I hope that folks who read my posts about prayer do not get the idea that I am a holier-than-thou type of person, so gloriously involved in prayer that I know it all. Today, for example, I had no idea what to write. I didn’t even want to write about prayer. Today, tonight, I am worried and it is blocking my thinking and also blocking my desire to pray.
What I have found is that when I think I am too distraught to pray, that is the time I truly need to pray. So, because half of my blog posts are about prayer, I gave in and started writing. In the writing, I have paused a few times already, to thank God for being there for me, and to ask him to clear my fuzzy, worried mind so that I could pray properly.
I remember the morning my mother passed away - 5:30 AM, in October, 1994. It was a Sunday. I didn’t even want to go to Mass that morning. I don’t know why I went over to church, but I did. I rarely had a chance to see the priest before Mass but this morning, he was in the vestibule. I asked him if he thought God would mind if I skipped Mass and told him what had happened and that I was still unable to control my tears and didn’t want to upset my fellow worshipers. He was very wise. He said to go with my heart but that if I chose to, I could sit in the adjoining chapel, hear the entire Mass in private, cry all I wanted, and that there was a box of tissues in there. I went, and I was so glad I did. In the solitude, and yet surrounded just a wall away by others, I found my peace.
Thank you, God, for the wisdom of your devoted clergy.
No comments:
Post a Comment