Prayer

 

 

 

I remember being afraid of thunder storms as a child. I remember waking up in the middle of the night during one such barrage of noise and light that so frightened me I walked down the hallway to my mother's bedroom and stood by watching her sleep. Perhaps I thought I could think her awake. But she slept sound so I tapped her gently on the arm with my finger. I can still see her face look up at me with a start. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"I'm afraid of the thunder." I replied with little drama, as I have always been somewhat protective of my emotions and often give the impression of this uncanny calm person in the storm. This dry display on the outside has often lead therapists and doctors who are not intuitive to diagnose me as being perfectly fine when on the inside I might be raging. So, of course, my mother said to me, "Go back to bed and say a prayer and you will be fine."

And I did and I was.

I have another memory of being afraid of the dark and my mother coming in to sit with me by my bed. She said all I had to do was pray and I would not be afraid. She taught me a prayer about guardian angels who would watch over me. To this day, I still think of that moment during fearful times and find comfort in its reasoning and probability.

I don't know if the simple act of a child’s prayer has significance in my memory bank of being something that would always be successful, as it worked perfectly well those two nights, and probably many other nights of now forgotten childhood trauma and fear.   I came to understand that God was listening to me and I would be fine if I prayed.

The Catholics seem to have prayer categorized the most with petition prayers, prayers of absolution, tons of prayers for all kinds of occasions;  so many I won’t go into them.  I was raised Catholic and can still remember learning my prayers, especially the ones I needed to know when I went into that tall wooden box with the velvet curtain to tell the priest I had chewed gum at mass and lied to a nun.  “Say 5 Hail Mary’s, my child!”

Over the years I have studied various methods of prayer.  Centering prayer, Ignatius prayer, Lectio Divina, Walking Prayer, Chanting, Imaging, using art, music, and even sweat lodge prayers.  But I must say the most simple and efficient prayer for me consists of stopping what I’m doing and taking time to be with God.  Someone once said that all God wants from us at times is simply our presence.  We don’t have to pray or talk or even think.  I do believe that is probably the most perfect way of prayer.

And so I thank my mother for teaching me that simple act—that all I have to do is say a prayer and go back to sleep.