows what is hidden. He knows what lies beneath the surface. He knows your fears before you name them. He knows the entanglements of your heart even when your mind has yet to understand them. And when you yield your tongue to Him in prayer, He begins to align you with the perfect will of the Father—not just in word, but in thought, desire, and action.
There are so many things we pray for from a limited perspective. We see only part of the picture. We ask for things that seem urgent but may not be eternal. We seek relief when God desires transformation. We ask for escape when God intends endurance. Yet the Holy Spirit sees the full path. He knows not just the destination but every curve in the road, every storm that will rise. When He intercedes through you in tongues, He is not asking according to your temporary desires. He is praying according to your eternal design.
This is why tongues are so powerful. They bypass the limitations of the soul. Your soul can be weary. Your emotions can mislead you. Your understanding can be wrong. But your spirit—oh, your spirit, quickened by the Holy Spirit—sees beyond the limits of the natural world.