Praying Where I’m At
Sometimes the smallest phrases contain big concepts. One of those is the phrase “prayer life.” As in, “working on developing your prayer life.” This spring at my church, we were encouraged to sit down with our spiritual director and discuss what we would do for Lent. To my surprise, our conversation ended up not with a specific fast to do, but a clearer plan for my prayer life. It would actually have been easier to hear “OK, give up chocolate.” I’m a very goal-oriented person, so this was a different kind of challenge, one that nudged me out of the comfort zone a little bit.
So I’ve had that in mind over the past few months, trying to shape a discipline for my life that involves prayer on a daily basis, working it into the fabric of my life, and starting to see – by that effort – that it’s more like the other way around: my life is what ought to get worked around the discipline of prayer. “Pray without ceasing” – what does that mean? Well, if you’re anybody except a monk in a monastery, it probably doesn’t mean reciting actual prayers and liturgy 24/7. But Paul wasn’t writing to a monastery but to a regular Christian community… so prayer is a bigger, broader, more all-encompassing thing than it it seems on the surface.
Well, I won’t pretend that I know what that means, but I have been wrestling with it. A couple weeks ago, I decided to read Richard Foster’s book Prayer. I’d read his Celebration of Discipline and, while a lot of it was clearly over my head, I found some of it very helpful. The book, with its descriptions of different kinds of prayer, seemed to be what I needed – something that would give me a conceptual vocabulary for what I’ve been muddling about with in my own way.
It did end up being useful, but not in the way I (or probably the author) expected. As I read, I felt steadily more intimidated. Though Foster emphasized that we are all on different stages of the journey, I got the sense that this book was definitely for those further along the path than I am…. or perhaps for people who started out from a different place. Many of the misconceptions Foster strives to clear up about prayer are ones that hadn’t occurred to me, while other things that have tripped me up don’t appear on his radar. I think if you grow up praying as a child, your attitude and expectations about prayer are naturally very different than those of someone who never said a prayer, not once, until becoming a Christian as an adult.
The point at which I set the book down was when Foster remarks, almost as an aside, that he wants readers to develop a really deep ongoing conversation with God, not just the shallow kind that just says “Thanks!” or “Please help me with this” during the day. I thought to myself: Wait a sec! For me, it’s a big deal, a new breakthrough, to be able to have that “shallow” conversation in the first place. For a moment, I started to feel rotten and inadequate… and then I thought: God’s working with me where I’m at. He has been, all along – so why should my prayer life be any different? If I let my sense of inadequacy shut down the tenuous awareness of His presence that I’ve started to have… well, that’s really not what He’s looking for, is it?
So I shut the book and put it on the shelf. I’m sure I’ll revisit it in a few years, but it’s not speaking to where I’m at right now. There’s a lot for me to learn about that ordinary, daily walk with Him – the day in, day out stuff that I, the anxious overachiever, tend to overlook. I have to let God lead me at the pace He’s choosing for me.
So I’m trying to focus on that here-and-now relationship with Him, the kind that mature Christians probably take for granted but that’s brand-new for me. As it turned out, this weekend I had an experience that showed me a little bit what that means.
My town was holding a street fair for local artists, as they do every spring and fall. I really wanted to go, but I’m also conscious that, after my trip to England, I’m a bit “in the red” financially. I knew it would be frustrating to go to the fair and not feel like I could buy anything, though, so I decided to give myself an “allowance” of $40 to spend.
As I walked down the first aisle of booths, I was stopped in my tracks by one set-up. It was a booth for an artist who made tiled murals with abstract flower and leaf images. The murals were simply stunning, with their bold use of color and elegant design. I looked at the price tags. The larger ones were out of the question, at $400 or so, but there was a smaller one that was “only” $150. I thought: I could get this. I do have the money, in my savings account… sure, I’ve had a lot of other expenses lately and I’d resolved to cut back, but… oh, it would look so nice. As I looked at the piece, I wanted to own it, wanted it really badly.
I decided to keep walking around and think about it. As I walked down the next aisle of booths, I hardly saw the art on display, because I was thinking about this mural that I wanted to buy. I visualized it hanging in my kitchen, where it would look fabulous, and ran through different justifications for spending the money. I thought about choosing not to buy it, and felt a pang. I really wanted it!
As I was walking along, I happened to stick my hand in my pocket, and felt the wooden pilgrim’s cross that I’ve started keeping there. On my trip to England, I’d been able to be more aware than usual of God’s presence with me, and when I came back I’d decided to try using this physical token to keep me mindful of Him. Well, it worked. I thought to myself: Hey, maybe I should pray about this purchase?
So I turned it over to Him. “I’d really like this, but I’m not sure about it. Can You give me some guidance here?” It seemed a bit odd to ask for His advice about shopping, but after all, “daily bread” probably includes all sorts of daily purchases, so…
I kept walking around, letting my concern about purchasing the mural slip into the background for God to deal with. A few minutes later, I revisited the question, and… I realized that He’d done something for me. He’d gently taken away the covetousness that had gripped me. I still thought the mural was gorgeous and would look great in my kitchen, but… I didn’t feel compelled to possess it any more, even when I went back to look at it again.
The best part is that, when I realized this, I felt a small but real burden being lifted off me, and my heart grew lighter. It was with a kind of joyful amazement that I realized I didn’t covet it any more!
A little thing, yeah. But it was a very different experience than I’d have had, a couple of years ago, in trying to address the same “should I or shouldn’t I spend the money?” question. It wasn’t that I’d virtuously decided not to spend the money; I could have done that and still been possessed by it, thinking about it and wishing I could have gotten it. No, I had been given the grace to just let it go, joyfully.
In the end, I did buy two bracelets (one of which I’m wearing now), spending in total exactly the $40 that I’d allowed myself. I went home with the sense that I’d made a little step forward in stewardship of my money, and yet also with some beautiful things that I’ve been enjoying without feeling guilty or anxious. And more importantly, I went home realizing that while I may not be very far along the path of developing a prayer life, He’s there to meet me where I’m at.
Related posts:
- Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread
- Starting Fresh Every Day
- The Spiritual Disciplines: Praying the Daily Office
- Experiments with a Lenten Cupboard
- Growing Pains
4 Responses to “Praying Where I’m At”
Dr Holly Ordway came to Christ through reason, in the pursuit of truth. "In your hearts honor Christ as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect" (1 Peter 15).
She writes about her journey from atheism to orthodox Christian faith in her book "Not God's Type: A Rational Academic Finds a Radical Faith" (Moody Publishers).
Nice post, but my complaint is about your grammar. You have a Ph.D. in English and teach composition and you use the phrase “where I’m at”? That is appalling. It might be common use, but it is atrocious grammatically. I pity your students.
Sydney – Thanks for the part before the “…but”! Your grammar observation brings up an interesting point. I’m well aware that “where I’m at” is idiomatic English (what the terms “correct” and “incorrect” mean would lead into a much larger discussion.) This piece is an example of writing for a particular audience and with a particular tone; my formal academic voice would not achieve the effect that I’m looking for here. I imagine that you wouldn’t start a business letter with “Hey, what’s up?” (which is not correct grammar), but you would be comfortable speaking like that, more casually, with family and friends. It’s called code-switching. Actually, the most up-to-date views on language use and pedagogy indicate that it is valuable to recognize and use our different “dialects” or codes; all language learners and writers can and do learn to switch between informal/formal registers, and as writers develop they recognize when different registers/codes/dialects are best used in different circumstances. A writer or speaker who only used a formal register (one of the characteristics of which is an emphasis on prescriptive grammar) would in fact be very limited in communicative ability and nuance. (To allay your worries, yes, I do teach my students the rules of grammar according to standard academic English; I do teach it, however, in the context of what I’ve just said on formal/informal registers.)
All that may be more than you’re interested in, but your comment sparked a bit of a “teaching moment…”, I admit!
That actually leads back into some of the ideas in my post. It’s been a great thing to discover that I don’t have to use the formal register when talking to God.
Holly, I love this post and plan to use it in a class on money management this Sunday (if that is ok with you?) I have to admit that I plan to delete that last preposition – even if it is normal and idiomatic, rather than “wrong” in English. This is a pet peeve of mine and I think it makes the user seem uneducated. My priest is forever saying “That’s where I’m at” over my objections. He says he does it on purpose, I guess to sound “like folks,” but I worry that it make him sound ignorant. So, I will remove the offending word before I print and hand out to the class. I don’t want to give the good father any ammunition!
Linda, in case my email to you didn’t go through – yes, you’re more than welcome to use my essay with your class! (Just please include my name and the web address on your handout). If the idiomatic “where I’m at” really bugs you, you have my permission to retouch it minus the “at”. Personally, I’m with the “good father” on this one, though… hee hee.
Ah well, we all have our pet peeves! (Mine mostly have to do with misplaced apostrophes.)