PRAYER; WHATS IT ALL ABOUT?

“I’ve been touched by the smallest gestures – a squeeze of the hand, a gentle touch, a reassuring word,”In some ways these quiet acts of humanity have felt more healing than the high-dose radiation and chemotherapy that hold the hope of a cure.”

Kenneth B Schwartz

Going through life has thought me alot about prayer. So what has the 58 year old me learned. Just to back track a bit, I grew up in a traditional Irish catholic home. My mother constantly prayed for us all, rosaries; novenas were a daily part of our lives and as a child I just accepted it as part of who we were. Mind you, I’d often hope she’d forget to say the nightly rosary but no matter what was going on, the beads would appear and dare any of us even try object.

We went to mass on Sundays and holy days. First Friday confessions were the norm, with hands joined and looking as devout as I could, I’d ramble off, in my little sing song voice. “Bless me father for I have sinned”….and then I’d think really hard of some that sounded plausible enough but not too serious in case I’d get into a heap trouble.

I continued this routine throughout my teenage years. When I left home to train as nurse I drifted a bit. [Now my mother didn’t know this.] I dipped in and out of mass when the mood took me and for a while I went to charismatic meetings which were popular in the 80’s While I wasn’t conforming to what I had grown up, with there was obviously something inside me that wondered what this thing called life was it all about.

I stopped going to confessions because it just made no sense to me. But on the week of my wedding my mother marched me up to our local church for confessions [I swear that is true, and the 24 year old me knew better to even try to object.]. I sat in front of the priest not knowing what to say, so we just had a chat. It would have sounded a bit odd if, at 24 I started saying what I used to say as a child! Bless me father…….

As a mother I went through the rituals of christenings, communions, confirmations and did what was expected of me as a parent. Now don’t get me wrong I wasn’t a non believer but my faith was nothing like what my mother and her generation had, ie an undying unquestionable belief in all the church preaching’s. I still loved the fact that she prayed for us though, and took great comfort from the knowing.

So fast forward to me at 58, what does it all mean to me now.? Like a lot of things in my life, when I find myself trying too hard with anything, I try to stop trying!! Somewhere along the way that’s exactly what I did.

Doing this has allowed me to feel, experience, and see what is going on around me and as a result I’ve reached my own personal way to pray. When we are sick or challenged by any life crisis, people often tell us to pray and of course they mean well. But in all fairness, if we haven’t done it for a while, how do we begin when we are already stressed? Trying to do it then often only adds to the stress. Maybe at these times, acceptance that others are doing it for us is a prayer in itself. There really is a great strength and release in doing this.

As I watch people struggle with life events I see prayers happening in the most miniscule moments of time. A wish, a gentle touch, a loving thought, a candle lighting, a good intention, an act of love, a blessing , all happening, all powerful, all extraordinary moments of prayer in the simplest way.

I see that every moment of every day, and how we live those moments, is the greatest prayer of all. There’s not much point going to mass every morning and then spending the rest of the day being a bit of a tyrant! It has to be about every moment and every breath we take.

It’s about not being perfect all the time, not getting it right all the time, and then saying “sure that’s ok, for today I’m doing my best ”.

It doesn't matter how I do it, whether my head is bowed in silence or simply going about my daily tasks, it’s whatever feels right for me. I still believe in the rituals of church ceremonies and mass but I go only when I want to.

Churches are beautiful places of worship but we can pray anywhere. Cars, fields, mountains, showers, even the bath, are all okay. Prayer can be as simple as letting go, of acceptance, of help, of the simple act of forgiveness. My childhood morning offering has evolved into a handing over the day ahead and my night time prayer...... “Now I lay me down to sleep...has become a reflection of the day and how I lived it.

Finally for me the most powerful prayer is the pure unconditional love we show to our children. Love flowing directly from our heart to theirs continues on through the circle of life and creates a prayer without any words needed.

And that my friends, is once again, my way of finding the meaning of life in the ordinariness of thisthing called life

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