I've Forgotten How to Pray

I just couldn't do it. I couldn't believe how difficult it was to give God ten minutes. I gripped the coffee in my hands and stared out onto the quiet mist-covered pastures. Even the fog seemed to close in on me, reminding me that I was supposed to be concentrating on Him, not letting my mind wander to the day ahead and how good the sweet warm coffee felt on my scratchy throat. 

The fog began to melt off. I could feel time leak away. How long had I been outside holding a teacup? I regretted not bringing my phone out with me so I could keep track of time. 

What time? God's time? Wasn't He welcome to all my time? Why wasn't my heart cooperating? Why wasn't my mind relaxing? This was supposed to be a good investment of meaningful prayer time, not moments fretted away as I stomped around my front yard worried about getting dew-soaked pajama pants. 

I've forgotten how to do this.

Once upon a time there was a young woman who could spend hours outdoors talking to her God and contemplating life with Him. But not anymore. My mind and heart are pretty crowded places these days and the noise isn't outside, it is inside me. 

I looked at the house and saw the sun begin to glint off the windows. It really was time to go in. Time to prep breakfast and convince Adela to eat a bowl of cereal. It was time to kiss Micaela's tiny feet as I pried off her sweaty braces from a night of encased sleep. 

So I did. I left my attempted seclusion and went back to life. 

When life slowed down enough for me to find some answers I dove into my bible and a few google searches. My big question was, "How to pray?" Not just how to talk to God, but how to connect with Him. How to quiet your mind and still your heart so you can meet with him and blissfully spend time with Him. 

Answer: Practice.

Practice. Practice. Practice.

There is a reason I've forgotten how to do this--I don't do this anymore. I practice faith daily. Hope sustains me. Love is what keeps me moving. But prayer...yeah, I need to practice. My popcorn prayers of tiny wishes zapped off to God in the heat of the moment isn't giving me the peace that my soul craves. And that soul is good at letting us know when things are out of balance. 

So practice. Apparently spending one morning outdoors stomping around in the fog is not going to fix my prayer life. But I'm a determined soul. 

And, I'm going to learn how to pray.