The Last Time I Prayed

One of my favorite quotes actually comes from the movie Anne of Green Gables. Anne is forced to memorize a prayer, a “punishment” for acting like a "heathen." She feels that memorizing a prayer is inadequate. She claims that if she truly wanted to pray, she would go into a meadow and just feel a prayer.

I don’t know the last time I prayed using words. When I do pray, it is not a recitation. I do not have any prayers memorized. I respect that many religions and various denominations believe in repeating poetic words of praise and exaltation.

But, my soul does not speak in words, especially someone else's.

I know I prayed a year ago. The time was a difficult one, and I spent many nights having long conversations with God. Maybe they were monologues. I have no evidence that anyone was listening. We always say that God answers your prayers—sometimes the answer is “no.” Perhaps.

I have had prayers come true. Not the prayers you might expect.

In a different forum, I would tell you more specifically about which prayers they were. Suffice to say, the answer resulted in a situation that many people in my life could not understand. But, I prayed hard about the issues, and at that time, I received what seemed to be otherwise impossible. And, yes, impossible is probably exactly the word for it. The answer seemed to be “yes.” For a good part of three years, I had to struggle with the emotional turmoil of that particular answered prayer.

I do not know who probably said the words first. Perhaps it was Truman Capote; it is he who is most associated with the words these days. They were the epigraph of his unfinished novel.

He said, “More tears are shed over answered prayers than unanswered ones.”

I can attest to such a claim.

But, did I experience an answer to a prayer? Or, was it a “test”? We have all learned that we face tests and challenges. The story of Job is familiar to many. I don’t know if it was a test. If so, I suppose I completely failed it, and I am still failing it.

It seems to me, though, that the learning curve might be higher without the murkiness. Was I tempted? Was I tested? I thought it was an answered prayer. Something about the last idea gives me more comfort, that maybe God is paying attention and gave me a "yes" answer knowing that it would not be an easy path to walk, and that he truly does know and care more about this particular child than those people who wear designer clothes on Sunday mornings and pronounce their judgments on everyone who is already marginalized by society. I know how bitter it sounds.

I still pray these days. Most of the time, I don’t bother with words. They feel too inadequate. I have to say that words can seem a little ridiculous if I am speaking to an omniscient being who already knows my future. And, words can turn into rants.

Words are too simplistic for the complexity I feel, especially when approaching the ear of a deity who understands the fabric of my soul better than I will ever be able to comprehend.

How do you know if your prayer was even heard?

I wonder how many of mine are still floating in the corners of my ceiling, caught in the cobwebs.

I’ve never liked group prayers, not particularly. I always think that I will pray on my own, thank you. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with giving praise or thanks in groups. But, prayer, to me, feels like it should be more than showing you can speak an archaic form of English (“thee,” “thou,” “thine”). This was something I admit I always found so curious. If that’s how a person feels closer to God, then I cannot judge. I just think that prayers are best spoken in private.

Maybe I pray most when I want something. I know that I do that. I also pray most when I am having regrets and a mistake seems hard to erase. Maybe these prayers are just an exercise in wrestling with my own conscience and demons.

The story of Jacob wrestling God is one of the most fascinating in the Bible. All night long, Jacob wrestles an anonymous man. Finally, at day break, when the man sees he can’t win, he touches the “socket of [Jacob’s] thigh.” Of course, it’s a sure win, then. This is when Jacob is given the name Israel. It says that his name was changed because he had “striven” with God and man and prevailed. Jacob names the spot in honor of the fact that he saw God face to face and still lived.

It’s one of those interesting moments in the Bible. Why did Jacob just start wrestling some random guy? Did Jacob wonder if he was dreaming? Was it violent grappling, or more for sport? The Bible does not say.

Did Jacob know it was a test?

I have wrestled a lot in my prayers—I’m not always sure who.

But, in the middle of a quiet night, maybe out of habit, maybe out of conscience, maybe out of need, I still take a moment to rise, fall to my knees, and give voice to the deepest parts of heart. Maybe, for that sake alone, I will never stop praying.

Amen.