To say this has been an unusual year would be an understatement. It has been a year of significant challenges, struggles, and disappointments. Many of us are obligated to get to know our families better by spending every waking moment in their company. It has also been a time of prayer, or at least interior cries of "God, help me!"
Prayer does not come easy to many people. One of the most common comments I hear from readers is their insecurity when it comes to prayer. Many feel that they just do not know how to pray.
I share with them the thought of Saint Teresa of Avila, a doctor of the Church: "Prayer is being on terms of friendship with God, frequently conversing in secret with him who, we know, loves us."
When someone loves us, they expectantly wait for us to reach out to them with trust and love, with whatever words we have. Why would God, who is perfect love, expect any less? The Church's mothers and fathers have repeatedly taught that God desires an intimate relationship with us, not a routine one.
Pope Francis once posed a question to be considered by every Christian: "Do you think of God as someone who loves you?"
Our perception of God, he explained, has a great deal to do with our prayer life.
I often share the story of an old Irish woman living alone in a cottage tucked away in the mountainous crags along Ireland's coast. I like the story so much because it reflects the varying emotions I have from day to day, and the comfort I have in letting God know exactly how I feel.
One day, a visitor made his way to the old woman's cottage and, upon entering, announced he had come to see her because she was alone and in need of company.
"Alone, is it?!" she laughed with delight, "With Himself and his Blessed Mother keeping me company?" She waved a gnarled hand at the pictures that hung over the hearth – the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary.
Later, that same visitor would return to the cottage and find one of the beloved pictures missing from its place of honor. The old woman furrowed her brow, saying, "We are having a tiff, he and I!"
Then she pointed to the drawer where she had stashed her dearest friend, face down no less.
Nevertheless, tiffs come to an end, and this wise, delightful woman, who loved and trusted God with the heart of a child, could most often be heard praying, in joy, anger, and grief, "Sweet Jesus!"
Saint Paul reminds us of the need to "pray without ceasing," which may seem like a dauntless task unless we take a different perspective.
Saint Augustine talks about the disposition of the heart and soul, as compared to the activity of saying prayers, explaining, "If your desire is continual, your prayer is continual."
Still, many people prefer speaking the words of a prayer. I have a collection of prayer books from both the Catholic and Jewish faiths and use them often. Having them handy in times of distress brings me great comfort, allowing me to speak the words I need to say when my brain is too overwhelmed to think of anything else.
We are all uniquely made by God. I am confident that God understands our individual prayer lives and is aware of our deep desire to pray, even if we are not confident in our words.