Enjoyment

There are lots of things I enjoy. Walking in the footsteps of Jesus in the Holy Land. A good book on a summer day, sitting in the shade drinking iced tea and having my feet up. A walk with my wife to talk over the events of the day. The smell of fall. Watching my children in their activities, seeing them grow into fine young people. Star Wars. Star Trek. Marvel superheroes...oh, I could go on and on. Many, many things I enjoy. (By the way, I should mention that the above things are in no particular order...just so I don't get into any more trouble than I deserve!)

What sorts of things do you enjoy? To enjoy something is to find that it warms your heart, that it touches something deep within you, that it brings happiness and a sense of contentment. That's why I struggle with Wesley's ninth question.

Am I enjoying prayer?

There are many things I enjoy. But I can't honestly say I "enjoy" prayer in the same way as I "enjoy" those other things.

Prayer is hard work, at least it always has been to me. Everyone seems to have a different idea about how prayer "works" or what the right pattern is for prayer. And if I could nail prayer down to a certain formula, I probably could find more contentment, even enjoyment at times, in it. But prayer is a conversation, and conversations are always moving, always changing, always ongoing. Paul tells us to "pray without ceasing," and by that I think he means that we're never really done praying. When we say, "Amen," it's more like a "see you later, God" than it is a "okay, we're done here." The conversation continues.

But it's frustrating because my mind wanders. This last week, I've been attempting to practice silence in prayer, just sitting and being still in God's presence. And I try to do that early in the morning, but as soon as I'm awake, my mind is rushing ahead to the events of the day. I've been consciously pushing those thoughts away, and the silence or stillness will return...for a few seconds. It's hard, I think, because I always feel like I want to control the conversation. And my own spirit, my own wants, my own so-called "needs," get in the way. (Is that why some folks seem to only "hear" what they want to hear?) And it's hard because we're not always sure we're getting any response. I don't know about you, but I've never heard an audible voice. I've had whispers in my spirit that I knew, sometimes that moment and sometimes later, were from God. But never a booming, audible voice from the clouds. So we pray, and then wonder if God heard us or is even paying attention.

But God is. We believe that. Prayer is, overall, a huge act of faith. We pray, we believe, and we stay in the conversation. I don't know that prayer will ever be "easy," but I continue to long for that experience Wesley describes as "enjoyment." So I keep praying, and I keep allowing God to change me through my prayers.