Prayer at a Difficult Time
In some ways, times of great joy are incredibly difficult for prayer. We are so busy rejoicing, planning, and looking ahead that we forget to give proper thanks to God. Yesterday when I was standing at the lines in the polls, I prayed the joyful mysteries of the Rosary. I don't necessarily follow the cycle of the days, and it seemed that since what was heavy on my heart was the question of children (unborn) and the need to protect these most innocent and most vulnerable of all, it seemed the joyful mysteries, focusing on Mother Mary and children as it does, were good for line-standing. I suspect many prayers were raised and God has given us a brief time of favor. More than that something else occurred in another aspect of my life that was nearly miraculous--long awaited, half-hoped for, half despaired of. Out of the blue it struck and I spent the day asking everyone I saw whether it was indeed true, whether I would return only to find that it was an elaborate and complicated joke. It was not.
Now, I need to balance this unbelief with the acknowledgment of the miracle, and I need not to exult in the event, but exult in the evidence of God's hand. More than any of this, my friend, a confirmed agnostic admitted to me that as a result of this event he actually said a prayer and may be beginning to think about eternal things. (Please pray for him.)
Prayer is so much more difficult in joy. It mustn't be gloating, it mustn't be exultation at another's failing or downfall. It mustn't be full of oneself. All prayer must push aside these material things. It must detach from the glorious gifts we have been given, and it must recenter around pure love of God. We must focus not on what has happened, but on what we are called to today. I know that I need to listen around the braying, cawing, the mourning, and spinning, and try once again to hear God rather than the innumerable pundits and commentators. God has the victory and we are His good people. We must now take our places in His loving plan.
