St. Teresa of Avila described prayer as “a glance towards heaven.” I think for much of my consecrated life I have lived my prayer more as a glance–or frequent glances–at my watch. “Did I make it on time? How much longer does this have to last?” etc, etc.
For the past year, however, I have begun to see my prayer very differently. It started back in February when I, along with a few others, began to pray for an hour long morning meditation instead of doing a half hour in the morning and half hour in the afternoon. It was hard to get up earlier, but I think the love that dragged me out of bed in the darkest hours made the prayer time that much more cherished, because it was something I really wanted!
Though the change came gently, those hour meditations turned my life around. Suddenly I felt my heart had the space to pray that for months I had been gasping for. No more rushing through my drill of acts of faith, hope and love to dive into meditation points one, two and three. Silence. Stillness. I think my heart just needed that extra time to unfold in all the serenity with which a tight bud becomes a blooming flower. The content of my prayer wasn’t dramatic, but it was powerful. It was a being still with God, a peaceful resting in his presence, a delighted basking in his joy over me, a gaze from Heart to heart. For me, at the point I am at, these hour meditations have been vital to my spiritual life.
Instead of me seeking to invent resolutions to apply my prayer to daily life, God was the one surprising me in the middle of the mundane! After an almost boring 60 minutes of morning meditation, just being quiet with God, He could catch me off guard in just 60 seconds! I remember this happening one day when I knelt down right in front of a tiny tabernacle, starting to prattle about how my day had been, when suddenly I GOT that God was in front of me. I was speechless and open-mouthed; my knees slid from the kneeler to the bare floor. “My Lord and my God! That’s really you. Wow!”
Another time I was talking to one of my companions and as I listened I tried to look her in the eyes, imagining she were Jesus. But as I looked I realized that there was no “imagine if” element at play here. Jesus was really there, shining forth from this person who reflected His image and likeness. Wow! How beautiful and exciting life is when I let Jesus lead!
Prior to the renewal of our statutes, all consecrated women prayed half an hour of morning meditation, and half an hour of evening prayer. The first change came when consecrated in the apostolate could choose to combine these two prayer times into one hour. A few of us felt inspired and, with permission, started the hour of prayer on our own. Since summer, hour meditations have been an option for everyone in initial formation.
I think having more space to choose how we pray is so precious, because prayer is born of love, and love flows from freedom. My heart swells almost to bursting some mornings, when, from my kneeler by the organ in our choir loft, I look down over my consecrated sisters filling the chapel below. Once upon a time we all sat in neat rows after receiving communion. Now it’s not unusual to see several people kneeling, thanking God that he has just given Himself to them, as their hearts bid them do.
How blest we are to have such a good God as the one who has given his life for us! How blessed to partake in the freedom and joy, life and love which he won for us on the cross. How blest I feel I am to be part of Regnum Christi now, as we try to follow the inner promptings of the Spirit, docile to where God is leading us. In the end, He draws us to Himself, wishing that where He is we may also be. Union. Utter union of Lover and Beloved. This is what prayer is really all about.
