What about prayer?
Recently I've been thinking about how there are some things that seem like you can really be an expert on, but the proof is in the pudding.
{One of those things is raising a family. You know that I got going on blogging because I was shaking my head just a little, reading those mommy blogs where lovely ladies with two small children — girls, no doubt, not that I don't love girls, I do, but most little girls will give you more time on the computer than most little boys, that's just a fact — telling you all about how to discipline children, how to raise children, what not to do, what to do.
But who knows how things will turn out for them? Perfectly fine, no doubt. Honestly, when my kids were little, and when my boys were building forts out of cushions every day and jumping off the garage roof and I was nursing the baby and pregnant and not being able to sweep the floor, much less hang pom poms from armoires, if I had seen those lovely fashionable houses and clean rooms and thin bodies and amazing decorating projects, I would have felt a little discouraged.
And many a lively child has emerged from an unphotogenic household. So I thought I'd chime in with my own thoughts. And then Rosie started this blog, so I was able to do so.}
So don't even think about prayer.
You don't catch me talking about prayer. I know too much! I know that if you can't know much about how to teach your kids about the sun and the moon so they will appreciate them, you can hardly know whether you are praying or not.
As dear Walker Percy said, “A stranger approaching you in the street will in a second's glance see you whole, size you up, place you in a way in which you cannot and never will, even though you have spent a lifetime with yourself, live in the Century of the Self, and therefore ought to know yourself best of all.” {Lost in the Cosmos: The Last Self-Help Book}
Our own selves are so unknowable, somehow.
So all I do is try to pray. I have no idea whether I do or not. I have come to rely more and more on the Church and her liturgy. The Mass, and lately, the Hours — the Divine Office. Even a snippet. Even a half a psalm or a Gospel verse. St. Anthony, whose feast is today, realized he had to spend every moment in prayer. We can but try!
I wouldn't let you in on my interior life for the world. As soon as I tried, I'd be making it into an exterior life, wouldn't I?
I admire those who can share their prayer experience. I hardly know if I have a prayer experience.
I'm one of those for whom naming something as an experience instantaneously changes it into something it's not, and might mislead you if I am not careful. Percy again. Also perhaps Heisenberg.
So all I'd say to you, if you are having difficulty in prayer, is don't compare yourself to anyone else, except for a saint who is long gone –and then only to their love of God, not their particular way (other than Our Lady, and notice how much we really know about her, hm?), which can often be a bit…odd. We're all so unbalanced, you see. You know how we got that way, right? It's in our bones….
You can depend on what the saints say, only because the Church says you can, having subjected them to a scrutiny that rises above our self-interest — or, for that matter, our lack of self-interest, which is just as destructive to our true well being.
Every once in a while you come across someone living — either a friend or a writer — who helps you out of a difficulty. That's the Holy Spirit, and any advice-giver worth his salt will freely admit that. If that help makes you more peaceful, even in an upheaving kind of way, then great. But if it makes you anxious, then move on.
But don't think that everyone gets their Holy Spirit lessons tied up with a bow, or neatly packaged for consumption. I confess I'm rather impatient after all these years to think that some people do really get lessons doled out to them at just the right times — during Adoration, or meeting a homeless person. That never happens to me!
I'm so very lesson-deficient.
And yet…since God has granted me some years, I can see that struggles I had long ago are only bearing fruit now, and not linearly, but change-in-motion-wise — call it spiritual calculus. Only I never was good at math, so I just take it on faith that He has me in hand, and I have to trust the decades to Him, not just the moments.
Can you do that?
While you are wondering how to talk to Him and where He is in the midst of your loneliness and friendlessness and fallenness or busyness and craziness and prosperity, can you imagine that He might gob-smack you tomorrow with a big old Moral of the Story, but He might also be preparing you for something so far down the line it might not be worth fretting over it right now? Tell Him that — that you are willing to wait and see.
And that might be prayer. For all I know.
Photos taken with my iPhone, as I have no idea how to take a camera skiing. |
Barbara says
Beautiful. All true. And I bet He has sent you plenty of lessons, dear lady. You are just so trusting you weren't at all waiting for them.
Mrs.B says
Love that!! Awesome pics too!
Katherine says
“Our own selves are so unknowable, somehow.” I am reading Francois Mauriac's “Therese” (NOT about the saint) and I see through his writing how difficult it is to know oneself and the motives of ones actions. Depressing book, but worth reading.
_Leila says
Katherine, I love that book. Also, Vipers' Tangle. What a breathtaking exercise in point of view…
Pippajo says
How very beautiful. I find there are very few of those Road to Damascus lessons that I thought I'd have when I was younger (blame my flair for the dramatic). Instead I find my spiritual growth to be similar to that of my hair, nails or waistline. I take a good look every now and then and think, “Huh, when did THAT happen?” I couldn't see it while it was happening, but it happened.
Ole Hallesby, in his book simply titled, Prayer, compares praying to the old treatment for tuberculosis: simply lying passively and quietly out in the fresh air and sun, soaking them up and allowing them to work their gradual, gentle cure. “To pray is nothing more involved than to lie in the sunshine of His grace, to expose our distress of body and soul to those healing rays which can in a wonderful way counteract and render ineffective the bacteria of sin.” I love that image!
Very thought-provoking, as always!
_Leila says
Pippajo, thanks for that quote. Lovely.
Tracy C. says
“I have to trust the decades to Him, not just the moments.”
I am writing this down and I'm going to ponder this in my heart.
And I love Walker Percy, just love his writing so much.
Cary says
I am one, too, that must have to wait the decades. More so lately, as I read about the saints, I have thought, wouldn't that be wonderful to have a vision of God, or Our Mother, and then I think….oh, maybe not, probably not. The responsibility. I like this post because in those thoughts of mine, I was thinking, 'Why don't You talk to me like you did the saints, God?' Well, your post is perfect. I know He has, and He has at certain times, just not all dramatic like and definitely, it took decades and decades. But, the best thing I know, He's been there all along.
womanofthehouse says
“I have to trust the decades to Him, not just the moments.”
So true! I often think of Moses, who was 80yo when God called him to lead the Israelites out of Egypt. I think of my husband, who at 46 is just now moving into pastoring (Lutheran), but I see all the years of experience and growth in the Lord standing him in good stead now. He's going to be a great pastor (with the Lord's help, of course!).
I no longer read blogs of young mothers. (Sorry to all you young mothers out there!) I always wanted to tell them to relax and it will still be all right. Or tell them not to be so smug and sure that their methods are as failsafe as they think. I think there's a reason Titus tells the older women to be teaching the younger . . . This is why I love your blog.
_Leila says
Thanks. I think we learn a lot from others' blogs, but we just have to remember that no matter what, putting something out there for others' consumption is different from living it. Let's learn but not compare and despair!
Rachel says
Thank you for this post. It is honest and encouraging.
Nicole says
How have I tried to embody continual prayer while in a fallen body:
Let my actions/words be a testament to what is in my heart while verbally or silently asking God to change my heart.
Deborah says
Thanks so much for sharing this! I love this blog so much and needed this today 🙂 Thank you – Thank you!
Diana says
What a beautiful post, and timely for me. Thank you! Lots to ponder.
Anna says
I am in a season of growing pains. Ouch. So many little things that are adding up to big changes in my heart. It feels both peaceful and chaotic all at the same time. I feel like my skin is both tight and stretched out.
Poems, a hug, connections, and love have all made some new impression in my soul. It's no ordinary January!
MaryBeth says
beautiful post and beautiful pics… very encouraging… I esp appreciate the part about wild boys and not being able to even sweep the floors! 😉
Sandy says
“I wouldn't let you in on my interior life for the world. As soon as I tried, I'd be making it into an exterior life, wouldn't I? ”
We would all do well to remember this, especially those of us with blogs who can share our “lessons” with all the world.
Patty says
Thank you for the thoughts! And thank you for NOT sharing what it is you DO do by way of prayer, because you're right, it is SO easy to compare and get discouraged.
Since our camera was stolen, I take all of our blog photos on my iPhone and while they aren't always the clearest, they aren't bad!
Deirdre says
Thanks, Mommy!
I love the pictures, especially the one of Roxie jumping through the snow!! Awww!
sibyl says
Good grief, these photos are beautiful, I mean, really particularly beautiful, in composition and in subject. Probably the Holy Spirit was looking over your shoulder thinking, “I'll give them a little visual confirmation of what she's talking about …”
Prayer. After so long of failing at it, I begin to understand that the only thing I can “do” is just try again, and trust. I think almost everything in the Bible reinforces the concept that we need to trust. WAY MORE than we do or can. Trusting when we can't trust is called faith.
I used to be that smug young mom. And today, God allows me to eat every smug word I ever said. It's been a hard day. So thanks.
Marg says
You went skiiing! I love it. My seven year old has been begging me to take her – and the park is just across the street. Been too busy. But maybe I should do that. Your beautiful pics just inspired me. And the beauty of my surroundings would probably inspire me to – uh – pray! Most definitely.
priests wife says
“I wouldn't let you in on my interior life for the world. As soon as I tried, I'd be making it into an exterior life, wouldn't I?”
Earth-shatteringly amazing words- if I were Oprah, I would call it an A-HA moment
Brooke M. says
What a beautiful post; it's the ones like these that drew me to your blog in the first place. I myself am a young mother but I often find myself drowning in the day to day so I don't even like reading some young mothers' blogs! It's a recipe for emotional disaster, in my opinion. I do the best I can for my family and myself and use prayer, in whatever form I manage it, to lean on. Thank you again so much….you might not know it but you are a beautiful example of the kind of mother so many women who read your blog want to be.
Breanna says
I get so encouraged by the fresh evidences of His care, even though I usually can't see them until after they happen. The Psalm for the day is always something I need, even though I might not know it when I read it; His timing is always perfect, even when it's drastically different than my timing. Moments or decades… 🙂 It reminds me of a quote from someone, I think Tennyson, who says that God is neither here nor there but holds “here” and “there” in His heart.
Holly says
Leila, I've been reading your blog for 6 months or so after just coming across it by “chance” :). It always hits me just where I am that day. Thank you for sharing your life and family with me….it makes a difference. Thank you.
Mamabear says
A global yes! I made myself a little crazy last year reading about all the things I should be doing, in addition to the laundry and the dishes and the feeding of young tummies, hearts and minds. My own little space is on hold for now also.
I love to pray while rocking a baby. The goodness is immeasurable! And I know these days will be gone in a flash.
St Elizabeth Ann Seton had 5 children, I think 2 or 3 were boys who went to boarding school….do you think she would have still become a saint if they had lived at home with her? Just kidding.
mamabear says
Did I really type “still become?” I should hold off on comments until I can take the time to be literate.
NANCY says
Beautifully & humbly written!
Beth says
Leila,
Refreshingly wise and funny, too. Thank you for your insights. If you've allowed your interior to the exterior for just a bit, it's for the good of your readers. I thank you – and I would love to quote that last paragraph or so, with proper attribution, of course.
_Leila says
Yes, Beth, of course. Anyone can link or quote — a link is always appreciated! God bless.
deb meyers says
“I have to trust the decades to Him, not just the moments.”
how is it i read this after a last night's late ponderings: where did the 2000s go, shouldn't i be in such-and-such a place after 10 years? and other related decade-ish thoughts and worries.
thank you.
san says
As always such words of wisdom and beautiful photography. Your kitchen cloth musings also made me smile… need to go check the cloth situation immediately!!