Prayer

“True prayer which absorbs the whole individual benefits not so much from the solitude of the desert as from interior recollection.” (Saint Josemaria, “Furrow” at 460)

Christ in the Wilderness (Stanley Spacey)

I have been thinking about prayer.

When I first experienced the Grace of my conversion, the experience was very strange.  I felt – for the first time in my life – that I was able to pray.  I could spend a great deal of time praying to God.  Sometimes these prayers were formal prayers, where I could use specific words and phrases privately in my heart or aloud during the Sacraments or in congregation.  I would use beautiful words that others had provided to me – through the Magisterium of the Church in the form of the Mass, and also in other formal prayers, like the Most Holy Rosary or the Divine Mercy Chaplet.  I also had time to talk to my God.  I spent many hours chatting to God inside my head.  I would yabber away to Him like a little parrot and all the time I chatted, God listened quietly.

Sometimes, He spoke back to me.  Sometimes He would answer by opening my path (or closing it).  But mostly, He would listen silently.

Saint Josemaria wrote in “Furrow” at 460, “True prayer which absorbs the whole individual benefits not so much from the solitude of the desert as from interior recollection.”

And I have been thinking about that today.  For that prayer was very all-absorbing.  I spent my entire day and most of my night praying in some way – in thought in word and in deed.  And the time in my life was the most peaceful and most beautiful.

Since then, time has passed.  And perhaps I have become a little less grateful for the Graces that I have received, and so, there are times in my day when I am not praying.  Perhaps there are times when my work or my worries take precedence.  And the result has been that – though the peace of my conversion has not disappeared – there have been periods of less peace.

The fervour of my original prayers is lacking.  The complete understanding and the complete absorption in the opportunity to pray is still there, but there is less love in it.  Less fervour.

And I have been reflecting on that today.  You see, sometimes temptations are really clear.  Sometimes they are really obvious.  But mostly, temptations are just like this.  Nothing major happens.  Nothing profound occurs.  You might not even know that anything at all has happened at all.  Rather, what tends to happen is that things fall over quietly without my even noticing.  Something that I did daily I will not do every second day.  Things that consumed me before are easily infiltrated with distractions from other very important things.

And before you know it, whole years go by and the mark that you are sitting at is so much further away from the mark where I used to sit that though I can tell I am still sitting on the same side, I am certainly not as peaceful or as comfortable as I used to be…

And I have been thinking about that today.  For it seems that the key to prayer and fruitful prayer is DISCIPLINE!  And that discipline seems to be the key all the way through…

For with prayer, I stand on Holy Ground where everything is clear. Here. At the Foot of the Cross.