A look at prayer

It is not a surprise to me that the dynamics of my everyday life come into play in my attempts at prayer and meditation. When I begin to enter this space of prayer, there is an anticipation in me, a desire that is also very closely linked to a demand to have intimacy. Desire can easily be confused with control.

I sit, I wait, I want something to happen. I want to feel the presence of God. I want to feel freed up. I want. I want.....I demand. Wait. Now I'm demanding. God. Where are you? Why aren't you meeting me in this time? Meet me here. I'm annoyed that you're not here. Why don't I have peace. Give me some f-ing peace, damn it...Okkkkaaayyy. Let's try that again...

And there you go, the anticipation of a space of prayer, peace, and relaxation morphed into a time of contemptuous annoyance at life. Control disguised as desire.

And yet desire cannot be feigned. Control trying to be desire will always end up short, demanding what cannot be, what can only be given by being. And true desire can only be.

Which is where in my time of prayer there is a turn. When I know I cannot make something happen, I can only wait and allow for whatever will happen to happen. When I stop demanding, and just sit, still enough to be able to hear a whisper. The Spirit speaks in a whisper.

A mindfulness podcast spoke of scientists who oddly model the spirit of meditation, because they are continually studying and researching to uncover that which they do not know. They are always on the cusp, waiting for what has not yet become but soon may be.

So similar to prayer; the space where we learn to be ok with not knowing. And this is different than simply forgetting the whole thing. That is just avoidance, resignation. Prayer is the space where one waits, where one wants, and allows this want to take them to the eager expectation of what soon may be. Waiting for the next scene to unfold. It's easy to be on the edge of your seat in a good movie, caught up in those defining moments, those points everything so far leads up to and everything past will be affected by. Much harder to be caught up in the small, in your breath, in the sensation the moment offers. And yet it is in those moments, those supposedly dull, mundane moments, where the Spirit speaks, "There is more for you right here, right now, than you can dream of, if you would only let me bless you with it."

Prayer then is receiving, the receiving of blessing, and any blessing can never be given in coercion and control. It feels like a paradox, as I create space, taking an active part in allowing. Actively receiving.

Desire and control, they come off so similar. But get closer, and it becomes obvious that true desire cannot be feigned. A poor attempt at faking desire will end up looking like a frustrated, whiny, irritated, adolescent temper tantrum when things don't go the way control wants. Prayer is the practice ground, working out this old whiny self. Instead of screaming with my hands covering my ears, I breathe my way through what is being offered this very moment, and the next, and the next. I believe laced within these breaths is the whisper of the Spirit that waits, without coercion, to see if I am willing to listen.