My Broken Prayer

Everyone has an idea of what prayer should look like and sound like. Even in church, when they say “let’s pray”, you hear some speaking in tongues no matter the prayer point raised. You also hear prayers in several languages and then, you notice the silent ones. Also, the postures of prayer varies. There are some who prefer to walk and pray, others stand at one spot, while others kneel, sit and even some lay prostrate on the floor. I guess it’s an individual preference, mainly influenced by the environment we find ourselves in.

Growing up in a Christian home, I was taught how to pray; how to start and end every prayer, and also times to pray. Then on to a Christian school where prayer was part of the daily schedule. I was taught different prayers for waking up, eating, sleeping, and every other situation. I learnt all the flowery words to approach God and I was enthralled with how all the words rhymed.

I was okay with saying all these prayers until one day; where no words could describe what I wanted to say. All the rehearsed and learnt prayers didn’t capture what I felt and wanted to say. My heart was bursting at the seams with unshared emotions. I didn’t understand myself, so how could anyone understand me? He was supposed to be my best-friend, as told, but why were our conversations sounding like formal speech and not as talks with friends? I got worried, not knowing what to pray.

Then, I realized God was not interested in my flowery words and how poetic they sounded. He wasn’t a literature teacher, putting red circles around all my sentences that had no rhyming scheme. My rough-edges which terrified me didn’t even matter to Him. I didn’t have to hide anything because He wasn’t afraid of the intensity of my frailties. Besides, He, like a patient parent, He already knew what I held back, and was just waiting for me to open-up and tell Him- I had to be real with Him.

I couldn’t remember any of the flowery words to begin with, so I told Him all, just as it was. I winced with every word I said; I was scared of shocking God. But guess what, He listened to every word without blinking an eye. Then He held out His arms to me and just held me as I cried, enfolding me with supernatural peace and warmth. Everything was all right with my world again.

Then for the first time, He spoke to me. His voice was a healing balm for the battered pieces of my soul and His words, a soothing remedy to my broken heart. “You don’t need to hide from Me”, He said. “I’ve been waiting for you to be real with Me. I know you are not perfect, even though I want you to be. While you are working at becoming perfect, I will be here, walking right beside you, and picking you up whenever you are too weary to go on. Nothing you do will ever change the way I feel about you. I love you in spite of you”.
After this, I couldn’t help baring my soul to Him every time. I realized that the words didn’t matter as much as the sincerity behind them.