Let my prayer come before you, Lord.

Prayer is not an analgesic designed to protect us from life. It is, more times than not, part of the problem of life. One day, we don’t feel like praying. The next day, we pray but it doesn’t make any difference: things do not turn out the way we want them. We try to pray, but we’re far too distracted by the issues at hand than we are soothed by the quiet or comforted by a sense of the presence of God.
Then, one day we admit to ourselves the truth of the dampening of the spirit: We haven’t had a sense of the presence of God for a long time now—years. I’m not changing, my world is not changing, nothing seems different from the days when I didn’t pray at all.
So, is it over? Was it ever really real? Only one thing remains. I do know now that there is something else in life that is more than life on the level of the daily. When I reach that point in my prayer life, there is one thing missing in my understanding of prayer, one thing I am learning but may still not believe: Just because I do not feel God’s presence does not mean that God is absent. The challenge is to learn to trust darkness as well as light.
Whenever I feel lost, I am being brought to remember that God knows exactly where I am. When I feel abandoned, I am challenged to remember that God is energy, not solace. When I demand proof of the Spirit, I am being taught, like Mary Magdalene at the tomb, not to cling to presence but to take that presence to others (John 20:17-18). When all those things happen, I have finally learned to pray.

Sr. Joan Chittister, adapted from The Breath of the Soul

Joan Chittister, OSB, is a leading voice in spirituality.