Are You Praying or Simply Reciting Prayers?
As Catholics, one of the most beautiful blessings we have is the prayers that have been passed down from generation to generation. From the Our Father, Hail Mary, and the many prayers that have been passed through the saints, Catholic prayers are some of the most beautiful collections of words in the world.
Long before I converted a few years ago, praying the rosary was an almost daily event in my life. When I first began pursuing a career as a professional writer and author, I started reciting the prayer of St. Francis de Sales, the patron saint of writers. For practically every situation and occasion you could experience, the Catholic Church has a prayer.
As beautiful and comforting as these prayers are, still, something happens inside of us when we frantically pray out of desperation. There’s a stirring in my soul when I cry out to God as if my life depended on it that I don’t feel while reciting something I have memorized. A layer of my heart becomes vulnerable to God that I didn’t know existed.
Up until around two months ago, I was in a spiritually dry season. I’d wondered way off path and was unable to experience Jesus the way I desire. Over the previous eight years, this has happened a few times. There have been a few of these dry seasons for me that have lasted weeks, even months at a time, in the past.
There are times when I experience this and am unable to recognize what brought the dry season on. More often than not, this happens as the result of a specific sin I allow to begin dominating who I am. Regardless of the reason for experiencing these times, they always result in my relationship with Jesus reaching a new peak. A lesson is learned and I exit the season closer to God than I’ve ever been before.
This last dry season was different though. I was weeks into writing a daily devotional book that will be published soon. The focus has been writing on a verse or passage from each of the 89 chapters through the four gospels. Because of how much time this was consuming of my daily schedule, there was plenty of time being spent in prayer and with my nose in the Bible. Still, I wasn’t experiencing the Holy Spirit in my daily life the way I normally do.
During this time I was praying the rosary at least once a day. There are plenty of other Catholic prayers I would recite as each day passed. I have a few of them memorized. Others I have to read out of my Daily Missal or one of my other prayer books. The day I outlined what I was going to write for chapter 14 of the Gospel of St. Matthew, I read something that grabbed my attention. Each day’s devotional I wrote for my book has a reading of around 500 words. It’s kind of limited as far as being able to really pour out my heart with what I’m writing. I’d like to use the rest of this article to be more descriptive with the effect the verse had on me.
Matthew 14:30 But when he saw how strong the wind was he became frightened; and, beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!”
For those who are not familiar with the Bible, this is from the story of St. Peter being called out of the boat to walk on the water. This is right after Jesus feeds the five thousand people. He sends the disciples ahead of Him by boat across the sea. Jesus then dismisses the crowd and goes to be alone on a mountain to pray.
The disciples make it a few miles out before running into strong winds and dangerous waves. They see Jesus walking across the water and get scared, thinking He is a ghost. After Jesus tells them who He is and not to be frightened, Peter tells Jesus if it’s really Him to call Peter out to Him. I like to believe Jesus has to be a little surprised at this. I see Him saying, “Ok big boy. If this is the route you want to take, come on out of the boat.”
Peter makes it a few steps before his surroundings get his attention. Out of fear of drowning, he cries out to Jesus, “Lord, save me.” Keep in mind, just a few chapters back in St. Matthew 6:9-13, Jesus gives the disciples the Lord’s Prayer. Jesus had already given the Sermon of the Mount and done quite a bit of teaching on prayer. Still, when desperation kicks in, Peter doesn’t start reciting prayers. Desperation begins to take over his heart, and “Lord, save me” are the only words he can muster up
I think too many of us search for too much comfort in the prayers of others. We spend time memorizing words of the past. We look for ways others have connected to God instead of searching for an experience of our own. In the past, I’ve placed myself in situations and circumstances where the prayers of others simply weren’t enough. Until I was able to experience the power of God through my own desperation, I was unable to connect with Him the way my heart needed for healing to take place.
The point of me writing this isn’t to downplay the significance or beauty of the prayers we’ve been blessed with from the saints and the Church. The point I’m trying to make is the connection we experience with God when there’s nothing in our prayer treasure chest that works. All we have are a few simple words, begging God to make himself known.
For me, the words “save me Lord” have been more raw and authentic than any prayer I’ve ever read to God. While I’ve never been in a situation where I needed to walk on water, there have been several troubling times in my life. More than once, my wife and I have separated with all intentions of our marriage ending in divorce. There have been more days than I can count where I’ve been unable to make it 24 hours without a drink of alcohol. I’ve had a family member be arrested for drug possession, just to hang himself in jail a few hours later. I’m sorry, but at that moment, a Hail Mary just wasn’t producing the comfort I was searching for.
I’ve experienced first hand the passionate feeling that comes with draining my heart to God. Fancy words and long sentences aren’t required. The vocabulary I use isn’t what reveals the pain and hurt I’m feeling. It’s when my words are limited to my own feelings and emotions that I’m able to receive the healing only Jesus can provide.
More often than not, when I find myself in a position where I’m praying out of desperation, I’ve already done everything imaginable to manufacture the results I’m looking for. I’m still working on praying like this to be my first response. I normally wait until this is the last option I have.
While I’m still in the process of doing everything I can to produce the change I want, complete exhaustion is the only thing I can find. I wear myself so thin, both mentally and physically, that I’m unable to focus on or comprehend reality. I’m useless to both myself and anyone else who might be involved.
This isn’t what happens when I turn to desperate prayer. Somehow, knowing I’ve left everything In God’s control brings a level of comfort, despite what’s going on around me. I tap into a source of strength that’s unavailable until I’ve completely given up and I’m solely relying on Him. Only then am I able to depend on Christ and glorify Him with everything that’s going on around me. When I finally place myself in a position to point others towards Him, I’m provided with a means of getting back in the boat.
For many of us, it’s simply unnatural to demonstrate this level of desperation. Everything we’ve learned concerning chasing the “American dream” tells us there’s always one more thing we can do. Just try a little bit harder, and if you do it right, you can achieve what you’re pursuing without putting yourself out there. Being desperate is a sign of weakness.
When it comes to our prayer life, I believe desperation is a necessity. If spiritual growth and development are important to you, it’s something that is needed. If this is something we are putting energy into avoiding, we’re cheating ourselves. Until this is a place we’re willing to go, there’s a level of God’s love we’ll only be able to read about. If Peter hadn’t been willing to be desperate, I don’t think we’d be reading of anyone getting out of the boat.