Praying Out Loud

I hate praying aloud.

Hate it.

Even blessing the food at a meal.

Please don't ask me.

I will do anything I can to avoid it.

Years ago, when I was in the twelfth grade,  my young life leader caught wind of just how much I hated praying aloud.  (Actually, at the time, I would have used the word "hate" for prayer in general.)  She, being wiser than I'd care to admit at times, forced the issue.  I no longer had a choice.  She could control me with her eyes.  If we were in a small group setting, and praying aloud was optional for everyone else, she'd tell me with her eyes (and sometimes with her words) that it was not an option for me.  If we were sharing a meal together, guess whose job it was to bless the food?

It's been a decade since that year I spent being forced into prayer by a loving friend.  These days prayer, the silent kind anyway, is as natural as breathing, and one of the things God has consistently asked of me and gifted me for. 

But I still hate praying aloud.

I've been thinking of it more often lately, that perhaps it's a discipline I need to cultivate again.

But I hadn't really felt any great drive or conviction until last week.

Last week I met with a long-time friend of mine who is the pentecostal chaplain at the university that I'm attending.  We spent an hour or so catching up, and, as I looked at my watch and realized that I needed to head off to class, he closed our time together by praying for me.

I walked away from that time refreshed.  It's not often these days that I am prayed for in person, and I had forgotten how encouraging it can be simply to hear someone lift me before the Father.  And as I walked away, I began to tell God how thankful I was for that time, for that needed encouragement.

And as I told him that, I felt God reminding me that perhaps I should be more willing to offer that encouragement and blessing to others.

I haven't figured out what that looks like, yet.  I'm not often in settings where prayer aloud would be appropriate.  Perhaps, in my case, it looks like asking one or two of my far away friends if we can close our phone conversations and skype dates by praying together, for each other.

In any case, I feel that strong internal nudging, that reminder to be willing, and so I'm seeking to be obedient to that, and aware of opportunities to life others before the Father, in their hearing.

Daily 5 - Day 52

Image by .tess via Flickr

Today's daily 5 (and this lovely autumn photo I came across, just because it was lovely and reflective and felt "right" for today's list):

1. Sitting curled up in bed for much of the evening, with candles lit around my bedroom, thinking and resting, writing and praying
2. The first "decadent self-care" night in a long while - watching "America's Next Top Model" on the internet while laying in a hot bath with a clay mask on my face. I haven't had a decadent self-care Friday night since probably May.
3. A coworker today who took time to really listen, and then stopped, when I mentioned that I was questioning myself, my right to feel strongly about this, looked at me and used my name (always arresting somehow) and told me very firmly that if I felt passionately about the issue it was okay. It was okay to have an opinion, even if no one agreed, because it was my opinion. It was oddly empowering to have someone say out loud the things I was mentally telling myself.
4. Lunch out with another coworker - where we didn't talk about the tensions of the office, or all the glaring inconsistencies that have become clear again this week. We talked about life and cooking and family and vacations. (And I had enough left-overs to cover supper as well!)
5. Realizing that there are still things (however confusing) that raise incredibly passionate responses within my spirit. There have been moments when I wasn't sure that that would ever happen again, after feeling dead for so much of the last couple years. As confusing as this day was, and continues to be, I'm grateful for passion stirring within me.