The empty moments
I have been praying most of my life, and I still have days when I sit down and nothing comes. Not because I do not believe. Because I am tired, or scared, or the thing I am dealing with is too big to fit into a sentence. I open my mouth and there is just quiet.
For a long time I thought that meant I was doing it wrong. Like there was a right way and I had forgotten it. I would try to say something that sounded like a real prayer and it came out hollow, and I would give up and go do the dishes.
Over the years I have collected a handful of short things I say when the words are not there. None of them are fancy. That is the point. I am not an expert on this and I would not trust anyone who said they were. I am just a guy who has run out of words plenty of times and found a few that still work when everything else is gone.
The short ones
The first one is just, help. One word. I say it in the car, in the hallway at work, at two in the morning. I do not explain what I need help with. I figure that part is already known. Help is a complete prayer. It took me years to believe that.
The second is, I am here. I say this when I feel far away, when I have not prayed in a while and I feel a little ashamed about it. I am here. It is a way of showing up without having to explain where I have been.
The third is, thank you, and then I name one thing. Not a list. One. The coffee. My son laughing in the next room. The fact that the car started. Some mornings that one thank you is the whole prayer and I have come to think it is one of the best ones.
The fourth is, I do not know what to say. I say that out loud. It feels strange the first few times, like admitting you forgot your lines. But it is honest, and honest is the only thing that has ever worked for me. I am not trying to impress anyone. I am trying to be real with God, and real includes not knowing.
The fifth is for the hard days. It is, I am scared, and I am going to trust you anyway. I do not always feel the trust part when I say it. I say it as a decision, not a feeling. Like picking hope before breakfast. The feeling catches up sometimes. Sometimes it does not, and the day still goes.
What I stopped doing
I stopped trying to sound like someone else. I used to borrow words that sounded holy and they never fit in my mouth. I talk plain in regular life. I talk plain when I pray now too.
I stopped waiting until I felt ready. Ready never came. I just started talking, badly, in the middle of whatever I was doing. Folding laundry. Sitting in traffic. I figure a short, clumsy prayer on the freeway counts more than a perfect one I never got around to.
And I stopped measuring. Long or short, tidy or messy, with tears or with nothing. I am not keeping score anymore and I do not think anyone else is either.
For the person with no words today
If you are there right now, sitting with a quiet that feels like failure, I want you to know it is not. The quiet is just quiet. Say help. Say I am here. Say one thank you. Say I do not know what to say. Any of those is enough to begin, and beginning is most of it.
Play a Positive Phil game
Hope Hangman
Guess the word. Keep the sun up.
Some of the best conversations I have had with my son were ones where neither of us said much. We just sat there. I think prayer can be like that. You do not have to fill the silence. You just have to be in it, on purpose, and not leave.
You do not need the right words. You just need to show up and say the true ones.
