Thanks again for a great essay. These past few weeks I've been thinking about the function of prayer. Was it C S Lewis who concluded, "Prayer changes me" when asked about its effectiveness? For whatever reason, those three little words have stuck in my head (in a good way) as a reminded that prayer is not going to manipulate God into giving me what I want. I also used to think that prayer was effective only when I prayed fervently (and probably with an upper-crust English accent while using the King James version of verbs and pronouns).
My prayers today are simpler: Oh, God, I need a shower. God, these guys I work with are driving me nuts; WTF were they thinking??!! God, I love that blue sky.
You get the idea, right? It's like every time I'm commenting on the state of things, it's a prayer.
Those times when I'm really tied up in knots (like this past Wednesday when I couldn't sleep because of a cruddy day at work), I believe prayer is like a meditation that keeps me in the present moment rather than allowing my worst thoughts / worries to take hold in my head. I'm not praying for anything other than my own peace of mind.
One thing, BTW, that helps when I'm PO'd with someone is a thing I learned from my 12-Step work that helps to keep resentment from taking root. It's a kind of formula that goes like this: Just like me, [asshole's name] wants [X, Y, Z]; please give us [A, B, C].
Recent examples from my prayer life are:
Just like me, B. wants this project to be successful; please inspire us with good ideas. Just like me, D. wants to be recognized for their efforts; please give us confidence to trust we have value whether or not it's said out loud. Just like me, M. wants to be heard; please give us insight on how to communicate effectively.
Anyway, I like your version of prayer being all around us. It reminds me that I'm not alone.
"every time I'm commenting on the state of things, it's a prayer." yes! same here :) And I really love your formula: Just like me, [asshole's name] wants [X, Y, Z]; please give us [A, B, C]. Genius.
Thanks, but I can't take credit for that formula. I found it when I was looking up stuff on Step 10 (I think). Although, I admit that I added in the [asshole's name] part!
When my mom died, in my grief I asked "Why?"-to God, to the universe, whoever was out there with me. The answer I received, clear as day and in a voice I hadn't heard before (and haven't heard since), was "Maybe you're not supposed to know right now." That's the answer that sustained me at the moment, that I *was* heard, and that the answer would come to me when I has the time and space to understand.
I am reminded of an interview with St. Teresa of Kolkata (which I'm paraphrasing) who, when asked about prayer, characterized it as a "conversation" with God. When she was asked "What happens when you pray?" She responded, I listen. And when asked, "What happens when you ask of God?" She said, "They listen." (I have, of course, changed the pronoun.) I have come to believe that prayer is not so much "asking" as being in the presence of the unutterable, divine "other".
I like the idea of prayer being our way to converse with God. Our purpose is to love God and neighbor as we love ourselves. As I pray, it helps me focus on relationships that are important to me and to listen for how to strengthen these relationships and how I can be Gods hands and feet in my world. I don’t believe is a a Genie or magician. I believe that the parables and healings strengthen our faith that God cares about us and empowers us to care about others.
In the aftermath of Hurricane Helene, as I read accounts and saw photos of the devastation from wind and flooding spanning 5 states (including TN, without any shoreline), I was often moved to tears by the seeming hopelessness of the situation: no power, no internet, no water, no roads, no access. There were no words of encouragement I could offer the victims of this storm, even if they had been able to receive them. I donated to relief organizationsand once roads were cleared and repaired, I volunteered clearing debris and delivered cleaning supplies to areas near me in East TN. All of that is prayer, to me, but I think my very first prayer received by God consisted of my tears and my pangs of compassion, even before I could express them with words.
Dear Nadia, I met you in the Indianapolis airport Sunday and disturbed your otherwise peaceful flight back to Denver because I am such a fan girl 🤣 I got home and immediately had to spend hours looking for my daughter's keys and phone - she left them on the back of her dad's car and he drove off with them. Then I got back home and Roomba had found dog poop and spread it quite a bit. Every time I was tempted to panic or get angry, a little voice kept saying "But I met Nadia!" So once again you probably saved my daughter's life! Thank you again, from the bottom of my heart, for everything you have taught and are still teaching me.
Thank you for this metaphor. Equally relatable to Diana Butler Bass’ metaphor of prayer like an elevator to God. But, the Gumball Machine really resonates. Since moving away from the 20-year home I built with my husband and my kids when he left and abandoned us, I haven’t found a welcoming church and, honestly, blamed God (a little bit) with each rejection that drove me a little further away from God and prayer - until recently. I think I found a church and a ministry thru the ELCA that welcomes me and my daughter. I’m giving prayer, and God, a chance again! I realized how much I’ve missed this relationship! I’ve stayed engaged and “restructured” this relationship. I let go of my Gumball hopes and find God’s grace everywhere I turn when I remember S/he is always with me and my daughter, journeying WITH us, even when we are silent.
I don't know if C.S. Lewis actually said something like this or not, but I've always remembered Anthony Hopkins who played Lewis in the movie "Shadowlands" telling his colleague who had just congratulated him on God answering his prayers for his sick wife, "That's NOT why I pray . . . I pray because I can't help myself. I pray because I'm helpless. I pray because the need flows out of me, all the time, waking and sleeping. It doesn't change God. It changes me."
I try to pray for others more that I pray for myself. I'll have to ask God one Day if I succeeded with that or not. I pray most all the time. I even pray when I know that I'm sinning, "Don't look now, God." It's not my best prayer. It's not even effective for changing me, but I think it leads to my ultimate prayer, "Lord, remember me when You come in Your Kingdom." I hope that I remember to change the word "me" to "us" with my final breath.
Thank you for your thoughts on this October morning. I am especially moved by your description of choppy syllables managed between sobs. Thinking about prayer this morning (am I doing it right?!) I wrote this in my journal after a “busy” silence:
If I knew where I was going would I have come?
Did I have a choice? Did I choose now?
I stand among walls of mirrors
fashioned by my hands-
I am blinded by so many images of judgment.
But in the space of dreams, the space of the Dreamer,
Prayer has become a different concept for me as I have matured and healed. I use to pray to God and when the answer was no, I felt it was because I was unworthy and would join another committee at church to prove my worthiness.
I now know God loves me as I am, I need to prove nothing, God is with me in all of life, past, present and future.But I also know people have free will, sometimes shit just happens, and sometimes the answer to prayer is not my expectation.
When I was a toddler I was abused by family by being locked in closet for several years. One might say where was God then. I believe he was in the closet with me as the closet was protection because on the other side of the door were angry alcoholics that would hurt me every chance they had. God could not stop their free will but he could provide protection for me
Having just made it through a year with my 2nd aggressive cancer, there’s been a lot of praying. Not gumball machine prayers, about not “why me” (God ever answers that) but prayers if conversation like you said-offerings of tears and fears, prayers of gratitude for breath, the ability to talk, walk my dog, love my patient husband who cared for me so well…my prayers seem to have landed on God being with me even in the dark. Like He told Job, basically, we don’t always get the answers we want but we do get his present ce. Grateful…
I consider, too, that prayer does not change the Divine - it changes me. It helps me to remember my very human lack of control in the face of difficult situations- no matter how badly I want to be in control of how things turn out. And it reminds me that the Divine’s ways are not my ways…thankfully. Prayer changes me in terms of generosity, compassion, and empathy. It reminds me we’re all in this together, and tomorrow it could be me on the receiving end, rather than the giving end, of those offerings. Prayer is my conversation with the Divine, and once offered, I get to practice Trust in our loving Creator.
I always try to remember that my unanswered prayer is someone's prayer being answered - like, if I pray for the traffic to move so I can be on time and it doesn't, well that is someone else's prayer being answered that the bus is late so they don't miss it - but obviously on a larger scale - God has his plan for us, I've long learnt to surrender to that 😉
This subject has been recurring in my mind in light of the two hurricanes we recently witnessed, and the wisdom of those who were there. They brought out the question of God's blessing. If God is a "sugar daddy" (my words), then why are some blessed and some not. Why is one house spared when the house next door is demolished by a falling tree or tornado? Did God bless those in the spared house but not bless those in the demolished house? Dare we call ourselves blessed when we receive good when someone else does not? Two people in a car accident. One dies, one survived. Is the survivor blessed and the deceased person not blessed? What are we believing or saying about God?
I have been wrestling with the fact that God did not rescue Jesus, God's son, from the cross. The question, then is, why do we think God will rescue us from the pain in this world?
Thank you, Nadia, for addressing one of the things I have been pondering for some time.
Decades ago - in my pious/anxious/addicted teens - I did a crude drawing of a machine I called "Vend-A-Blessing." I still have that drawing. It's a sort of combination slot machine (handle on the side) and vending machine (coin slots - there were no credit cards back then). It reflected my experience of praying devoutly for stuff (including the cure of my addiction) and how random it all felt.
This morning - before reading Nadia's wonderful post about God's Gumball Machine, I was reflecting on the Eleventh Step: "Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood God, praying only for knowledge of God's will and the power to carry that out."
It was that word "only" that got my attention. It seems to be a limiting word: it's okay to pray for THIS, but not for THAT. But I don't think it's a matter of limiting the subject matter of my prayers; I'm invited to pray about anything that is on my mind. It's not a limit, but a focus.
It reminds me of Augustine's admonition, "Love God, and do as you please." That's not a license to do whatever I want (!) but a recognition that the more I love God, the more what "pleases me" will align with God's will. But of course I don't love God all that much. I like to think I do - love God and my neighbor, all that. But I am so prone to screwing that up - and I have a very long history of doing massive damage to others and myself - that I really don't trust myself to "do as I please."
Early in Recovery my sponsor said to me that when he was deep in his addiction, he would often pray, "Grant my wishes." But he never prayed, "Thy will be done."
There's an old song that invites me "to carry everything to the Lord in prayer." So I do. Sometimes. When I think about praying, which isn't all that often. Even though you might think that after well over 70 years of praying I'd be good at it by now. But when I pray, I try not to put limits on the subject matter. I can and do pray for kids in Gaza and hurricane victims and abused children and friends struggling with addiction. I can pray for an unemployed friend or another who's desperately sick. I can pray for the strength to stay sober another day. I can pray for my grandkids. I can pray for the preservation and strengthening of democracy. I can pray for peace and for justice. All very appropriate. But I can also pray about that twinge that suggests I'll probably need hernia surgery. I can pray that my neighbors quiet down tonight so I can sleep. I can pray that my pension fund doesn't go bankrupt, or that my car doesn't break down, or that my daughter starts speaking to me again.
I'm quite good at telling God what to do. And God is quite good at being God. I'm really not sure what prayer does, if it's supposed to "do" something. But that thing about conscious contact? Being in the presence of God? It's real. That's why, when I pray, I lead with thanksgiving, with heartfelt gratitude.
When I faced the prospect of prison, I was terrified. I wanted a magic potion, or a wand I could wave and say, "Expecto Patronum" to make fear slither away. So, being a devout sort (sort of), I looked at the First letter of John: "Perfect love casts out fear." I'm not capable of perfect love. But it also says, "God is love." Also, "we love because God first loved us."
How do I love God? By noticing blessings and giving thanks. I could look around at all the things that were going to make me miserable, and I'd spend eight years being miserable, and I'd never run out of material. Or... I could look for blessings that prompted thanksgiving. And, amazingly, I learned during those eight years that I would never run out of material.
How do I love God? Jesus said it: by loving my neighbor. I was in a scary place, full of broken, beautiful, scary people. I made the choice to look for opportunities to be kind. Kindness isn't just "being nice," it's offering an apple from my food tray; it's standing guard at the shower with my back turned so that my transgender neighbor could have some privacy. It's befriending people.
How do I love God? Gratitude and kindness. That's all there is.
I have a difficult time expressing my thoughts about prayer. It’s been a long time since I understood it as a list of requests. These days I sit in silent meditation, listen, and maybe offer the interrupting thoughts as prayers.
But there have been two occasions in my life when answered prayer was specific- for lost wedding rings. Both times they were found in an unlikely manner. Whenever I grow doubtful about prayer, I have those two experiences that challenge me. IDK.🤷♂️ I take them as a reminder of how important meaningful, intimate relationships are for us.
Thanks again for a great essay. These past few weeks I've been thinking about the function of prayer. Was it C S Lewis who concluded, "Prayer changes me" when asked about its effectiveness? For whatever reason, those three little words have stuck in my head (in a good way) as a reminded that prayer is not going to manipulate God into giving me what I want. I also used to think that prayer was effective only when I prayed fervently (and probably with an upper-crust English accent while using the King James version of verbs and pronouns).
My prayers today are simpler: Oh, God, I need a shower. God, these guys I work with are driving me nuts; WTF were they thinking??!! God, I love that blue sky.
You get the idea, right? It's like every time I'm commenting on the state of things, it's a prayer.
Those times when I'm really tied up in knots (like this past Wednesday when I couldn't sleep because of a cruddy day at work), I believe prayer is like a meditation that keeps me in the present moment rather than allowing my worst thoughts / worries to take hold in my head. I'm not praying for anything other than my own peace of mind.
One thing, BTW, that helps when I'm PO'd with someone is a thing I learned from my 12-Step work that helps to keep resentment from taking root. It's a kind of formula that goes like this: Just like me, [asshole's name] wants [X, Y, Z]; please give us [A, B, C].
Recent examples from my prayer life are:
Just like me, B. wants this project to be successful; please inspire us with good ideas. Just like me, D. wants to be recognized for their efforts; please give us confidence to trust we have value whether or not it's said out loud. Just like me, M. wants to be heard; please give us insight on how to communicate effectively.
Anyway, I like your version of prayer being all around us. It reminds me that I'm not alone.
"every time I'm commenting on the state of things, it's a prayer." yes! same here :) And I really love your formula: Just like me, [asshole's name] wants [X, Y, Z]; please give us [A, B, C]. Genius.
Thanks, but I can't take credit for that formula. I found it when I was looking up stuff on Step 10 (I think). Although, I admit that I added in the [asshole's name] part!
When my mom died, in my grief I asked "Why?"-to God, to the universe, whoever was out there with me. The answer I received, clear as day and in a voice I hadn't heard before (and haven't heard since), was "Maybe you're not supposed to know right now." That's the answer that sustained me at the moment, that I *was* heard, and that the answer would come to me when I has the time and space to understand.
The not knowing can be so hard and so wonder-full at the same time.
agree
I am reminded of an interview with St. Teresa of Kolkata (which I'm paraphrasing) who, when asked about prayer, characterized it as a "conversation" with God. When she was asked "What happens when you pray?" She responded, I listen. And when asked, "What happens when you ask of God?" She said, "They listen." (I have, of course, changed the pronoun.) I have come to believe that prayer is not so much "asking" as being in the presence of the unutterable, divine "other".
I like the idea of prayer being our way to converse with God. Our purpose is to love God and neighbor as we love ourselves. As I pray, it helps me focus on relationships that are important to me and to listen for how to strengthen these relationships and how I can be Gods hands and feet in my world. I don’t believe is a a Genie or magician. I believe that the parables and healings strengthen our faith that God cares about us and empowers us to care about others.
In the aftermath of Hurricane Helene, as I read accounts and saw photos of the devastation from wind and flooding spanning 5 states (including TN, without any shoreline), I was often moved to tears by the seeming hopelessness of the situation: no power, no internet, no water, no roads, no access. There were no words of encouragement I could offer the victims of this storm, even if they had been able to receive them. I donated to relief organizationsand once roads were cleared and repaired, I volunteered clearing debris and delivered cleaning supplies to areas near me in East TN. All of that is prayer, to me, but I think my very first prayer received by God consisted of my tears and my pangs of compassion, even before I could express them with words.
I honestly believe that service to others is a form of prayer. As are the tears of grief.
agree
Words are thin,
comparatively.
Dear Nadia, I met you in the Indianapolis airport Sunday and disturbed your otherwise peaceful flight back to Denver because I am such a fan girl 🤣 I got home and immediately had to spend hours looking for my daughter's keys and phone - she left them on the back of her dad's car and he drove off with them. Then I got back home and Roomba had found dog poop and spread it quite a bit. Every time I was tempted to panic or get angry, a little voice kept saying "But I met Nadia!" So once again you probably saved my daughter's life! Thank you again, from the bottom of my heart, for everything you have taught and are still teaching me.
So nice to meet you, Juanita! Thanks for saying hi.
Thank you for this metaphor. Equally relatable to Diana Butler Bass’ metaphor of prayer like an elevator to God. But, the Gumball Machine really resonates. Since moving away from the 20-year home I built with my husband and my kids when he left and abandoned us, I haven’t found a welcoming church and, honestly, blamed God (a little bit) with each rejection that drove me a little further away from God and prayer - until recently. I think I found a church and a ministry thru the ELCA that welcomes me and my daughter. I’m giving prayer, and God, a chance again! I realized how much I’ve missed this relationship! I’ve stayed engaged and “restructured” this relationship. I let go of my Gumball hopes and find God’s grace everywhere I turn when I remember S/he is always with me and my daughter, journeying WITH us, even when we are silent.
I don't know if C.S. Lewis actually said something like this or not, but I've always remembered Anthony Hopkins who played Lewis in the movie "Shadowlands" telling his colleague who had just congratulated him on God answering his prayers for his sick wife, "That's NOT why I pray . . . I pray because I can't help myself. I pray because I'm helpless. I pray because the need flows out of me, all the time, waking and sleeping. It doesn't change God. It changes me."
That's probably what I was thinking of. It was so long ago that i watched that film. Thanks!
I try to pray for others more that I pray for myself. I'll have to ask God one Day if I succeeded with that or not. I pray most all the time. I even pray when I know that I'm sinning, "Don't look now, God." It's not my best prayer. It's not even effective for changing me, but I think it leads to my ultimate prayer, "Lord, remember me when You come in Your Kingdom." I hope that I remember to change the word "me" to "us" with my final breath.
Thank you for your thoughts on this October morning. I am especially moved by your description of choppy syllables managed between sobs. Thinking about prayer this morning (am I doing it right?!) I wrote this in my journal after a “busy” silence:
If I knew where I was going would I have come?
Did I have a choice? Did I choose now?
I stand among walls of mirrors
fashioned by my hands-
I am blinded by so many images of judgment.
But in the space of dreams, the space of the Dreamer,
on a cold morning, watching two faint stars
above the horizon before dawn,
I offer this fully human life,
all that I hold,
all that You dream
as I whisper to the day, “Here. I am here.”
Wow, Eileen! What a gift you have! This went straight to my heart. Thank you for sharing your gift with us.
Lovely poem….
I have also been using that in prayer for awhile. The Great I AM is here, I am here, We are here.
Also remembering many songs that have “I am here” and of course “Be still and know that I am here”
Prayer has become a different concept for me as I have matured and healed. I use to pray to God and when the answer was no, I felt it was because I was unworthy and would join another committee at church to prove my worthiness.
I now know God loves me as I am, I need to prove nothing, God is with me in all of life, past, present and future.But I also know people have free will, sometimes shit just happens, and sometimes the answer to prayer is not my expectation.
When I was a toddler I was abused by family by being locked in closet for several years. One might say where was God then. I believe he was in the closet with me as the closet was protection because on the other side of the door were angry alcoholics that would hurt me every chance they had. God could not stop their free will but he could provide protection for me
Hi tammy.
And God was/still is.
My answers come when I am walking in the
opposite direction!
It's not letting go...
Yesterday, I thought wait a minute: God is Love.
OK
He never, ever runs out.
OK
He is pouring Love all over the place, including in my space.
OK
Then why can't I feel It?
Because I will not forgive myself.
I have to dump some guilt to make
room for Love.
Dumping guilt isn't easy,
but even throwing out a little
lets Good Vibes in.
My whole repair kit is right here,
inside me. But I have to open it
and use it.
Another answer!
Make room.
Yes, this.
blow the ballast and make room
That really spoke to me. Thank you.
Having just made it through a year with my 2nd aggressive cancer, there’s been a lot of praying. Not gumball machine prayers, about not “why me” (God ever answers that) but prayers if conversation like you said-offerings of tears and fears, prayers of gratitude for breath, the ability to talk, walk my dog, love my patient husband who cared for me so well…my prayers seem to have landed on God being with me even in the dark. Like He told Job, basically, we don’t always get the answers we want but we do get his present ce. Grateful…
I consider, too, that prayer does not change the Divine - it changes me. It helps me to remember my very human lack of control in the face of difficult situations- no matter how badly I want to be in control of how things turn out. And it reminds me that the Divine’s ways are not my ways…thankfully. Prayer changes me in terms of generosity, compassion, and empathy. It reminds me we’re all in this together, and tomorrow it could be me on the receiving end, rather than the giving end, of those offerings. Prayer is my conversation with the Divine, and once offered, I get to practice Trust in our loving Creator.
A good friend of mine explains how prayer works in her life this way: "When I pray, my feet move." That makes more and more sense to me each day.
I always try to remember that my unanswered prayer is someone's prayer being answered - like, if I pray for the traffic to move so I can be on time and it doesn't, well that is someone else's prayer being answered that the bus is late so they don't miss it - but obviously on a larger scale - God has his plan for us, I've long learnt to surrender to that 😉
This subject has been recurring in my mind in light of the two hurricanes we recently witnessed, and the wisdom of those who were there. They brought out the question of God's blessing. If God is a "sugar daddy" (my words), then why are some blessed and some not. Why is one house spared when the house next door is demolished by a falling tree or tornado? Did God bless those in the spared house but not bless those in the demolished house? Dare we call ourselves blessed when we receive good when someone else does not? Two people in a car accident. One dies, one survived. Is the survivor blessed and the deceased person not blessed? What are we believing or saying about God?
I have been wrestling with the fact that God did not rescue Jesus, God's son, from the cross. The question, then is, why do we think God will rescue us from the pain in this world?
Thank you, Nadia, for addressing one of the things I have been pondering for some time.
Hi Toni! So good to hear from you. I love the "sugar daddy" comment xo
Decades ago - in my pious/anxious/addicted teens - I did a crude drawing of a machine I called "Vend-A-Blessing." I still have that drawing. It's a sort of combination slot machine (handle on the side) and vending machine (coin slots - there were no credit cards back then). It reflected my experience of praying devoutly for stuff (including the cure of my addiction) and how random it all felt.
This morning - before reading Nadia's wonderful post about God's Gumball Machine, I was reflecting on the Eleventh Step: "Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood God, praying only for knowledge of God's will and the power to carry that out."
It was that word "only" that got my attention. It seems to be a limiting word: it's okay to pray for THIS, but not for THAT. But I don't think it's a matter of limiting the subject matter of my prayers; I'm invited to pray about anything that is on my mind. It's not a limit, but a focus.
It reminds me of Augustine's admonition, "Love God, and do as you please." That's not a license to do whatever I want (!) but a recognition that the more I love God, the more what "pleases me" will align with God's will. But of course I don't love God all that much. I like to think I do - love God and my neighbor, all that. But I am so prone to screwing that up - and I have a very long history of doing massive damage to others and myself - that I really don't trust myself to "do as I please."
Early in Recovery my sponsor said to me that when he was deep in his addiction, he would often pray, "Grant my wishes." But he never prayed, "Thy will be done."
There's an old song that invites me "to carry everything to the Lord in prayer." So I do. Sometimes. When I think about praying, which isn't all that often. Even though you might think that after well over 70 years of praying I'd be good at it by now. But when I pray, I try not to put limits on the subject matter. I can and do pray for kids in Gaza and hurricane victims and abused children and friends struggling with addiction. I can pray for an unemployed friend or another who's desperately sick. I can pray for the strength to stay sober another day. I can pray for my grandkids. I can pray for the preservation and strengthening of democracy. I can pray for peace and for justice. All very appropriate. But I can also pray about that twinge that suggests I'll probably need hernia surgery. I can pray that my neighbors quiet down tonight so I can sleep. I can pray that my pension fund doesn't go bankrupt, or that my car doesn't break down, or that my daughter starts speaking to me again.
I'm quite good at telling God what to do. And God is quite good at being God. I'm really not sure what prayer does, if it's supposed to "do" something. But that thing about conscious contact? Being in the presence of God? It's real. That's why, when I pray, I lead with thanksgiving, with heartfelt gratitude.
I often wonder, when it comes down to it, what does "loving God" even mean? Is it really just loving the ideas I have about God?
When I faced the prospect of prison, I was terrified. I wanted a magic potion, or a wand I could wave and say, "Expecto Patronum" to make fear slither away. So, being a devout sort (sort of), I looked at the First letter of John: "Perfect love casts out fear." I'm not capable of perfect love. But it also says, "God is love." Also, "we love because God first loved us."
How do I love God? By noticing blessings and giving thanks. I could look around at all the things that were going to make me miserable, and I'd spend eight years being miserable, and I'd never run out of material. Or... I could look for blessings that prompted thanksgiving. And, amazingly, I learned during those eight years that I would never run out of material.
How do I love God? Jesus said it: by loving my neighbor. I was in a scary place, full of broken, beautiful, scary people. I made the choice to look for opportunities to be kind. Kindness isn't just "being nice," it's offering an apple from my food tray; it's standing guard at the shower with my back turned so that my transgender neighbor could have some privacy. It's befriending people.
How do I love God? Gratitude and kindness. That's all there is.
Richard
Such great insight here, as usual.
I have a difficult time expressing my thoughts about prayer. It’s been a long time since I understood it as a list of requests. These days I sit in silent meditation, listen, and maybe offer the interrupting thoughts as prayers.
But there have been two occasions in my life when answered prayer was specific- for lost wedding rings. Both times they were found in an unlikely manner. Whenever I grow doubtful about prayer, I have those two experiences that challenge me. IDK.🤷♂️ I take them as a reminder of how important meaningful, intimate relationships are for us.