Sunday, October 30, 2011

Prayer | My One Wild Word


I have been practicing a way of prayer I learned from Jan Richardson's book In the Sanctuary of Women. She calls it One Wild Word. She asks God for one word that comes from her deepest of longings when she can't' seem to find the words to pray.

I tried it on a work day last week and searched for my deepest longing to pray from throughout the day. I came up with "Forward." But I realize now it was a word that came from my personal addiction to productivity. I tried to justify that prayer by telling myself, "I want to move forward in my walk with God." It's a silly prayer really because it's not like we can move backwards ever, even when it seems like it. We're always, always moving forward in some way. Learning, experiencing, trying again. I lost track of that "Forward" prayer anyway as I got busy with my tasks and responsibilities.

So yesterday I stopped searching for my word and just asked for it. Communion. It seemed so simple but it brought tears to my eyes because it's what I long for in every way. Communion with God, first and foremost. Communion with my husband, my sons. Communion with my friends and coworkers and with the people I communicate with through my work. It's what I long for other people as well...that they experience community in some amazing way. It's what brings joy and fulfillment and what sharpens us and changes us.

The more I realized what this word meant to me the more I was able to pray it fervently and honestly. And I remembered it. It was what came to my mind every time I started to feel something throughout the day. I felt hurt by something Shane said. Communion. I felt regret for words I said. Communion. I felt embarrassed by my childish tendencies. Communion. I felt joy for my sister's new start in a new home. Communion. I felt a desire for a home of our own someday. Communion. I felt affection and pride for my adorable little boys. Communion. I felt excitement for seeing friends we haven't seen in months. Communion. I enjoyed hot cider and a fire on a chilly night. Communion. I felt relief when laughter healed wounds. Communion.

It was a word-companion throughout the day, and the Holy Spirit knew every meaning and desire behind that word. It was a new day for me because I experienced the discipline of prayer not as a discipline really at all. It was so natural and fulfilling as I experienced each segment of the day to its fullest. It was of way of drawing near to God that wasn't hard for me. I felt like a child on God's knee throwing fits, feeling confused, being safe, glad and thankful. It was not always happy, but I wasn't alone.

When you wake up, ask God for one word to carry through your day. And when you sense a change in the moment of any kind, good or bad, say a prayer with that word. See what it teaches you and how it centers you.

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Penny Said It For Me

"I’ve got two [kids], which means I can’t spend days in a cave or hours on my knees. Something about the mental and physical exhaustion of child-rearing makes even the leanest spiritual practice a near impossibility. The proffered solutions are laughable, even ridiculous. Get up earlier to read the Bible. Seriously? Is that a joke? Find space in the small moments of each day? I might feel guilty about it sometimes, but I’d rather wrangle some control over my house and my self lest I turn into the baby food-wearing, greasy-haired, haggard mommy I am but a few small steps ahead of becoming.


I often think there must be something wrong with me, because drinking coffee and brushing my teeth usually takes precedent over reading the Bible.  I berate myself, saying that if I really cared about my spiritual life I would make the necessary sacrifices. I had almost convinced myself of this when a friend suggested Bonnie Miller-McLemore’s book, In the Midst of Chaos: Caring for Children as Spiritual Practice. Miller-McLemore* rejects the notion you must say goodbye to a vibrant spiritual life when you become a parent. She challenges us to get rid of the belief that the sacred is found only in certain rituals, practices, and places, noting that Protestants have forgotten about the sanctification of the ordinary."    - Penny Carothers, from a post on Donald Miller's blog