Learning to Have a Conversation

It never ceases to amaze me how something so fundamental to a relationship can be so foreign. I often feel as though I am speaking a different language when it comes to God, and every month I continue to learn things I wish I had learned decades ago. It all began when I was learning to speak and was steeped in a culture that taught me the right words to say, but now I need to learn the right posture to take.

“John had his eyes open!” I would shout around the kid-sized colourful tables. It was snack time in Sunday School, and we were told to shut our eyes to make sure that we were concentrating on God, and not on one another. Sometimes about ‘John’ having his eyes open deeply disturbed me, which is why I needed to out myself.

As I grew, prayer often became a performative exercise. Who could pray with the most passion in their voice? Who could put together the most eloquent sentences that would impress the others in the room? There was sincerity in there, but I still found myself with at least one eye open to see if others were watching.

In the past two years, as we’ve undertaken the journey of fostering a small community that pursues discipleship together God has reminded me just how small I am. I’m eternally grateful that it isn’t in a power dynamic, but rather that He sees the true state of my heart regardless of where my eyes might be, and loves me all the same. He is God in heaven, and I am not.

My daughter was born in the height of the pandemic, and I was privileged to spend the last few years at home with her. She gave (gives?) us a run for our money, and there were many 2 AM sessions bouncing her on an exercise ball where I’ve prayed some of the most honest prayers of my life. Moments of complete weakness, as I processed some deep trauma from others.

It was in these moments that prayer left the theoretical for me. There was no point in being flowery. No one was watching. I had no energy to keep walls up either internally or externally, as exhaustion washed over me like a tsunami. So God and I had conversations about my fears, my insecurities, my anger, and my flaws.

He is Near

The Psalms are one of our most honest views into the prayer lives of ancient Israel. There are Psalms espousing the great attributes of God, Psalms crying out for help, and Psalms that are despondent in tone. They are ruthlessly honest.

Opening our hearts and minds to God is an exercise in returning home. He loves us all the same, already knows everything that we are thinking and considering. As we talked about last month, He invites us to rest.

For some, that is a terrifying realization. A God who knows everything, is over everything, knows every intimate details of our lives. For others, it is a freeing realization that not only is there no point in hiding, but that we cannot hide.

There Are Many Ways to Pray

If you search for prayer techniques, you’ll find enough variation to spend the remainder of your days on earth practicing nuanced ways of talking to God. Some will espouse the benefits of their particular take on prayer, promising fantastic results if only you would do this one thing. The reality is that prayer is like breathing – we all have our own rhythms, and that our rhythms change depending on the season of our life.

When I was working through a severe bout of anxiety, my breath was short and laboured. I couldn’t catch it no matter how fast I chased, it was an elusive pursuit that required professional intervention to bring back under control. As I write this, the sun is shining outside and I’m enjoying the calm interlude that naps offer in our day. My breath is slow and unconscious.

Yet I breathe.

I’ve found that as I’ve grown in maturity in prayer, it takes on more of that attitude: “Yet I pray.”

I may be labouring up a steep hill on my morning run, with deep, measured breaths, or enjoying a gentle swing in our hammock – I pray. It matters to every moment of the day as well – as I discipline our children, or engage in a deeply spiritual conversation with a new person – I pray.

At times, these prayers are fervent and intentional. Other times, they flow naturally. What has changed is my own attitude. I’m more attuned to listening and continuing the conversation with God, as He reveals Himself in my everyday.

This month, I hope you’ll explore with me different rhythms and practices to prayer – and share some of your own with me. There is incredibly beauty in the diverse tapestry of the people of God, who interact with and relate to God in their own unique ways. No doubt, I’ll learn more than a few things from you.