Prayer is essential

Every time I sit down to write one of these episodes, I pray – if I remember. Perhaps I should pray that I will remember to pray. However, I suppose I could forget to do that, too.

Of course, there is no guarantee that prayer will sharpen my dull wits. Certainly I will be unable to blame God for failing to do the work He has assigned me. Even so, prayer is a great companion to any endeavor.

It seems to me that my prayer life is very weak. How about you? From “Day One” we have been taught to say our prayers. Early on we are taught the Sign of the Cross, the Our Father, the Hail Mary. Later on in life we learn prayers like “Help!” and “God have mercy on me!”

A Passionist priest told me that if everyone would say “Jesus I love you” once a day, it would change the world.

O, I pray; but I don’t pray, you know what I mean?

Show me somebody who spends 45 minutes a day in personal prayer and I’ll show you somebody who’s accomplishing God’s will in their life.

Why can’t I spend 45 minutes a day in personal prayer? Why is it such a struggle? I bet I could find 45 minutes for a good installment of “Hill Street Blues,” or 45 minutes to linger over a good meal, or 45 minutes to dawdle. But pray? Infinitely postponable. It’s like there’s a numbing, rejection mechanism inside me that goes off similar to the feeling I have sometimes facing a ransacked kitchen after a hot meal, complete with pie, and it’s my turn to do the dishes.

Perhaps I am intimidated by not really having anything to pray about. Of course, that is no excuse.

Probably you have heard the story about the old man who would sit in church hour after hour until one day the pastor approached him. “What are you praying about?” the pastor asked. “Is something troubling you?” “No,” the old man said. “I just sit here and look at God and He looks at me.”

A teaching on intercessory prayer recently at St. Boniface in Lafayette by Stephanie Culhane gave me some delicious insights, even though I wasn’t there. Those who did attend told me about her point that distraction in prayer may not be a distraction at all. It might just be the Holy Spirit guiding us as to whom or what to pray about. That makes a lot of sense to me.

Jesus told us to go in to our room, close the door, and pray. Our heavenly Father would hear our prayer offered in secret would reward us in secret.

So there, I have no excuse. I should be praying even when I don’t have anything to pray about, and I become distracted. I should be praying because Jesus told me I should be praying.

Maybe I don’t have 45 minutes. But what about five? There’s a modest proposal, huh? Surely I have five minutes a day when I can go in my room, close the door, and pray. Five minutes. Surely I’ve got to be the last one left who isn’t offering at least five minutes a day in real prayer to my God.

O well, I’ve always said that I don’t care if I’m the last one in the Pearly Gates. Just please don’t close them without me, Lord.

written by Thomas A. Russell
first published in the Lafayette Sunday Visitor in June of 1986