Regular prayer is often a struggle. In fact, the Catechism of the Catholic Church refers to it as the “Battle of Prayer” (2725-2745). Some people will admit that habitual prayer is not a part of their daily activities, despite the biblical exhortation to “pray always” (1 Thes 5:17). Whether due to distraction, hectic schedule or simply a preference for something different, I can be guilty of not making prayer a priority.
I believe in God. I realize that He made me and that I will one day return to Him. I attend Mass dutifully, and strive to live a life worthy of being termed a Catholic Christian. Nonetheless, I find it a chore to pray personally and regularly as I should.
I turn to God in personal need and crisis. If someone asks for my prayer, I silently and immediately offer the plea. If I read about a tragedy or pass the aftermath of an accident on the highway, I quickly ask for mercy and comfort. I’m very good about contacting God “on demand.” I don’t always heed God’s invitation though.
Structured prayers are easy: grace before meals, the Our Father during Mass, the Angelus, Rosary or Divine Mercy chaplet, and the requisite number of Glory Be’s after confession. If I read a Bible passage I can meditate on it for a little while. I can faithfully offer a novena, at least for four or five days. If I sit quietly in unaided reflection though, my thoughts always drift in a hurry.
I resolve each year during Lent to prayer more, or pray better. I do, and then I fall back into comfortable ways. I ask for heavenly guidance to improve my prayer life, but I don’t wait too long for a response. I know I should make the effort, but there is always an excuse du jour.
Am I abnormal? I suspect the answer is “no.” If I were alone in grappling to pray, the Catechism likely would have omitted the section noted above. In that I take satisfaction. I also take the realistic view that God hasn’t lost patience with me, although he hasn’t lowered his expectations either.
So, how do I respond?
I start with the realization that I need prayer time; God doesn’t. Then I accept that I have limitations; God doesn’t. I seek a spiritual foundation -- a trusted method of living my faith that comes simply. For me, it’s Marian devotion and regular reception of the sacraments: weekly Mass and monthly confession. With that as a spiritual floor, I strive to build.
We can each set the bar somewhere, knowing it keeps us anchored in faith. From there we climb, never allowing ourselves to fall below that “always” setting. With little exception, even the spiritual masters had to advance in increments.
Here’s a motto to keep in mind (Rom 12:12): “Rejoice in hope. Endure in affliction. Persevere in prayer.”