Pondering prayer

On Sunday night we talked about prayer in church with other people. It was wonderful and strange to be to be physically present with people again. It was good to take a look back at what prayer has meant in my life. I’m not sure I have any kind of coherent narrative to offer about prayer. Prayer is possibly one of those things that can’t be packaged neatly, won’t be put in a box or managed by our efforts. At most basic I think it’s the word that reflects our interaction with our Maker, the Divine, God in all their three personed wonder. As such it can’t be easily contained into words and ideas. It is too broad for that.  So I wrote down what first sprung to mind when I thought about prayer.

Here you go:


Eternal frustration.
The nearness of breath.
The gasp of delight
at the abundance of Yew trees
on the path ahead.

Talking, crying, looking in.
Awe struck on mountain top.
Bleak empty silence down
on the valley floor.

Desperate cries in the night
All my need, desire, aching want
held out to


Surprising, breaking in, bringing hope,
The light shaft through the clouds
The thread holding me here
The warm blanket on a cold night
The washing waves
at sunrise
on a deserted shore.

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