Prayer is the soul's sincere desire
Uttered or unexpressed;
The motion of a hidden fire,
That trembles in the breast.
If you can't pray a real prayer, pray
hypocritically, full of doubt
and dry-mouthed.
God accepts counterfeit money
as though it were real.
The elder warned us not to pray while our hearts were steeped in unprayerful feelings, without thoughts wandering as they chose. Prayer is not a mechanical activity, but a confrontation, a conversation with the Holy Presence. Pray humbly, then, in awe of God.
There was simply silence. And in that silence, as I gazed up at the sunlight sparkling through those high upper windows, or followed a secret tug drawing me down into my own heart, I began to know a prayer much deeper than "talking to God."
"Somewhere in those depths of silence I came upon my first experiences of God as a loving presence that was always near, and prayer as a simple trust in that presence.
We pray least when we say most.
Dear Pray-er,
A soul not nourished by prayer is like
a barren desert:
Pray when you work.
Pray over every problem.
Pray when you are at home,
Pray with your family.
Pray when you watch the news,
Pray over the nations, the planet.
Pray in the Silence,
Become the Prayer.
Prayer is not so much conversation with God as my silence communing with the silence of God.
The Saguaro (barrel-chested cactus), arms uplifted as though in prayer, might remind us that for countless ages its desert home has been viewed by spiritual seekers as a special prayer space. In the long history of prayer, the desert has often been seen as a holy locale where seekers can travel light and encounter spiritual realities. The desert, whether of sand or of our inner souls, challenges us to see more clearly and to travel with prayer as our best companion.
The death of anyone close to us is always a form of salutation, a simultaneous good-bye to their physical presence and a deep hello to a more intimate imaginal relationship now beginning to form in their absence.
On this rainy and interior day, as I write letters about Mummy, I feel her presence so strongly. Just now, I can feel her sending her love to me. Suddenly, I see and feel her standing there, just a couple yards in front of me by the window, looking younger, and yet every age and no age. She's all in white, radiating light, smiling her smile, and love is pouring out of her eyes onto me, covering me. Ifeel my heart pounding, a ringing in my ears. I find it hard to breathe. It is overwhelming ... I know now she'll always be with me and, though it makes me sad to think I can't be with her in person anymore, I know I'll never not be with her again.