Prayer and Breathing

Day 3 of writing daily. I decided to use the analytics on this blog to see which post has had the most hits.  Turns out it's one I wrote in 2017 entitled Job One: Prayer.  2017 seems like eons ago, and the confidence and idealism of that post feels like a different person from the one writing this today.  I'm not as resilient as I was then. Maybe it's the effects of aging, or remnants of experiencing the COVID pandemic, or watching the genocide in Gaza and Ukraine, or the upside down nature of our current politics, or just plain old depression.

Honestly one of the hardest practices to sustain through all those years has been prayer.

It's not that I have lost my faith in God.  I've learned that even though there have been moments of wondering if God is real, I had a deeper sense that I didn't need to wonder about that, that God is still with me, being patient with me, even when I had trouble saying much more than "hey."

Over the past several years of trying to keep seeking God, I've found that shorter readings connected with me better.  My go-to morning app has been Everyday Sanctuary.  There's just a sentence or two of scripture, a thought, and a word or phrase for meditation.  Mostly just breathing.

Breathing is always my homework from therapy.  Practice breathing.  This goes well with the words on the wall of my office, "Be still and know that I am God." (Psalm 46:10)

After I wrote that just now, I had to take a break and do some deep breathing with that verse.  Did you?

Maybe this is what Paul was talking about when he told the Thessalonians to "pray continually." (1 Thess. 5:17 CEB)  With every breath, be still and know that God is God.  With every breath, give thanks for life.  With every breath, let go of whatever gets in the way of joy.

To be honest, I was agreeing with myself wholeheartedly until I wrote that sentence about joy.  It feels a little self-delusional.  It's one of my sticking points. People keep telling me to work on finding my joy.  

Ugh.

It's much easier to practice breathing.

After all, breathing is one of those things that just happens anyway.

Maybe someday, joy will be like that for me, too.