The last time I was at Mass, when I tried to genuflect before entering the pew, as we do in our church, I had a really hard time getting back off that bent knee; had to pull myself up on the end of the pew, and had to giggle at myself, the old lady. From here on in, instead of a full deep knee bend type of genuflection, it will have to be more of a curtsey.
As for my nightly sessions, the first few months, I had to lean, hard, on the mattress, to get up when finished. I had to stop that. My 13 yr old kitty keeps me company and I was almost flipping him off the bed when I had to lean so heavily to pull myself up. Nowadays, I put my hands between the mattress and the box spring, and press on the box spring for leverage.
Please do not feel sorry for me. I share this because I am getting a kick out of it, out of the things we have to do, to adjust, as we get older. I find life, mostly, something to giggle about, a lot.
The trappings of prayer are sometimes very rigid. Some folks insist on kneeling, and have no compassion for those who can no longer do that. Some insist on a certain number of minutes, or a certain series of prayers.
To me, prayer is a conversation between me and God. I know he understands if I adjust as life changes. There will be a time when I can no longer get down on those knees, and he will be all right with it. There will be a time when I am too old and tired to even remember to pray some nights, and he will be all right with that, too.
The main thing is that I do go to him in prayer, in conversation, as often as I can, to keep in touch, to keep close, to keep him beside me.
Father, thank you for your understanding, your love, your compassion, and for being there as often as I need you, and whenever I need you.
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