The Beauty of Prayer

I have always prayed from when I was a little girl. I've gone to Sunday school though not exactly by choice. I spent my teens attending daily mass, yet again not really by choice, but my fondest memories of prayer as a child, were the few minutes I'd spent every evening with my mother at my bedside. Leaning against her shoulder as she read a story for me from my children's Bible, followed with a recitation of the Our Father and then, best of all, a few moments to speak to God directly. Those moments, with folded hands and tightly shut eyes, would be full of fervent requests and petitions- please help me remember my tables, help me avoid games and so on and so forth. But even in those tender days, I knew in my heart, if I asked, I would receive, for nothing could possibly be beyond God, the creator of everything.

Today, years later, the moments of prayer I cherish the most are when my daughters and I snuggle on the bed every night and the elder one reads a passage from the Bible and the younger one recites the Father's prayer and prays for all our family. Every evening we thank the Lord with truthful hearts for the abundant blessings He has showered upon us and for His guidance into every moment ahead.

The greatest blessing I believe I have personally been granted was having been taught from a very young age that God is with us, a kind and loving God who watches over us every moment of our lives. Who knows our every thought, who sees our every deed, and no matter how bad we are or how sinful, He never stops loving us and all He wishes is we know Him and have faith in Him.

I had been trained to pray at the end of every day and to wake with a prayer of thankfulness every morning. As a child and later in my youth such prayers had been merely ritual but as life moved on from one phase to another, I realised that the one force that remained constantly by my side was my God. He listened to me when no one else did. He stood by me when everyone else brushed me away. He just wouldn't let me fall no matter how often trials and others tried to push me down. He taught me to have faith not just in Him but in myself, because He has absolute unquestioning faith in me.

I don't claim to spend long hours each day in prayer and meditation. I am incapable of such patient continuous focus. But I'm a talker and my regular conversation with God is my way of prayer. Every moment I get free I talk to Him. It could be while I'm cooking or driving. Or praying. I just talk. I tell Him of my day, not that He doesn't know but I still share. I reveal my fears and share my dreams. I tell Him of all my disappointments and hopes, and I thank Him for taking care of me and my family and everyone I love for I know His presence is our greatest shield, the only shield we need.

To me, the greatest beauty of prayer however is that I can also grumble and complain and bicker and squabble at Him and He would just grin and wait patiently till I settled down. He would never take offence. He would never hold a grudge. He would never reciprocate in kind with anger or rage.

At first I would feel horrible every time I took my rage out on my God, and it took me a while to understand that He doesn't mind at all because He knows what my heart truly is. And what a relief it is to let go of every frustration, to let out all that anger, to reveal my insecurities, or to just cry my heart out when depression and stress gets too much for my weak shoulders to bear. And if you can do all that with someone you can trust completely, someone you have total faith in, someone who wouldn't misunderstand you, or hate you or judge you then what more could you possibly want?

Through the Bible He speaks to me. He shows me He hears me when He takes care of my every need, He lets me know He's always there for me when He fills me with His goodness, never allowing me to dwell on the negative. He reveals His presence in my conscience and always lets me know what is right or wrong.

He is my true friend. He is my Father. My Owner. My Guide. And with Him by my side every moment of my life, I am never alone.

My God is my greatest strength. My conversation with Him is my most beautiful prayer.

The fault that is me

I won't deny, I'm not the easiest person to get along with. And those who know me know this well. I would like to believe that over the years I've mellowed down, tempered with the tests and trials of time and life, but once in a while someone would come along, and more often than not it would be someone near and extremely dear, and he would whip away the blinds from eyes and present to me the person that I actually am, and I am left to cower, and bow my head in shame.

I have a set of ideals that I choose to stubbornly adhere to come what may, and woe to him who chooses to see things differently.

Being a Scorpion I then tend to attack not just my attacker but myself in the process yet am numb to the pain I inflict on myself as my focus is only on hurting back the one who had the audacity to hurt me in the first place.

I often wonder why I am the way that I am. I often try to repair myself. Improve my being. And at times I think I manage to be bearable, but then again, a change in circumstances has me right at the start once more.

My temper is vile, my tongue ferocious, my passion uncontrollable.

Some are convinced that they can restrain me, tutor me and straighten me out. Poor souls! I am my own master. I abide by own rules. Therefore I am lonely and sad many a time.

I manage to keep myself within limits by keeping most of myself to myself, therefore I may have very many acquaintances but few friends. I prefer it that way, it helps me protect others from myself. Unfortunately I love with a passion as well, and some fall prey to that apparently sweet side of me and at times I can't help myself and I reciprocate. Only the strong hearted and strong willed have managed to survive with me and by me through the years, the rest have chosen to voluntarily fall off the wagon.

Am I so terribly bad? Maybe I am my own greatest critic.

Do I have anything worthwhile within me? I doubt it but again I am my own greatest critic, but then no one knows me better than myself.

What could possibly be so wrong with me?

Well possessiveness is a trait that won't get you far and I am extremely possessive of all that I love and more over all that love me. To have another receive more favour than me from one who has my favour is beyond my ability to bear. All logic and common sense flees me during such moments.

I have often been told that I have a stubborn chin, and it shows in my nature too. If convinced about  something then it takes quite a bit to convince me otherwise.

Anger comes to me with a roaring passion and then I once more defy logic and give in to the consuming exhaustive fire of wrath.

I get no pleasure in hurting another but I derive less pleasure in being hurt. I know just which buttons to push and which levers to twist to ensure I deliver as much or more pain than I am subjected to.

The ability to use words may be a talent but to use words as a weapon is the worst form of battle and I am a master at that art.

Thus on many a long lonely evening I take a long scathing look at myself and am despised at what I am. And I wonder, would I ever get the chance to make a start anew?

And then I discovered prayer.

Prayer is the only way I manage to tame the wildness within me. Prayer is what helps me keep myself under a tight rein. Prayer is what keeps me going on, wanting to better myself for the better of others.

Through prayer I can rage and cry and yell and scream when life doesn't go the way I demand it too, and I let it all out with the absolute confidence that He who is listening and who is bearing my temper is made of way stronger stuff and has way more patience and love within Him to bear all my nonsense and still hold my hand and wipe my tears and love me more.

Through prayer I can sob and cry and give vent to pain and sorrow and know that He understands and His compassion is for me, His love is mine.

Through prayer I give thanks for the strength to keep trying, the need to keep trying, and joy when my attempts succeed, for I know, I can merely try it is He who pulls and pushes and prods me on till I actually make it.

Through prayer I understand the meaning of love, the goodness of being good and kind, the quality of selflessness and through prayer I strive to please He who never ever lets me down.

He knows me for what I am and yet He still loves me and that tells me, maybe there's hope for me after all.