And You Yourself, Pray in Me

My sister Cathy was reading while sitting on the porch of her home in rural North Florida.  Shaded by large trees, it was a lovely afternoon for her to be outside and relax. Glancing up from her book, she noticed a quiet moaning sound. She thought it might be two trees rustling together, but there wasn’t much of a breeze. Curious, she squinted into the forest to identify the soft sound. 

Cathy was struck with wonder at what she saw. It wasn’t two trees making the sound, instead there in the grassy underbrush was one doe on her haunches, moaning in rhythm with pain as she gave birth.

Cathy grabbed her binoculars and watched in silent awe. The doe gave a few more soft moans before it rose up with straightened legs as her fawn came wiggling out and lay down on the grass. Snuggling close, the doe soon began gently licking her tiny fawn to clean it.  In the days since the birth, Cathy  has caught sweet glimpses of the pair as they forage in her woods. Bright red with white spots, the fawn is still wobbly as it walks, but it’s following mommy just like it should.

At the end of his beautiful prayer, Saint Philaret asks for God to pray inside us.

God praying inside me sounds mysteriously exciting, almost like a birthing story because it seems like the prayers of God praying within me might sort of burst forth with glory. Maybe someday they will, but so often my prayers are more like the very beginnings of labor pains when you’re not feeling quite right. You’re expecting that something good may happen later, but for now you just feel a little ill.

 My personal prayers, the private prayers I say in addition to the glorious prayers in the prayer book, seem monotonous and maybe even sort of pitiful.  In place of Saint Philaret’s wise words, I stumble along saying the Jesus prayer (Lord Jesus Christ have mercy on me a sinner) followed by pleadings for help in various circumstances and for an assortment of people but mostly for myself sprinkled with a generous layer of I’m so sorry I did that again, can You somehow make it all better?

My private prayers may sound like rambling run-on sentences requesting help and repenting of so many things I’ll immediately do again, but those prayers are all rather safe.  Why is the idea of God praying within me so scary?

Is it fear of being known by God when so often that has gone badly with other people?

Is it fear that God will require something of me that I’m not prepared to give if I let Him get to know me?

Maybe it’s a profound sense of unworthiness. 

Praying with psalms helps me with these issues. Reading a psalm as a prayer helps me express what I want to say while having a whisper of feeling like just maybe God is praying through me. The beautiful words of psalms express pleas for help (Psalm 86), the wonder of God knowing me (Psalm 139), and my need for repentance (Psalm 51). Praying with psalms opens me up to be able to add my own prayers without feeling as uncomfortable. They remind me that all of us need God’s help, His mercy, and His patience.

Praying with our own words may make us feel vulnerable and uncertain like a doe laboring alone in the forest, but like the doe, if we persist something beautiful will come. God protects us, He loves us, and He wants to hear us in our own voices. God helps us pray, sending the Holy Spirit to pray within us. The labor of prayer brings forth glorious results whether we see them now or not. 

O Lord, grant me to greet the coming day in peace, help me in all things to rely upon your holy will.
In every hour of the day reveal your will to me.
Bless my dealings with all who surround me.
Teach me to treat all that comes to throughout the day with peace of soul and with firm conviction that your will governs all.
In all my deeds and words, guide my thoughts and feelings.
In unforeseen events, let me not forget that all are sent by you.
Teach me to act firmly and wisely, without embittering and embarrassing others.
Give me strength to bear the fatigue of the coming day with all that it shall bring.
Direct my will, teach me to pray.
And you, yourself, pray in me.
Amen.