stillness as an opportunity for prayer
The warmth of the sun on a crisp fall afternoon stirs my soul. It’s my favorite time of day, when chores are done and there is a long break before dinner. I often sit on the porch with a book in my lap, but I rarely get around to any reading. I close my eyes from the glare on the page, and I feel myself relaxing into a waking dream-state.
In those moments, I find myself in the thin place, that state where the line between heaven and earth dissolves, and I feel God’s presence in the quiet and stillness. It doesn’t last very long, as a dog barking or a siren in the distance brings me back to the present, but the peace remains.
I Struggle to Show Up in Prayer
I’ve struggled lately with finding a time to pray. Oh, I have plenty of time. My work is flexible and my obligations few. So why is this such a difficult thing? I think my need for prayer and the practice of it, has suffered in this season of my life. When my family was young and our schedules were busy with activities, I had a robust prayer life. It seems the busier I got, the more I needed prayer.
St. Francis de Sales is often credited with saying that we should pray especially in the busyness of life. I’m no longer running late while trying to get young children out of the house and on the school bus. I’m not fighting traffic to get to work on time. I’m not scrambling to get dinner together after forgetting to take out the roast in the morning.
Making the Time for a Conversation with God
In the midst of the demands of raising a family, I made the time to pray. Now, I put off prayer to focus on the distractions. I think that I will have time later to dedicate myself to a Rosary or spiritual reading, but I rarely get to it, allowing the next distraction to occupy my time.
Maybe that’s the crux of my problem—when life slows down, I find myself in a place where the need for prayer feels less urgent. Prayer is not something reserved for moments of crisis or busyness; it is the quiet conversation with God that sustains us in all seasons.
Therefore, when you make ready to pray, you must say with your whole heart, “God is indeed here.”― Francis de Sales, Introduction to the Devout Life.
Today, my life presents me with the opportunity to pray for others, especially my loved ones. I have found praying through my vocation to be helpful. I pray for my husband, my children, and my grandchildren. I pray for my mother, the repose of my father’s soul, my siblings, nieces and nephews, and my aunts and uncles and cousins. I pray for my dear friends. More often than not, it is a spontaneous “God bless my dear one,” whenever I think of someone. It’s not elegant nor eloquent, but it is intimate and special.
Sitting on my porch, bathed in the warmth of the afternoon sun, I’m reminded that prayer doesn’t have to be rigid or scheduled. It can be as simple as a sigh, a thought, or a moment of gratitude. In these still moments, I realize that God is always waiting, gently calling me to Him. It is an opening for praise and thanksgiving.
I used to think that prayer was something I had to make time for, but now I see that it’s something that permeates all time. It’s in the pauses between thoughts, in the fleeting peace of a quiet afternoon, and in the thin places where heaven and earth meet. All I need to do is show up.
