We all know we are supposed to pray, right?
- Jesus set the example - often stepping away from the crowds and their demands and from those closest to him, his disciples and family - to hang out with his Father.
- In the New Testament, "pray," "prayer," and "praying" are mentioned over 250 times.
- In Luke, we are told not to give up when we pray. In 1 Thessalonians, we are told to pray "continually" and "without ceasing." In the book of Philippians, we are told to pray "in every situation."
I'm already tired just thinking about how much I'm supposed to pray, and I haven't even started praying. To pray like this feels unrealistic or you have to be some type of superhuman spiritual hero.
And I'm not.
And you probably aren't either.
So before I even send a word up to the heavens, I'm feeling pretty exhausted and unqualified.
That's not exactly a recipe for success and doesn't really make me want to pray, even though I do want to pray.
I want to talk to God.
I want to know Him as a friend.
And I know I need Him, especially if I am going to join God in what He is already doing in the world and wants to do in my life.
So what can I do when I am stuck before I've even started?
What I have to offer you is neither rocket science nor a fast fix. What I am going to suggest is often awkward and doesn't even feel all that spiritual. It’s just what I’ve learned along the way (and am still learning).
Posture
What is my posture when I try to pray?
By posture I don’t mean how straight my back is when I sit or stand. I am not referring to any specific arrangement of my body at all, but rather my “conscious mental or outward behavioral attitude.”
One definition for attitude is “a bodily state of readiness to respond in a characteristic way to a stimulus (such as an object, concept, or situation).”
The truth is that I am not always ready to respond and not because “I have an attitude” and I don’t want to respond but because I don’t know how to “get ready.”
Being ready to respond often means turning down the noise, being quiet. It often means slowing down if not stopping all together. And our culture primes us to keep moving and turn up the volume as you go.
So praying often feels as if we are swimming against the tide. Slowing down, lessening the noise, and being still, even if for just a few seconds, is just not how most of us have set up our lives or been trained to exist in the world. Rather than having multiple speeds for various places, people and seasons we have one speed for all spaces.
Praying forces us to change our speed. To shift our posture.
Adding to the issue of pace, is the tendency for humans to avoid that which makes us uncomfortable, is difficult, or makes us feel inept.
And praying can cause us to feel all three of these feelings.
Praying can be hard. We don’t always know what or how to pray. Words often fail us. Add in all the theological questions about why some prayers get answered while some don’t, why bad things happen to begin with and how to even know if you heard from God or if it was just heartburn from the pizza you ate the night before, and well .. praying can be difficult.
And awkward and uncomfortable.
It often reveals what we lack.
We don’t have all the answers. We need something or someone outside ourselves. We aren’t all self-sufficient. We aren’t God. We aren’t the masters of our fate.
This isn’t a pleasant or easy feeling so often we avoid praying because we find our own humanity overwhelming.
Then there is, of course, the uncomfortable stuff that often comes out when we pray. Our sins. Our flaws. Our weaknesses. And there’s the good stuff too. Prayer reveals our secret dreams and desires that we are too scared to fully admit let alone maybe hope for and invite God to be a part of.
So what I’ve found (and am finding) is that to pray often means I have to change my posture and my attitude. I have to be willing to slow down, turn the TV/radio/phone off, and even say no to some things. I have to be willing to feel inept, be awkward, and uncomfortable.
What I’ve discovered is that praying is an intentional decision to be vulnerable.
Practice
But being vulnerable doesn’t mean I am without power, without the ability to learn how to pray, and over time, find it less difficult, less uncomfortable and even find it to be a source of power and strength (because of who we are talking to).
By practice, I mean two specific things. The first has to do with how we pray.
We sometimes think there is one way to pray, one way to physically engage in a conversation with the Creator of the universe. Or at the very least, a more preferred and better way.
But I feel pretty confident that the God who created the platypus and the red velvet wasp (which, if you don't like spiders, ants, or wasps, DO NOT go check out God's handiwork and take my word for it) is more than open to you praying while exercising, dancing, walking, chopping firewood, grocery shopping, or standing on your head if it helped.
There are many ways to pray. Here are just a few: list making, journaling, Lectio Divina, the Examen, pray the prayers of the Bible, pray the Psalms, the Lord’s Prayer, drawing/coloring, breathing prayer, centering prayer, the five-finger prayer, liturgical prayers, praying in nature, praying at specific times of the day, and my personal favorite prayer, “Lord, have mercy.”
What is needed is not some specific way to pray but a willingness to practice different ways to pray so you can connect with God.
Secondly, what I mean is to show up and keep praying.
Keep practicing.
Prayer is a lot like art, which is mostly science (color theory, how light works, chemistry) mixed with the wonder of a toddler. And you get better at art by showing up and practicing the craft.
Like a baby learning to talk by making gibberish and a toddler by creating their own words, we learn to pray through repetition.
So, my unsolicited advice, keep trying.
Did you fall asleep while praying before bed? Stop thinking you failed and remember that children are supposed to be soothed to sleep by the presence of their parents. And try again tomorrow to have another nighttime conversation with God. He won't have forgotten where you left off the night before.
Did you start praying and remember the laundry you left in the washer for the fourth time and now have half your grocery list made out? Okay. So maybe tomorrow, instead of trying to sit still and pray, get up and pray while you move the laundry. Maybe your body wants to join you in prayer.
Did you start praying before your work meeting for wisdom, clarity and patience only to find yourself now more agitated than at peace? It’s okay. Remember that Jesus knows what it is to be human and stressed by people and obligations. He does not shame you for being agitated in his presence. Try again tomorrow and maybe try simply deep breaths and “Lord, have mercy.”
Keep showing up.
And I promise, God takes your attempts to talk with Him - no matter how flawed and scattered and no matter how exposed and vulnerable you may feel - and displays your prayers proudly on his refrigerator just like any loving parent does with their preschooler's artwork.
God stands beaming at His kitchen countertops because His child showed up to tell Him about their day, to ask for help, and to advocate for someone else in need.
