In our human relationships when we ‘get closer’ with someone, it can feel genuinely lovely. We begin to feel more trust and more openness to vulnerability and emotionality. We may share more experiences and invest more time in these relationships. Our human psyche is wired for connection and love; we are wired for intimacy because of who our Creator is.
I believe this is also why when we have a growing relationship with God, we desire even more closeness with Him. And also why I think it can really hurt, even feel defeating at times, when it seems like He isn’t returning that closeness. Sometimes, I start to believe the lies that sound like: “God is not listening or speaking to me as a punishment for something because He’s mad me”, or “ He doesn’t have time for me”, or “He is holding out on me”.
Most recently, in this season of new motherhood, I have felt my prayer life do a complete 180. My son was an anomaly at first, sleeping through the night until he was about four months old. During this time, I still got up before him, prayed for an hour like I did before and loved every second of it. Then came the sleep regressions. The teething. The growing out of his bassinet. And all that came to a halt. I could not wake up before my baby. I was in survival mode. I remember crying and missing prayer, missing God, asking Him why I have this desire to be with Him but can’t seem to have the time. If I took an honest look at myself, I did not like who I was without time with God. And yet, I did not even try to open my Bible, I was on my phone more than anything else. I told myself I was too exhausted to pray. I was grumpy and content staying that way because I felt I had every justification to.
Yet my desperation moved me to surrender. There was a certain desperation for Jesus that I have never felt before. I tried praying during nap times. But sometimes my son wouldn’t nap or I had a work deadline to complete. I tried when the day was done, but sometimes I was so exhausted that I fell asleep putting my son to sleep. The promise to wake up before my son even for just ten minutes meant he woke up too.
How am I supposed to pray, contemplate, take time for silence when my days are filled with tears, a little child always needing me and I am never alone? Or even once I nailed a routine, the next developmental leap occurred and I had to pivot…again! It was during a conversation with a wonderful mentor that I was reminded that the love and effort behind my actions matter most, not simply the result.
In ‘Time for God’, Jacques Phillipes says, “without fidelity to mental prayer, our Christian life will soon reach a plateau and stall there”. So I ask myself: are there areas of my Christian life that are diminishing my acts of prayer? Have I frequented the Sacraments? Have I intentionally missed opportunities for prayer by turning on the TV or scrolling through my phone?
If I was totally honest with myself, I was getting too comfortable with habits that did not serve or restore my soul. So, I implemented some concrete changes: using the Hallow app every day for reading the Gospel and listening to reflections as my son Miro played independently in the morning. I left my phone charging upstairs. Having my bible and journal open on the dining table as I fed my son breakfast. Listening to praise and worship in the evening time to calm us both down. I started attending weekly Friday morning Mass. I honestly examined my daily habits: Where am I falling short, choosing worldly comfort over time with Jesus? When I am doom-scrolling or missing the Sacraments?
I have come to believe that every glance toward heaven and toward our Lord is an effort towards prayer, and not a single one of these prayers is lost.
The next step is to carry on; keep going. Persevere.The cliche, “He meets us where we are” is true. Let’s go back to the law of relationship at the beginning. Over the years, my closeness to the Lord has increased, praise God! And so, when He feels distant, I begin to notice it more and crave it. And sometimes, I think this is the point. The Lord knows He is THE way, THE truth, THE life.
There is this scene in ‘The Chosen’, where Peter and Jesus sort of have a scrap on the water. In the episodes before, we see an inner struggle in Peter. Jesus is healing people, saving lives while Peter and his wife are mourning the loss of a child. Peter wonders why Jesus didn’t do anything for his baby, for his wife. Peter was breathing heavily as he uttered the words we all say sometimes, “I have been here the whole time, and you’re healing total strangers!” The scene carries on where Jesus shares that this is to strengthen Peter, test the genuineness of his faith. Peter tries walking on water and starts to sink, Jesus saves him, and they tumble into the boat. Peter, a grown man, collapses onto Jesus’ lap and keeps saying over and over, “Don’t let me go, don’t let me go” with all the disciples looking on.
And Jesus doesn’t let go.
Even as I write this, I feel tears welling up in me. Sometimes that’s the prayer. “Jesus, I don’t know what you’re doing in this season but please don’t let me go”. A desperate plea to just be close. We can’t just white-knuckle our way into Christianity. We can’t just white-knuckle our intimacy with Jesus – what He wants is our surrender.
So, whenever I feel disappointed and stalled in my prayer life, perhaps the question is not am I truly hearing nothing but rather, is my mind too full of other things? My invitation to you is this: First, begin to see your effort as surrender, as part of your spiritual life, not some sort of precursor. Even the saints and disciples had periods of feeling far from God.Second, to take a radically honest look at habits and behaviours with a lot of self-compassion, enough to make you move (as shame does not move us into action, it freezes us). And lastly, just don’t let Him go.
