A pray in the life of...

It's been a long time since I've felt like praying. I used to be really good at sliding into God's presence and chatting together all day, but... it's been a while. 

I'm grateful for liturgy, and words others have written that articulate what I feel but can't express, and also for a form to help me keep going through the motions when I've got nothing else. It's better than nothing. 
But recently I felt like praying, so I grabbed that urge and... I'd forgotten how to do it. I sat down and then decided that was too risky, wasn't going to hold my attention, so I got up and went to kneel. I used the old ACTS acronym as a guide:
Adoration
Confession
Thanking
Supplication

So, adoration, the worship part. To be honest, I didn't feel like I had it in me. So I decided to just say things I know God is like. Mainly the characteristic I've been aware of for a long time is that God is really BIG. Bigger than we understand or imagine or act like. Bigger than our boxes and rules and expectations. And I'm glad that God's holding it all, and not me. All the pain and the confusion and the injustice and discord. Someone else has got this.

I moved onto confession, and here's my confession to you. A lot of the things that came to mind initially, I don’t think they’re sin. I think a lot about what is right and wrong and what is sin, and what actually is just broken people trying their best. Is it sin or is it me trying to hold too many things together on not enough sleep in too little time? Is it a coping mechanism or a pain response, rather than sin? I'm not sure I'm going to confess the times I lose it with my kids or with Xander, the times I mess up because it all just gets too much. The things I feel guilty about. I think God sees those, and holds them, and has grace for them, and gently teaches me when to slow down and take space, when to breathe, how to develop better boundaries, where I need to grow in empathy and patience. God embodies to me what good parenting and healthy relationships look like, and gradually I grow into those, with trial and error and grace. But there other things in me, things I hide away just off the edge of my peripheral vision so I don’t feel much guilt about them, things that, when I stop to listen, God is ready to convict me of, and lead me into better.  Like how my heart is hard. Like how I’m more committed to my own comfort and enjoyment than alleviating the need and suffering of my brothers and sisters. Like how I grasp to hold onto what was never really mine to begin with. Like how slow I am to be challenged on my privilege, and to move from thought and knowing into action. Lots more things like that.

Thanksgiving though, that’s a more comfortable place to land, those tracks are well worn. It’s an easy place to connect for me, when I have nothing else to pray. Thank you for my strong, healthy body. Thank you for enough. Thank you for people I love who love me. Thank you for autumn leaves and sunshine and for rooibos tea and snuggly cardigans and a good night’s sleep for once.

By supplication, I’d nearly run out of steam. Asking for things, seeking help for my needs, for other people, for the world. It’s a reminder I can’t fix everything. There are things, problems, situations that are big and broken, and I’ll put my shoulder to seeing them resolved. But we need help. We can’t do it on our own. Again, God’s really big. And God’s holding all of those things. The weight falls off my shoulders.

And when I stand up from kneeling, the weight stays off, and I walk lighter and freer.

I tried it again today while I was running. I got stuck at A. I didn’t know what to say. What is God even like? Who is God? Then these old familiar words I hadn’t thought of for years fell into my lap:

 This THIS is the God we adore,

Our faithful, unchangeable friend,

Whose love is as great as His power,

And knows neither measure nor end.

Tis Jesus, the first and the last,

Whose Spirit shall guide us straight home.

We’ll praise Him for all that is past,

And trust Him for all that’s to come.

 

I didn’t get any further.

And it was enough.