“What Happens When You Pray in Tongues for 20 Minutes a Day.”
By Kathryn Kuhlman.
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 of
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 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 in.
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.
You may feel absolutely nothing while praying in tongues-no shiver, no emotional
stirring, no dramatic awareness of heaven touching earth. And yet, in those quiet
moments, things are being healed, ideas are being planted, chains are being broken,
and paths are being prepared. You are being molded in the secret place, in a process
so gentle and holy that it often escapes your conscious notice.
It is much like the way seeds grow underground. You water them, you wait, and nothing
seems to happen for days or weeks. The soil looks the same, and the surface remains
unchanged. But beneath, the seed is splitting, roots are forming, and life is being
shaped in hidden darkness. So it is with the work of the Spirit.
When you pray in tongues with no sign, no spark, no sensation, trust that something is
growing beneath the surface. Trust that your spirit is being built up quietly and faithfully,
with divine intention. Sometimes, the absence of feeling is not a sign of spiritual illness
but of spiritual maturity. It means you are no longer depending on external signs to
confirm God’s presence. You are praying because you believe, not because you feel.
You are yielding because you trust, not because you are moved emotionally.
That kind of prayer is the kind of prayer that continues when the music fades, when the
room is empty, and when the soul is tired. There’s a stillness in the spirit that can be
deeper than all emotion-a knowing that surpasses any feeling, a peace that needs no
confirmation from the senses. It is in this space that the Spirit often does His most
intimate work. You are touching very heart of God-not through emotion, but through
surrender.
The danger of expecting a certain feeling is that, when it doesn’t come, we begin to
doubt. We start to think we must be doing it wrong, or worse, that God is not
responding. But the truth is, He is always listening, always present, and He honors
every moment you yield your tongue to Him regardless of how it feels.
The Kingdom of God is not built on feelings. When you engage in praying in tongues,
something begins to happen that goes far beyond your natural senses. It may seem
simple, even repetitive, but there is a building taking place deep within your inner man.
Tongues are not just a spiritual language; they are a divine exercise. Every syllable
spoken is like lifting weights in the spirit. There is a divine edification that takes place
slowly and steadily every time you pray in the Spirit.
The Word of God declares that when a person speaks in an unknown tongue, they edify
themselves. The word “edify” means to build up, to construct, to fortify. The Spirit is
laying brick upon brick in the unseen places of your being. He is fortifying your resolve,
deepening your discernment, and expanding your spiritual capacity. You’ll recognize it
when temptation comes, and it no longer appeals to you the way it once did.
This kind of strength is not loud. It is not flashy. It doesn’t draw attention to itself, but it
holds, it endures when others quit. It speaks peace into chaos and carries authority
even in silence. That strength comes from time spent in the Spirit-from moments when
you chose to pray in tongues when it would have been easier to remain silent or
distracted.
Every time you yield to the Spirit in prayer, you are saying no to the flesh. You are
training your spirit to lead, to rise, to rule. But the edification goes beyond your strength.
Tongues are also a weapon. They break things you didn’t even know were holding you.
There are spiritual chains that don’t rattle like metal, but they bind the soul just as
tightly-chains of fear, insecurity, doubt, and shame. Chains formed through trauma,
disappointment, or repeated failure. And when you pray in tongues, those chains begin
to snap-not always in a dramatic instant, but through sustained spiritual force.
You may begin to notice that your thought patterns change, that the anxiety which used
to flood your mind now loses its grip, or that the shame you carried like a shadow
begins to lift. These are the hidden victories that come through the work of the Spirit.
They are not always visible at first, but they are deep and lasting.
You don’t need to understand every word you speak in tongues because the Holy Spirit
knows exactly what to say. He goes into the crevices of your heart and begins to uproot
what is bound. This is why people who consistently pray in tongues often carry an
atmosphere of peace. They may not even realize it, but others feel it. There’s a
stability in them-a settledness that doesn’t come from personality or temperament. It
comes from time spent in the Spirit.
It is for carrying burdens that would break others. It is for speaking words that heal. It is
for moving forward when others are paralyzed. The process of being built up is rarely
glamorous. It often looks like faithfulness in the ordinary-10 minutes here, 20 minutes
there. No spotlight, no applause, just your spirit communing with the Holy Spirit in a
language not taught by man. And yet, each time something changes-a wall comes
down, a light comes on, a scar begins to heal.
A divine exchange takes place-your weakness for His strength, your questions for His
wisdom, your pain for His presence. What once overwhelmed you begins to lose its
power. What once confused you begins to make sense. You walk into situations with a
boldness that you didn’t earn, and a calm that you didn’t produce, because your spirit
has been fed, trained, and armed. And that training didn’t come from striving, but from
surrender. It came from letting the Holy Spirit do in you what you could never do for
yourself.
It came from trusting the process of tongues, believing that every moment spent in His
language is a moment of divine construction.
There is a realm of spiritual sensitivity that begins to open when you spend time praying
in tongues. It’s not something you manufacture or strive for-it is something the Holy
Spirit awakens within you. Praying in tongues tunes your inner ear to the frequency of
heaven. You begin to hear more clearly-not always with audible words, but with an
inner knowing, a divine awareness. A gentle nudge that is unmistakably from the Spirit
of God.
What once seemed blurry becomes sharp. What once was hidden begins to surface.
You find yourself discerning not just situations, but the spirits behind them. The
sensitivity is not the product of emotional intuition, but of spiritual perception. It is the
result of spending time in the Spirit, allowing Him to shape your senses to respond to
His leading.
The more you pray in tongues, the more you begin to notice when something is off-not
because someone told you, but because your spirit is alert. You begin to walk into
environments and feel what others don’t feel. You sense burdens, you recognize
deception, and you perceive divine timing. These are not skills you learn. The Holy
Spirit is always speaking, always leading, always revealing. But many live their lives
deaf to His voice-not because He is silent, but because they are not tuned in.
Praying in tongues is like adjusting the dial on your spiritual radio. It clears the static,
fine-tunes your receiver, and sharpens your attention to the voice that matters most.
You begin to distinguish between your own thoughts and His promptings. You begin to
recognize when the enemy is speaking and you shut it down before it takes root.
This sensitivity also brings clarity. You begin to see people not according to their
actions, but according to their needs. You discern what lies beneath the surface. You
don’t just hear what someone says; you hear what they’re not saying. You feel the tug
of their pain, the cry of their soul, even when their face shows a smile. And instead of
reacting in the flesh, you respond in the Spirit.
This is what it means to minister from overflow. You’re not drawing from your own
understanding or emotion. You’re drawing from a well that the Spirit has been digging
deep inside of you.
The more time you spend praying in tongues, the more you become aware of God’s
movement in your day-to-day life. What once seemed random begins to feel
orchestrated. You sense divine appointments, you pause when prompted, and you
speak when stirred. You learn to move with God rather than just asking Him to bless
your plans. There is a rhythm to His will, and as you pray in tongues, you begin to
move in sync with that rhythm.
You are no longer driven by urgency or pressure, but by peace and precision.
Sensitivity also produces humility because as you become more aware of what the
Spirit is doing, you also become more aware of how much you don’t know. You realize
how limited your understanding is without Him. You see how often He has protected
you, led you, and redirected you without you even realizing it. And this makes you more
dependent, more yielded, and more grateful.
You begin to walk with a quiet confidence-not in yourself, but in the One who lives in you
and leads you. Discernment becomes sharper, not so you can judge others, but so you
can love them more wisely. You begin to see where healing is needed, where truth
must be spoken, where prayer must be lifted, and you respond-not because you’re
trying to be spiritual, but because your spirit is now alive and attentive.