I don’t believe in manifesting – but I do believe in prayer

A fellow school mum was telling me yesterday about her housing frustrations. Her landlord is gifting their rental home to his daughter and, as a result, she needs to move out with her young family of five. The youngest child is just a baby, she works as a cleaner and her husband is a nurse, so life is busy.

“I’m manifesting for a good solution,” she said to me, laughing it off. I replied that I would pray for a good solution because I don’t believe in manifesting, but I do believe in prayer. Our tone was playful, but the subject, from where I am standing, is no laughing matter.

Apparently, approximately one in four adults in the UK practise some form of manifesting. The practice of manifesting is speaking goals into existence. To me, it sounds – quite literally – like wishful thinking.

I can’t help but wish (excuse the pun) that these millions of people would rely on prayer instead of manifesting. If only they knew the power of prayer. I grew up in a Christian home and asked Jesus into my life at the age of nine. I prayed for faith as I didn’t have much, and God showed up and honoured that prayer.

READ MORE: From manifestation to Jesus: Why influencer Madison Rose walked away from New Age spirituality

When I was 13, I changed boarding schools. It was quite a culture shock as lots of the girls – it was an all-girls’ school – went to London on their exeat weekends and smoked cannabis. I was a recent arrival from a fairly sheltered convent school, wearing my twinset and pearls, and the shock on my face was plain to see! I reported one girl to my housemistress for having a hash pipe, so you can imagine how popular I was.

I really struggled socially in the beginning, so I took refuge in the Christian Union, which, as I soon learnt, was frequented by the grand sum of three devout Christians.

I really struggled socially in the beginning, so I took refuge in the Christian Union, which, as I soon learnt, was frequented by the grand sum of three devout Christians. The girls who ran the CU were bookish and seriously intelligent, but I soon realised that the meetings weren’t accessible to most of the school. Like me, the people who ran the Christian Union weren’t cool.

After a few months of plodding away at the Christian Union, we made some headway. Thanks to my parents’ Christian network, I secured ‘cool’ speakers such as artist, Charlie Mackesy. I think some of his coolness must have rubbed off on me, as eventually I was accepted at my school and, to my delight, so was the Christian Union.

It soon became the place to be on a Friday night, but it wasn’t all serious. I remember now vicar, Richard Pennystan, who was a student worker and a few years older than me, calling me to ask me what he was going to speak about the following week. I was shopping on the King’s Road in London and suggested none other than the topic of… materialism!

Lots of people gave their lives to God, and the Holy Spirit moved in our school, classes and boarding rooms. 

Lots of people gave their lives to God, and the Holy Spirit moved in our school, classes and boarding rooms. It was fantastic. But nothing in life is perfect, and we soon hit stumbling blocks along the bumpy teenage road ahead. There were a lot of girls with eating disorders and, hand in hand with this, came tarot cards and then the ouija board. I remember being called into one of their séances as one girl was scared out of her wits.

READ MORE: Should Christians ‘manifest’ things? Or is it a dangerous new age practice?

“Please just come into the room and pray,” she begged me.

Soon I found myself doing this a lot. When I could, I would go in and pray with another Christian friend. Sadly, the occult hasn’t gone away. Research shows that communicating with spirits is experiencing a surge in popularity among young adults aged 35. ‘Ministers’ at London’s spiritualist churches report a post-pandemic revival driven by young people seeking comfort, with YouGov data confirming that one in five Britons now believe it is possible to communicate with the deceased. But there is hope in Jesus.

I used to be quite scared of the occult, but it took a trip to France for God to reveal something important spiritually to me. We were staying in an old French château in the attic rooms with our three small children when I became fearful of a dark presence. Later that holiday, I felt He showed me a picture of a crumpled black mask, a bit like the one in The Phantom of the Opera, falling to the floor. It showed me that there was nothing to fear.

READ MORE: I experienced ‘post-book grief’ after reading books on the occult but it led me back to the Bible

Recently, I was watching a Catholic priest being interviewed by Cameron Rieker, talking about exorcisms. He said that if you ever so much as utter Christ’s name, it is enough to silence a demon. ‘The devil fears God and respects God highly,’ he said. He also said that no demon has ever blasphemed God. The point is that when we have the living Christ living in us, we need fear no evil.

“Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.” Psalm 23. It is good to be reminded that though the opposition may occasionally taunt us, it holds no power – it is only Christ who holds the key. 

And perhaps that brings me back to the school mum I spoke to at the beginning. When life feels uncertain, it is tempting to try to speak to the ‘universe’ to manifest the outcome we desperately want. But my experiences have taught me that I don’t need to speak my desired future into existence or attempt to harness some spiritual power for myself. I can bring my hopes, fears and needs to the living God in prayer and trust him with the outcome. Manifesting asks me to put my faith in the power of my own thoughts and words; prayer asks me to put my faith in Jesus. I know which one I choose.