My earliest understanding of prayer was that in prayer I was to ask something of God: “Heal my headache. Help my friend. Cause us to succeed. Provide for this need.” The evidence that this “worked” was “answered prayer”—whatever I had asked for actually happened in some way.
Then, I came to understand prayer as more of a conversation, in which I could ask questions and listen to God’s response: “What should I do in this situation? Which option should I choose? Who should I share your love with? How should I spend my free time today? What is your calling on my life?” The evidence that this “worked” was a sense of purpose and direction, greater confidence in what I was to do.
In more recent years I am understanding prayer as a space in which I can be with God. “__________________.” Silence. Not many words at all, if any. The evidence that this “works” is… well… hmm…
To be honest, it’s so deeply and intimately beautiful that I find it hard to describe in a single sentence.
I’ve heard it said that the most loving thing we can do for another person is to give them the gift of our presence. Our undivided attention. To simply be with them. Not working on a project, not solving a problem, not dreaming about the future, not engaging in anything tangible or productive—just being.
So it is that we are invited to love God: by bringing our whole self to be present to him.
After all, (as I have also heard it said), he created human beings in his own image, not human doings.
