It occurs to me that all my prayer diaries address variations on one basic, open-ended question: What is prayer?  As a person called to prayer, I keep wondering what this prayer idea that consumes so much of my time really means.

      Here are the questions that I’m thinking about today.  

~ What does Jesus mean when he says, “This can only be done by prayer.”

~ Does prayer really matter?

~ Can we change the course of events with prayer, and if so do we influence only the good, or can we also effect bad things to happen?

~ What part does my attitude play in the power of my prayer?

~ Does God listen when I pray with a closed heart? Is that really prayer?

~ Traditionally I think of prayer as saying or singing words; sometimes in meditation the words drop away. Are works and good deeds extensions of prayer, or are they actually another form of prayer?

            I could go on and on with more questions, but I’m going to stop for now, because the very act of writing them feels like prayer to me and for now that is enough of an answer. In fact asking the questions may be sufficient for me, and certainly for God.

      Later today I am going to list these questions on the Home page and add to them from time to time.

      Here I am, praying about weather again. Finally it’s a sunny day and like everyone else around here, I am grateful. In the Christian tradition, I’m expressing gratitude.
      Isn’t it amazing how weather can be so local? Beautiful here, storms in the mid-west. Tornado devastation in one town, just a few branches down in the one next door. Seems that we can’t take all the pain or all the joy, so God spreads it around, although never evenly. I don’t believe we can make sense of all of this, but I do know that in the Christian tradition I am led to stay faithful in the midst of ambiguity. More than I can ask or imagine is going on. God’s grace abounds. If I pray, I see it everywhere and all the time.

I have been taking a four week E-Course through Spirituality and Practice, entitled “Creating a Monastery of the Heart with Joan Chittister,” based on Benedictine spirituality. Friday’s topic was “Hospitality,” and here’s what I posted on the ‘Practice Circle.”

       It’s easy for me to think that hospitality means that I have to let people into my life every living minute of my day. I can get in a tizzy believing that more is better—more people invited over, more people visited, more people chatted with, more soup kitchens worked in. Although I’m exaggerating to get my point across, this kind of attitude puts enormous strain on all of us, certainly the introverts, but also the extroverts. 

       For the past ten or so years I have felt God’s call to intercessory prayer. I’m still a novice and my response falls short much of the time. Nevertheless, I do know that when I have hospitality of the heart, something powerful happens between me, the person or situation I’m praying for and God. To me, hospitality of the heart means that I welcome without judgment.

      I’m feeling rather depleted from all the extroverted activities that have been part of my life for the past few weeks. Um, seems that that’s the way it always is unless I am at my cottage by the sea or traveling by myself, with large chunks of time in solitude. So what to do about it? I believe that I am called to prayer but that takes time and I don’t feel that I have been getting the time I need; or perhaps I haven’t been taking the time?

       What do I hear when I take the time to pray about this? That I am called to intercessory prayer, which must be steeped in a full devotional way of living, in a Benedictine way of life of prayer, study and work. This doesn’t mean neglecting the obligations I have out in the world. After all, Benedict also talks about obedience. It’s a question of sifting the wheat from the chaff, of discerning what of value fills my days and what is really a waste of time and energy?

       I like to think I know the differences, but I’m not certain it’s that simple. I’ve been fairly faithful practicing Centering Prayer and they say that its fruits appear In unexpected place and at unforeseen times. I’m still waiting.

      I've been  thinking about the woman on the plane ride home from Ireland on April 19th. In my  www.acottagebythesea.net blog I wrote about why I spent most of the ride ignoring her many overtures to communicate. But let me tell you about the conversation we had after the plane landed while we were waiting to get off. When I zipped out my cell phone, the first message that greeted me was that my brother-in-law was back in the hospital for the third time in a month and a half. Deep breath and quick prayer. But then, as this lady and I started to say good-bye, to my surprise I turned and asked her, “Would you please say a prayer for my brother-in-law who is in the hospital?”
       I was expecting her to say, “Of course I will,” and leave it at that, but no, instead she took my hand and said, “Do you mind if I say a prayer right now?” --and without waiting for an answer, I sat down and closed my eyes and she began. Her first words were, “Father God,” and then, along with asking for healing and peace, she prayed that my brother-in-law accept Jesus as his Lord and Savior.
      Like in a dream, a million thoughts buzzed through my mind. Here I was, returning from a pilgrimage to sacred spaces in Ireland with other women and I was hearing “Father God.”  The pilgrimage was entitled, “The Goddess Within,” so if anything, I was prepared for a prayer that addressed Mother God. Also, let me just say that I express my faith in a different ways, in different language: I don’t pray for people to accept Jesus.
       So there I was, surrounded by anxious travels standing in the aisles waiting to deplane, thinking, “Wait a minute. I’m in charge of the prayer for my brother-in-law. I didn’t ask for those words.”
       Ah, but next, was it grace? As I let go of some of those judgments and control issues, I began  to embrace the deep message of love that I was hearing. There was no need for me be concerned. I had asked for her prayer, and that was what I was receiving from deep in her heart. Her way may not be my way, but if the message of Christianity, in fact of all religions, is love, well, there it was. And anyway, maybe that is all that God hears.

How can I make sense of what’s going on in my family right now? On Mother’s Day my mom celebrated her 101st birthday in her assisted living facility, while three miles down the road, in the very same town, my brother-in-law signed onto hospice at home.
     The Psalmists give us permission to lament. They show us how very human it is to doubt, express anger, be confused, but then they lead us to the possibility of accepting God’s ways and resting in God in spite of difficulties. They lead us to hope.

      Psalm 13:  How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? (1)….
        But I trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation. I will sing to the Lord because he has dealt bountifully with me (5-6).

      Psalm 61: Hear my cry, O God; listen to my prayer. From the end of the earth I call to you, when my heart is faint. Lead me to a rock that is higher than I (1-2)....
      So I will always sing praises to your name, as I pay my vows day after day (8).

      The Christian way is to turn to Scripture for help.

I keep thinking about the story I posted on May 10th about the boy doing all he could to help his lost dog find him. The boy actively laid down a trail, but he had let go of all the struggle and effort to locate his pet. Um, what does that have to do with our search for God and God’s search for us?

    I assume that each of us has a favorite kind of prayer that connects us with God. Mine is definitely intercessory prayer. Not a bad way to pray, but I wonder if I give it such a spotlight on center stage that other kinds of prayer don’t get much of a chance for even a bit part. I try so hard, when all Jesus wants is for me to be with God in all the different ways possible. I need reminders that besides intercessory prayer, like the little boy, I should lay down a trail of praise, thanksgiving, confession and forgiveness. Secretly I should be trying them all.

    Centering Pray is one way to lay down the trail and I’ve been fairly faithful so far, although in no way am I close to a habit. Centering Prayer is a secret way of praying because the benefits are God’s secrets. Cynthia Bourgeault tells us that these benefits don’t appear in our thoughts but in the ways we respond to life. I keep watching for results, but I think that misses the point. God doesn’t reveal all of God’s secrets.

    Here is this morning's reading from “Celtic Daily Prayer: Prayers and Readings from the Northumbria Community.” I've been thinking about it all day. For now, I’ll just share it. Tomorrow I’ll blog about it.
      I read a story about a boy who lost a dog in New York City. As he walked up and down the streets, systematically and slowly, a friend complained that he wasn’t even looking for the dog.

     He answered, “I’m not looking for him. I’m letting him find me. Sooner or later he will discover the trail I am putting down and follow it until he comes to me.”

     In the same way, Jesus is not looking for converts. He has set down a trail which different people pick up at different points and follow until they find Him. The person who prays is also not looking for converts but setting down a track which others will find and follow to Jesus. Maybe a perfect evangelist is one whose work and love is never recognized, who is never acknowledged or thanked by anyone this side of the grave. May Jesus bless the millions who pray in secret.

    Friday’s Centering Prayer was a little sketchy because we made the round trip to Connecticut to celebrate mom’s birthday. My centering prayer had to happen in the car (when I wasn’t driving). I lay back and did my best to empty my mind and just be. I figure that God will give a little slack to anyone who can celebrate her mother’s 101 birthday.
      Mom was surprised and delighted as various family members arrived at the assisted living facility that is now her home. She wanted us to share the cake with all her friends and helpers, but mainly she just smiled. Mom has always had a easy smile; smiling is what she does; the love behind her smile is who she is. She has had a good life, accompanied by some sadness, but all in all she exudes a life of 101 grace-filled years.
     How is it that this mother of mine is graced with a winning smile and all that goes with it? Theological questions abound. Are we born with certain dispositions, or do we cultivate them? What choices do we have about it? Where does grace come in? What about free will? I could go on and on, but this I know and have come to believe. My mom was graced with a lovely disposition; God called her to bring love to others and she chose to do it; she answered the call. If anyone ever wonders if she has lived too long, or questions what her purpose is at this point in her life, just watch the love, joy and hope that she smiles on everyone she meets.

    The other evening I attended a session of Centering Prayer at one of the local churches. What a challenge to sit there in “intentional silence” and let the mind go, to “follow the breath” or, with a sacred word, such as “Jesus” or “be still,” direct the mind back to nothing.
     Cynthia Bourgeault, in her book, Centering Prayer and Inner Awakening, tells us: “Perhaps the most powerful argument (for Centering Prayer) is the one from authority. Virtually every spiritual tradition that holds a vision of human transformation at its heart also claims that a practice of intentional silence is a non-negotiable. Period. You just have to do it.”
       When I listen to God, I hear just that, that I have to do it. Um, am I hearing that I must take some time not to listen to God? We are told that twenty minutes twice a day is all that is required, so I am going to give it a go and see if I can establish a Centering Prayer habit. When I remember the “Jesus Prayer” experience that I started a few months ago, I have faith that I can do this one. I began saying, “Jesus Christ have mercy on me, ” whenever I remembered, and although I certainly  don’t pray without ceasing, I feel I pray it frequently enough to accept that I have formed a habit.
          I’ll let you know how I get along with the Centering Prayer. I’ll confess the ups and the downs, the successes and the “try agains.”