Why I Pray

Last night after dinner, James and I were sitting on the couch chatting. Once a thought was nicely tied up and spoken, James paused for a moment and then said "I want something" with a question mark in his voice. "Are you still hungry?" I asked. "I don't think so." "Do you want something to drink?" "I don't know." "Do you want something emotionally?" "I don't know."

"Prayer helps." I said, because I knew exactly how he felt. Probably we all do. A moment of longing for something that you can't identify. An unnamed desire of the heart striking like a gong and silencing everything else for an instant.

I remember feeling this when I was a child. I didn't know if I wanted a hug from my parents or if I was just thirsty. In the end neither parental affection nor a cup of juice would quite suffice. What I wanted was to feel a connection to a source of love deeper even than any person can satisfy.

Maybe you call the source of love God. Maybe you call it human interconnection. Maybe you call it something else or nothing at all. But I think you know the thirsting, hungering, wanting that won't be satisfied any other way.

And that's part of why I pray. To lean in to the longing. To make space for it in my day. Otherwise what many have called the 'God shaped hole' in the soul begins to fester. We try and fill it with a thousand different things that only fall through the gap.

What if instead of papering over that hole, we widened our hearts and made it even bigger? All the more room for love... God's love and yours too. I think prayer can do that. If we work really hard at it. If we don't give up.