“What prompts us to seek God, to speak and hope he hears us? Perhaps we think it is the emptiness of our lives without him, that God-shaped vacuum in our souls, our desire for meaning and significance. Okay, yes. But where does our desire for God come from? Are we seeking or responding? Do we start the conversation or does God?” (from Listen: Finding God in the Story of Your Life)
This month, let’s consider the spiritual practice of prayer. Prayer not as ritual but as a means to relationship; as conversation initiated by the Holy Spirit, in which our primary role is to listen.
In her excellent book Soul Feast, Marjorie Thompson writes: “Like the spiritual life itself, prayer is initiated by God. No matter what we think about the origin of our prayers, they are all a response to the hidden workings of the spirit within. God’s desire for us ignites the spark of our desire for God.”
In Listen, I add: “When I feel a desire to pray, it is God’s spirit that stirs up that desire in the first place. Thank about that: God initiates and seeks you out. … God cares enough about me to initiate conversation and relationship. I am the beloved. I am not just the seeker, I am the sought. I am the object of God’s affection. It’s a truth that demands a response.”
Of course, sometimes we say to ourselves “I really should pray,” or “I really ought to pray.” The guilt-inducing “should” and “ought” are dysfunctions. God gives pure desires, the desires of the Spirit—not the shame-based desires. Have you ever spent time with someone who was with you because they thought they “should” be? How fun was that for you? How do you suppose God feels when you are with him only out of obligation?
When I led a spiritual retreat on the topic of listening to God, I received this question from one of the participants: “In your book Listen, you say we should let God call us to pray. We’ve been used to going to God when we’re ready. Explain more.”
Okay, I’ll explain.
It’s really a matter of perspective. God, who knows all and continually searches the earth that he may strongly support those whose hearts are fully his (2 Chronicles 16:9), can stir like a gentle breeze in our souls. When we think we’re about to go to God when we’re ready, it’s really our souls responding to divine whispers and stirrings. We respond in the context of a relationship of trust.
We can see an example of this type of love in the relationships we have with the children we love and lead. A parent or teacher, by being loving and consistent, inspires a child to desire his or her comforting presence; in times of fear or uncertainty—or during times of great joy. The relationship is built on communication and trust, so that the child cannot wait to tell us of some exciting experience or challenging situation.
In the context of this relationship, that child wants to be with this parent, teacher, or caregiver because that person has shown themselves to be trustworthy, loving, and kind.
You are the object of God’s affection. In the context of that relationship, you will develop a desire to run to him.
Sometimes, though, we respond too quickly to the stirrings in our soul, hence misreading them. We feel needy, we feel desire, and we mistakenly feed that desire with food, or drink, or entertainment. But if we were to wait—to pay attention to the longing—we would eventually discover that what we truly hunger for is more of God.
If we think prayer is all our idea, we have made God too small and ourselves too big.
Still, we need not wait around for God to call. If we desire communication with God, we can trust that God put that desire in our hearts. The relationship of love is fertile soil, and our desire for our beloved grows freely there. And we can act on it by boldly approaching the throne of grace.
In his classic book Life of the Beloved, Henri Nouwen wrote that the essence of the spiritual life is “being the Beloved,” that is, realizing the extent of God’s amazing and unconditional love for us, so that it affects not just what we know but who we are.
“What is required is to become the Beloved in the commonplaces of my daily existence and bit by bit, to close the gap that exists between what I know myself to be and the countless specific realities of everyday life,” Nouwen wrote.
“Prayer is where I allow God access to the ‘commonplaces of my daily existence’ and listen to his guidance and advice on those areas. By listening, I transform myself from someone who just has a nice idea that keeps me a little hopeful, to actually embracing my identity as one who is not just loved, but is the beloved.” (read more in Listen)
What is it that makes you want to pray? What do you think of the idea that your desire for prayer is actually initiated by the object of those prayers?
And what could you do to go deeper, to find the hunger for God hidden beneath all your other longings and desires?
Copyright © 2007 Promiseland.
