Cloak of Confusion

I am messed up.

I don’t know how to pray.

In fact I am not convinced I even grasp the definition of prayer.

Is it an action? A thought? An attitude? Perhaps all of the above?

The concept of prayer is a force so powerful, I tremble at just the thought of entering the question.

Conclusion eludes me, but after stepping into the quicksand only to cowardly grasp a tree branch of complacency and tiredly hover above, I have glimpsed my previous error of not.

I am sufficiently sure it is not the act of compiling a wish list of consumeristic wants to a Santa-Jesus.

I am sufficiently sure it is not a self-focused attitude of desire. (Unless that desire is to change the selfishness.)

I am sufficiently sure it is not about requesting convenience.

I am convinced that not all pain will disappear even with the most earnest appeal to God. A cloak of confusion surrounds me even as I type those words, bringing me back to the futile question of why?

But while temporarily immersing my feet in the dirt, I have also glimpsed possibility.

The possibility that prayer is all about the heart, about character and about love.

Still feeling at a deficit when it comes to understanding, all I can do is free my soul to cry out, “Please change me.”

For now, that is the best I can do, as I (pray) for courage to let go of the branch and re-enter the consuming question.

 “Prayer is not asking. Prayer is putting oneself in the hands of God, at His disposition, and listening to His voice in the depth of our hearts.”
― Mother Teresa

Amen.

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