Pray Without Ceasing

                Earlier this week, I was asked to speak with a little girl who had been offering her daily prayers for a young woman who was suffering from cancer.  It seemed that the young woman was not doing well, and the girl’s parents were concerned that she would lose faith in the power of prayer if the young woman died.  Explaining the benefits of prayer in seemingly hopeless situations is tough enough, but explaining it to a child is even more difficult.  Kids go right to the toughest questions:  “Didn't you say that God is all powerful?”  “Doesn't God love us?”  “Why does God let bad things happen to good people?”  I do my best to answer the questions, (“yes, “absolutely,” and “I don’t know),” but my conversations about prayer always seem to end the same way:  “Keep praying.  Pray without ceasing.”

                Prayer is the elevation of the mind and heart to God.  In prayer we place our deepest longings, our profound gratitude, our darkest fears and our greatest hopes before God, trusting that in his divine providence, “All will be well, and all will be well and every kind of thing shall be well.”[1]  But sometimes all isn't well, or at least it doesn't seem to be.  We don’t always get what we want in prayer, and sometimes we get exactly what we didn't want.  And yet, Saint Paul still tells us to “pray without ceasing.”  (1 Thess. 5:17)  The cynic in me wonders if this advice just increases the odds of getting what I want, but I know better.

                This challenge of prayer is one of perspective.  We may think we know what’s best for us or for others, but we may not.  We’re simply creatures living within our creator’s vast plan to make all well.  From our lowly vantage point, we can’t see the whole plan.  Think of it this way:  when you search for a destination on Google Maps, you get a pin-point location on a zoomed in map.  That’s our perspective.  If you want to know how to get there or what it’s near, you have to zoom out.  That’s God’s perspective.  God sees the whole picture – the whole plan – and knows the best way to get to the final destination.  God’s in the driver’s seat.  We have to sit back and trust that God loves us; that he always wants what's best for us. 

                If it’s all in God’s hands, why bother praying?  Well, prayer is an act of love.  Saint Paul might just as well have said, “Love without ceasing.”  Praying to God is loving God.  Praying for others is loving our neighbors.  Loving our neighbors is wanting what’s best for them, even when it may not be what we want or what we think is best for them.  Every time we pray for people, God receives our prayer as a selfless act of love.  Sometimes the specific words of our petitions may not fit perfectly into God’s plan, but God receives each prayer as a building block in his Kingdom of Love.  And the opportunity to live in the peace, and the happiness and the love of God’s Kingdom is the best outcome we could ever pray for.

                A little while ago, I learned that the young woman I mentioned at the beginning of this post has died.  I had been praying for her recovery.  On the surface, I didn't get what I prayed for.  Part of me wants to pack up my beads and leave the pray-ground.  But I know deep down that I really wanted something more for her:  I wanted whatever was best for her, from God’s perspective.  And because I truly believe that all is well, that that young woman now lives perfectly happy and healthy in the peace of God’s loving embrace, I know that my prayer was answered.  So I’ll keep on praying.  I’ll pray for that young woman’s family and friends; I’ll pray for my wife, my daughters, my family and friends; I’ll pray for my aunt and my friends who have cancer; I’ll pray for all who are hurting; I’ll pray for my friends’ new baby boy; I’ll pray for life; I’ll pray for peace.  I’ll pray without ceasing.

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[1] Julian of Norwich, The Showings.