Meditation on Praying
Sometimes I find that I cannot pray. I find that what I say sounds like empty words, recited because they are expected, but not heard; planned but not moving. Like sound in a carpeted room. I sometimes feel I can no more speak for a congregation than the next person. Or, I find myself wondering if the next person could speak better than I. Sometimes I think that my prayers sound routine, since I only bring the same things to God week after week, which seem to stem from the collective attitude of the congregations that the prayer requests last week didn't get forwarded properly, or that the answers we sought didn't stick. So we need to beg again. Forgive this; help that; be there; give us peace. Yet if my prayers suffer from a lack of depth, it is likely because I sometimes do not wish to swim any deeper. That has to do with the fact that in the shallows, I always know I can touch with the tips of my toes. In the depths , tho...