When walking through the grief journey, how many of us have heard, “We’re praying for you?” How many times have we said this to others? I know I’ve probably said it thousands of times. But really, when we say we’re praying for someone, what do we do? Do we have to quote scripture? Do we have to get on our knees? Do we have to be in a church for God to hear us? For me, I’ve always believed that prayer is nothing more than talking to God, anywhere, anytime … after all, He is the knower of my everything.
There isn’t anything that happens in our lives that He isn’t aware of, but even when we are doing our best to walk by faith it can be challenging sometimes. Yes, faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen, but even as I walk in the strength of my faith, there have been times when I’ve wondered if He’s heard me.
Not long ago, I came across something that Melissa Neeb shared from Faith in the Mess. I was touched by the simplicity of her approach to her “Friend.” I loved when she shared: “You SEE me. You GET me.” Oh, how we all need to be seen and understood.
Grief can often be such a lonely place, but we truly are never alone. If you’ve been on the struggle bus, wondering if God sees you, hears you, or if you’re approaching him in the right way, continue reading. I believe you will be encouraged and uplifted. Wishing you a beautiful and peaceful day!
I never understood prayer.
It seemed so obligatory. Formal. Contrived.
The “Our Father’s. Fingers neatly and politely intertwined. Eyes low. Neck curled downward.
Standing. Kneeling. Mind wandering.
Listing requests, people’s names, and proper terms for God.
So serious. So reverent.
So BORING.
I rarely ever pray that way now.
Instead, I talk to God in my head.
He has a sense of humor, you know.
I hear him laughing when my mind takes 17 loopy loops and I forget altogether that I’m praying.
He is much more gentle with me than I ever gave him credit for.
He is so INFORMAL. He loves me wildly and easily.
He knows my imperfections and dark shadows and he sees me stumble and gosh, he doesn’t care about any of that. He just wants my willing, wide-open, crazy-for-him-and-his-creation heart.
I just talk to my Friend all day. It wouldn’t make sense to anyone but us.
It’s inside jokes and impossible grace and sweet tenderness that makes me weep.
It’s him. The Knower of my everything.
It’s me. My radiant, glorious humanness.
It’s us. An ongoing, effortless, no-subject-off-limit,
“You SEE me, you GET me,” always spontaneous, transparent conversation.
That is prayer to me.
(No formality required.)
Shared with permission from Faith in the Mess by Melissa Neeb
