We pray that God may accept our call for help. And we also pray that God, who knows that which is hidden, may hear the silent cries of our soul.
The seed of prayer is sown in heaven.
It pushes its stems toward the earth
and comes to grow there.
It produces an abundance of fruit.
Then, as it becomes seed once more,
it thrusts its way back to heaven.
The root of all prayer is interior silence.
Many people ask me, "How does one pray?" For me, alone in my room in a prayerful attitude, I just see myself as incapable of doing anything without God, since indeed, God is the Provider, the Guide ... and so I turn to God. When there is no within or without, then our prayers are answered, for surely it is union with the One Source of all Life, the Divine, whatever words you want, that is the yearning of the soul.
And yes, my friends, it is for you to find out what prayer is. It is the humility of a child. It is the beauty of being. And it is the love of being alive. So ask God how to pray with all the sincerity, honesty, humility, and passion you have within you. And I'm sure that one day your prayer, which will be God's prayer, will be answered.
Nothing is more difficult than prayer. In all other tasks of spiritual life, however exacting, one can sometimes rest, but there is no rest in prayer, up to the end of one's life.
Praying brings Therese into communion with her mother, her father and her sisters. For part of her experience in prayer is condltíoned by the presence of beloved persons: the presence of human love is a sort of token for the hidden presence of God. How otherwise can a child be trained in prayer, in realizing the hidden presence, except by the sacrament of visible, tangible love? Therese is taken into their prayer and nestles there.
Source of All, act within my being that I may act in accordance with Thine. Amen
PRAYER releases energy as certainly as the closing of an electric circuit does. It heightens all human capacities. It refreshes and quickens life. It unlocks reservoirs of power. It opens invisible doors into new storehouses of spiritual force for the Person to live by, and, as I believe, for others to live by as well. It is effective and operative as surely as are the forces of steam or gravitation.
In downtown Little Rock late one day, a monk saw a bag lady with her full cart staring at the sky.
She ignored his questions, continuing to study the sunset. He looked and saw the bright reds and oranges set against the deep blue sky and white clouds. It was a stunning display of color and contrast.
After a time, she patted his arm and he looked into her sparkling eyes, seeing the fresh tears on her dirty cheeks and the toothless smile.
"God," she whispered, "is just TOO good to me!"
If thou shouldn'st never see my face again, pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of.