I've been thinking a lot about prayer lately: What it is, what we should get out of it, how it should be done, etc.
We were talking about it at breakfast the other day and Fr. A said, that Jesus doesn't talk to him when he prays. Jokingly I said, "He doesn't? He talks to me all the time!" LOL, I'm not sure he realized I was joking as he rebuked me for being caught up in my imagination. Whoops!
That got me thinking though, how much of what we think we understand of God's will for us is our imagination, and how much of it is true? Is there any way to know? I'd be interested in your thoughts on this because I'm not sure I know the answer. God clearly speaks to us, but not always in the ways we think He does.
The Community calls us to contemplative prayer, to opening our souls in silence which is difficult to do, especially for those of us who don't live in monastaries. It is more difficult for us to change the rythms (sp?) of our lives to live a life of contemplation.
Perhaps the most difficult for me is finding a place where I am comfortable in prayer. I don't mean a bodily position, I'm often fidgety at prayer, going from prostration to kneeling, to sitting, and back again. What I'm talking about here is a real physical location. And what "works" one day, may not "work" the next. Thank God it is our desires that matter!
I am most comfortable at prayer at the Novitiate whether it be in the chapel of the Brothers, or Sisters, or just outside there in the (semi) silence. Perhaps it is because I know that no one will think it is odd to come upon me with my face on the floor and butt in the air! Or perhaps because it is my spiritual home and I know that my family of St. John has the same spirit of prayer that I desire to have.
When we first moved away from the Community, prayer was very difficult for me. When my Father died all I wanted to do (especially at night when I couldn't sleep) was run to the darkness of the chapel. I didn't want to go to our local adoration chapel, even though Jesus was there! I wanted more than anything to be home in the arms of the Community. I knew that we were all united in prayer each day at mass, but that didn't seem to be enough.
I was quite disturbed by this. It made me question the development of contemplative prayer and my spiritual life that I had undergone over the past three years. Was I just overly fond of the Community, emotionally attached, too comfortable? Worse yet, was I a poser? Not really interested in a deeper life with Christ, but only in the acceptance and love of the Community? These thoughts and more troubled me deeply. Even more troubling was that I was preparing for Oblature which I had resisted for many years. And here I was facing this. What good was I as an Oblate if I couldn't even keep a constant spirit of prayer?
I was relieved when I received the answers which I had been seeking.
We are both physical and spritual beings. Our immortal souls reside in our physical bodies. We are limited by the physical, no matter how much we wish not to be! Thus it is natural for us to be emotionally attached to a place, person, and even things (within reason of course!).
Not that my problem has been solved mind you. I still struggle in my prayer life, more than I'd like to admit. One man who has recently discovered the Community asked me the other day knowing that I was an Oblate, "How do you structure your prayer schedule? I try to do an hour of silent prayer in the morning and at night..."
For a moment I thought about making a nebulous comment about how we all must pray in accordance with our abilities and state in life, i.e. I can't keep a monastic schedule of prayer, I'm a wife and a student! I realized though that that wouldn't be right, and instead was brutally honest with him. "I struggle with my prayer life. In fact I got a good smack upside the head about it just yesterday!" (Well that's only true if you can call the mercy of Christ a good smack upside the head!)
I think he was surprised, but I hope he was also grateful for my honesty. I am no great saint, far from it as many of you know. The most I can hope is that I will be used by Christ as an instrument of grace to lead others to know Him better, to desire a more intimate relationship with Him. If He uses my failures to do that I am only more humbled by the realization of just how powerless I am, but how His grace can transform even the littlest of His souls.
As a dear friend told me recently, "It is the small consolations which sustain many of us!" Though we walk by faith and not by sight our eyes still see, and our hearts and souls trapped in our bodies still ache and are often restless.
I must remember that even when I am not literally in the arms of the Community that spiritually we remain united. More importantly, I remain in the arms of my Father always.