Understanding Prayer. Part I.

Prayer is of a funny thing. Sometimes I lay in bed with my eyes closed, stomach up, head rested on my hands which are resting on my pillow, and I think to God. Just think to Him. You know, "Dear God, such and such and such. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Sorry, sorry, sorry. Will do better tomorrow. Amen." And to be completely honest, a lot of times I think stuff like "And let it be so that tomorrow I may..." or "And I thank you for the multitude of blessing in which you've bestowed..." Stuff like that. I don't even realize I do it. Subconsciously somewhere I created the idea that the only way to reach God was to talk in a verse of sorts, to match the prayers we are supposed to have memorized. In doing so, God will listen more, and I will be more open to receiving His graces. What a joke. It's got no soul, no passion. Or, as we would say at LSCL, it doesn't have any of the 5 criteria. It's empty.

Sometimes I think about people that pray kneeling on their bedsides, speaking out loud into the darkness or out their windows. I mean, hey, more power to them if that's what works for them, whatever floats your boat. It makes me chuckle laugh...not at...no, yes, at them. "But that's an act of faith. It's done regardless of another's judgment." Oh, and I agree, but I can still find humor in it. Why? Because bedside prayer reminds me of children when they pray. Children believe that's how it's done; right before bed, kneel, hands all together and pointy, "Dear Jesus." It becomes formulaic, and in a sense it has about as much to do with prayer to God as it does when asking Santa for a wish list.

I've been doing my best to up my prayer game. Make it less formulaic, more organic. Less ‘point A, B, C - listen to me', more ‘God, every other relationship I'm in requires paying attention, actual conversation, and getting to know. And since my relationship with you is supposed to be the cream of the crop...let's do this right'. So I started big yesterday in the car. Now if you know me, you can imagine what this looked like. I use a lot of expression in my face and gestures of my hands and arms when I talk...I have a lot of energy...so do your best to imagine this if you were driving by.

"Dear God...nope...F*** that...do you mind if I say the F-word...sorry...not that it's a big deal, I'm sure you've heard it before, you're a big boy, you can handle the F-word...well whatever...Sup, Lord? You keeping up? I'm sure you are. How are you? I assume nothing but the best. Yeah, I'm okay...yeah okay, maybe I have something on my mind...and I told God about what was on my mind...and then I went into it. DAMNIT, ya know, way back when you had all these angels and stuff visiting everyone, telling them their purpose, their meaning, their babies are on the way, what happened? Where's the angel juice anymore? All I need is a sign, just the smallest iota that I am on my path, that I am fulfilling my purpose, that I am on my way towards the greatness of serving this world, and I am being all that I am cable of being. That's all I want. I mean shit, it's not like you don't have any walking around. I'm sure they are all busy and stuff. But, come on! What's a half hour just to sit down, have a little bit of a Q and A? Fine...I don't even need that...gimme 15 minutes...15 minutes with an angel and I'm sure I'll find out what I need. No, this isn't a test to your ability type thing...I don't need proof through your appearance...if I did there'd be no way in Hell I'd be talking to you like this...but come on...Joan of Arc got one...all I want is 15 minutes. I want to know something, a hint of assuredness."

And then I sat in my somewhat easing temper. And I ‘listened' for God to answer. This is another confusing thing in religion in which I never quite understood. "Listening" for God's reply. I sat...in silence...driving my car...and I listened. I heard jack for about 10 minutes...so I went back into it.

"And that's another thing. What is with all this listening stuff? See, when I'm working on a relationship, talking with friends and family, it's a conversation piece...I say my part...they say theirs and vice a versa. It doesn't take them 10 minutes to reply. If that happened on the phone, I'd hang up. WTF? If you want this to start working out. ERRRRRR...I can't put the blame on you...I'm the human...I know I know...but come on. How the hell am I supposed to listen for you. What am I even listening for? Are you eventually going to speak, will I have a dream, is their going to be a strange coincidence-mini-miracle. What's all this listen to you stuff?"

I cooled down and listened. I laughed outloud as I often do. I said my last piece.

"Alright alright alright. It's been real, I'm glad we're talking again"

"Oh, Amen."

And I arrived safely home. I read a little bit, showered, and meditated until I fell asleep. Last thing I remember was waking up at 3:30 am, because of a dream.

It was a football game going on at some college, I left and was walking down a long lit tunnel. The lights were an orange-red and lined the walls of the rather long tunnel. Upon exiting the tunnel, it was sunny out. A group of four guys, I assume friends of mine, were talking or doing something to the right of me, and to my left I saw a man with one of those full black knit ski masks on smoking a cigarette. He stood where the tunnel met the hill and there was a shadow as the man leaned against the cement of the tunnel. I felt uneasy and went back down the tunnel. As I walked another man came towards me, he was wearing a white and blue polo and jeans. I don't know why I had the urge, but as I passed him, I whispered "Help me!" and kept walking. I saw a heating vent and opened it and crawled into the ducts where I found a small space to hide. As I was in their, I could slightly see through the vent at the inside of the tunnel. As I looked, I heard the man that I had just passed running back yelling "Help me! Please help me!" as the man in the mask gunned him down and then came after me.

I woke up. My initial reaction was, "God, I have no idea what sort of artistic liberties you are taking recently in order to relay your messages, but it's not working out big guy." And I thought, that wasn't an answer to my prayer. Of course it wasn't, it was a dream. I have no idea where it came from, to be honest, I don't like sleeping because of what my dreams are. I don't really like sharing them because of what people might think goes on inside my head. But my dreams rarely have any relation to my thoughts from the day before. They come out of nowhere.

Kind of like God and his answers to my prayers. One day, when I'm not expecting it, when I'm not looking for an answer, for love, for right, for wrong, for whatever it is I am asking for, the answers will come. They will come out of nowhere, with no rhyme or reason, when I don't even know how they got there...or how I got there for that matter. The answers will come out of nothing, out of space, out of a weird coincidence of events, and it will make sense. I will be okay, and I'll feel that much more comfortable in knowing I am where I am supposed to be when I realize the answer is nothing that needs to be found.

Say Hello to God tonight...or to the Universe...or the Great Mystery...or the Creatory...or Muhammed...or Allah...or whatever you believe in...even if you don't believe in anything...just for me...just tonight...open your eyes...look up...smile really really big...wave and say "Hey, how you doin'?" That's all. And then find comfort in the silence, understanding that even if you don't believe, someone or something heard you.

Amen