Learning to Pray

One thing has always been certain for me – God exists.

When I was a little girl, my parents would put me to bed and remind me to say my prayers. I would kneel at the side of my bed and say the standard prays and ask God to bless my mom and dad and all of my pets. I would always smile because I felt God was with me.

As I grew up, I continued to feel God with me. For a time (like a lot of children), I wanted to be a nun so I could spend time with God all of the time. I quickly dismissed this when I talked to a nun at my elementary school and she told me about not being able to marry or keep my long hair (hair was important even at a young age haha). When I was a pre-teen, I started confirmation classes and one night, my dad talked with my class about prayer. He said I could talk to God anytime I wanted and say anything to him. Dad said that prayer was just a conversation and I didn’t have to just the standard prayers. This resonated with me so I started talking with God as if He were sitting right there with me. Every night when I would go to bed, I would lay there and tell him about my day and thank Him for the day and ask Him to allow me to have another day. If I was having a particularly difficult day (as most teens do), I would tell God about it. I didn’t expect Him to fix it or make the problem magically disappear. I just wanted Him to listen and I believed He did.

When I went off to college, things at home got difficult and I started doing things I wasn’t very proud of – getting involved with someone I shouldn’t, be disrespectful to my parents. I guess you could say I was rebelling.  One day, I went to watch my brother practice baseball and my dad was sitting and watching him as well as reading a book. I went to sit with my dad and we went through the normal pleasantries followed by the “you know I don’t agree with you what you are doing with your life” bit.  I was frustrated by this because I felt my parents did not understand me. Before I could even begin to speak, my dad began telling me how much he valued family. He then talked of the Holy Family and how even they probably had their disagreements, but because they were family, they would work it out. He said God was the same way. No matter how far you strayed, God would always be there with open arms and that no matter what, God would always love his children.

Later that night, I remember asking God for help and asking Him to guide me. That was the first real time I actually asked for something from God. Did I expect to wake up and everything to be perfect? No, not really, but I did expect some small miracle. The small miracle never happened.

I went to watch my brother practice again the next week and again spoke to my dad with the same pleasantries followed by the same “I don’t like what you’re doing with your life” bit. I was now seeing this would be a pattern. During that chat, we discussed my school work and work in general. Then, I asked Dad about prayer and he told me that God always answers, but sometimes it takes him longer to answer and sometimes the answer isn’t what I want to hear. I remember Dad likening it to a genie in a bottle wish – the wish is never what you expect and not always what you really want.

I continued to pray the same prayer for months. Things didn’t feel right in my life and I didn’t know how to fix them. I felt like God was right there but just wasn’t quite ready to give me the answer I wanted. That answer would take years a lot of pain to get through, but that is for another post.

I started praying for other things…I prayed for the health and happiness of my family. I prayed for health and happiness for me even though I didn’t really believe I deserved it. Then after all of this and not a lot of action, I went back to my usual conversations with God. It felt right and like I was coming home again and being hugged. It gave me a sense of peace. I began talking to God every day. When I was able to attend morning Mass, I would and then I would sit in the pew and feel the solace that comes from feeling so close to Him. It would be this closeness that would help me survive difficulties that were yet to come and it would be this closeness that would allow me to truly get to know God.

Even today, I talk to God and it makes me feel better and close to Him. I still ask Him to care for my loved ones and keep them happy, healthy and safe. I still thank Him for the gift of the day and ask to please allow me to have another.  I try to be grateful and let Him know I am truly thankful even when I may not show it all the time.  With every conversation, I am learning more about Him and more about me. I guess I am still learning to pray, but I have learned what works and how to feel and be close again. I've opened the door to God again and I don't want to step away. Now if I could just get my behind back in the pew.