The How and Why of It

Sometimes I pray to keep my mind from distractions. Sometimes I pray to save myself from despairing. I pray in times of distress, during times of heartbreak, and on days when my world seems slightly too grey. Most of the time I pray when there is a need, either my own or at the request of another. Occasionally, I pray because there is nothing else I'd rather do. I pray most comfortably with my face to the ground. I've prayed in silence. I've prayed to break silence. I pray less often and often less fervently when life seems to be going my way. The opposite is usually true when the opposite is true. I've done it with fervor and zeal. I've done it out of thanksgiving and in joy. I've done it with tears. I've done it half-heartedly. I've done it selfishly. I've done it all wrong. I've done it, and I'm doing it. For a number of reasons, in a variety of moods, under various circumstances - I pray. I pray and, although I can't see it with my eyes, I know it must make a difference.

the age of accountability

Sometimes periods of silence in my life are providentially placed and uniquely fruitful, but most of the time potential for good is overwhelmed by inarticulate, largely useless, and often destructive thoughts. (That's mostly why working at the bakery was not a healthy time of my life.) Last Sunday, as I made the long, lonely drive home from church, happened to be one such time as the former. In the silence, I began to notice the brilliant colors of the changing leaves on the trees, and then the sky, and then all the world around me. It seemed as if it had been the first time that I had been awake to the world in a long time. And then it suddenly dawned on me that that is no one's fault but my own. I realized that it has long since been the age of accountability and there is no one responsible for me but me. I haven't been parented for a long time, but I've only just realized that that means something. My mistakes are not my parents fault anymore. Who I am and what I do are my responsibility.
And so I resolved to be more intentional about my life. I resolved to be intentional about how I spend my time and money and with whom. In my job search, I would be intentional about finding something meaningful. I would ensure that I had times of silence, I would read spiritual books, and be more consistent in my journaling. Because no one can make me do it but me. And so newly resolute, I set my alarm clock back so that I could get up in the morning with plenty of time to pray and went to bed--and even a little earlier than usual.
I woke up the next morning and my resolve went the way of the snooze button until it was too late to have a meaningful morning.
It's the same old story. Just a different colored lens through which to see it.
God have mercy.

Day 17

I'm experiencing a mild case of writer's block. The thoughts are there, but I just can't translate them into words at the moment. So, for now, I will just quote an excerpt from the Paraklesis that has been especially meaningful to me. May God fill your hearts with peace and joy today!

Ode 5. The Heirmos.

Lord, enlighten us,
With Your precepts that can guide our lives,
And with Your arm most powerful
Grant to us Your peace,
O You Who are the Friend of all.

Most Holy Theotokos, save us.

Pure one, fill my heart
with a merriment, a happiness;
Bestow on me your spotless joy,
For you have given birth
to Him Who is the cause of joy.

Most Holy Theotokos, save us.

p.s. Day 17- I'm beginning to feel the joy creeping in.

Day 9

In my earliest years of being Orthodox, when I went off to college "with holy chrism still dripping from [my] forehead", whenever someone brought up some distinctly Protestant doctrine, I would roll my eyes and debate with them the Orthodox way of thinking about it. It often lead to very heated discussions. I Bible thumped the Bible thumpers.

Fortunately I've moved away from that somewhat and have realized the importance of Christ over the importance of Orthodoxy. Or at least I thought I had. Last night I got roped in to coming to my roommates' Bible study. (I had eaten their food and it seemed bad manners to peace out when they started opening their Bibles. Plus it was a great opportunity to test run my newly acquired (from Alana) Orthodox Study Bible New AND OLD Testament.) I managed to listen to what they were talking about and ignore the cynical, though funny, comments running through my head and everything was fine--up until it was prayer request time.

I couldn't figure out what stuck me as so uncomfortable about taking prayer requests. And when I tried sincerely to think of something to share, all I could come up with were either old prayer requests I remembered sharing in high school about my grandmother dying and my thumb being cut, or prayers for repentance. Neither seemed appropriate.

When I got back to my room and checked my email, I found a message from Alana with prayer requests from several of my favorite people and I was forced to reconcile the two. They say that praying for others is like spiritual alms giving. And being able to pray for these people made me feel close to them when we all live far apart. I guess praying for people is just another way of loving them. So, why not.

"Simon! Are you asleep?"

Day 4 (10/04/08)

We are all familiar with Bible story where Jesus goes off on His own to pray and returns to find his disciples sleeping...twice! He urges them both times to watch and pray. In fact, he very blatantly addresses Peter saying, "...Could you not watch one hour? Watch and pray, lest you enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak," (Mark 14:37-38, NKJV). I guess it's easy for me to imagine myself in that situation - caught in the act, a rush of embarrassment, the feeling of failure, yet so, so tired and barely able to open my eyes.

Fast-forward to the present age of comfy couches, portable devices, and a plethora of unnecessary stimuli. After spending my Saturday playing imaginary slumber party with two great kids, having dinner with their parents, and enjoying dessert with some other friends, I was pretty wiped. Once I got back home, the list of things to do before calling it a night was pretty short: feed Winston, respond to an e-mail, get ready for bed, and pray the Paraklesis. I whipped through the first three tasks but decided to put off the Paraklesis until I knew it would be the very last thing I did that night. I had completed the things I needed to do, and it was only 10:30pm. So, why not peruse Facebook and read a few more articles online? Bad idea. An hour and a half later I was laying on the couch fighting to keep myself awake. It was now midnight and I hadn't started my last item of business. The thought of skipping my prayers didn't really cross my mind - my spirit was indeed willing. However, I was very comfortable laying on the couch (my bed for the evening) with my laptop and a nice blanket and didn't feel much like moving. Then it occurred to me that I could just quickly log onto this blog, click the link to the Paraklesis, and conveniently pray from the comfort of my living room. Another bad idea (on so many levels). Needless to say, I was asleep in less than twenty minutes.

That sums up Day 4 for me. We're not even a quarter of the way through our experiment, but the flesh is proving to be mighty weak already. But, I'm not discouraged. Rather, I'd like to reiterate what Trisha told me on Day 5, "...it's been hard to be consistent, but that hasn't affected [our] determination."

here's to Fr. Michael

Day 3
A little old lady gave her cat a bath one day. And to make the little kitty dry faster, she had the idea to put him in the microwave. This was not a good idea. Ben Franklin invented the Armonica that made such beautiful music it was played in hospitals to aid in healing patients. Obviously, the Armonica was a good idea. Alana and I, one summer, tried several times to watch the sun rise over the ocean on the coasts of California. This was one of our less good ideas.
Last year, around this time, when I was trying to decide to move home to California or to sink my roots in and make Massachusetts my home, Fr. Michael advised me to pray the Paraklesis for forty days and entreat the Theotokos to guide me in my decision. He said that anytime he and his family have had to make important decisions they have done this and been incredibly blessed. I don't think I actually made it to day 40.
A couple nights ago, when Alana and I were trying to have a meaningful conversation in a bar over the music and interruptions of drunk couples asking us for smokes, we made an agreement that would keep us connected when we're on opposite sides of the country and keep our souls alive. It may be our best idea yet.
(Though, I just made pumpkin bread and that was a pretty good idea too.)