on prayer…

… I remember the hardest thing about prayer was actually doing it. In fact, it still is. Growing up prayer was never a routine in my childhood. As a young adult it was never a consideration either. Prayer was foreign and strange.

When I converted, and while I was converting, I continued to struggle with prayer. I didn’t know that sometimes, yes, it will be dry. Yes it will feel like a perfunctory gesture devoid of any heartfelt sentiment. Yes, at times it will even feel like the most arduous chore of the day. I knew nothing of prayer. In fact, still, my basic knowledge of prayer is rudimentary.

I remember the awkwardness of praying. I was embarrassed to pray in public at restaurants before meals. I hated praying in groups. I didn’t want anyone to see that I didn’t know how to pray.

Prayer was something I needed to grow into. Something I needed to practice. When The Boy was born I forced myself to pray with him every day. I wanted prayer to be as natural to him as breathing. My goal was, and still is, to help my son become as comfortable going to God for his needs as he was coming to me.

I’m not a perfect parent by any stretch. There are days when the most pious I get is updating blog. And more often than not it is The Boy who reminds me to pray. I just wanted to encourage parents out there today. Pray with your children not matter how long or crappy your day was and all you want to do is veg out in front of the TV and not think about your annoying co-workers or tyrannical boss. It doesn’t matter that your heart’s not in it. Don’t worry about feeling like a hypocrite. That’s the devil trying to discourage you from praying with your family.

Be encouraged. Pray. For yourself, but mostly for your children. Pray.