Living A Life Of Prayer

 

I've been thinking a bit about prayer lately, mostly because I haven't had much of a response to the prayers I've been praying to sell my house, which has been on the market for over 230 days now.  

I've got to tell you that my faith, resolve, and patience have been stretched to the limit more than once while I've been trying to hang through this season of waiting.  Not to mention, my frustration at all of the reasons why the housing market has slowed to a grinding halt, which wasn't the case before last November.  

The funny thing about prayer is that you keep doing it, even when there's no discernible answer, and mostly only silence.  

I pray the prayer of Thomas Merton every single day.  If you don't know it, look it up. It's a good prayer and one that I need to hear myself speak.  I also pray when I'm feeling desperate, and I have been praying out of grief over all the ills of the world.  

These prayers are barely more than unspoken thoughts most of the time, and occasionally whispered pleas.  I figure that God knows what's on my heart, so it doesn't matter what form it takes.  

I ran across this fantastic quote from author Joan Chittister the other day, and I had to share it : 

“Spirituality without a prayer life is no spirituality at all, and it will not last beyond the first defeats. Prayer is an opening of the self so that the Word of God can break in and make us new. Prayer unmasks. Prayer converts. Prayer impels. Prayer sustains us on the way. Pray for the grace it will take to continue what you would like to quit.”

Chittister’s words on prayer pierce with clarity and urgency: “Spirituality without a prayer life is no spirituality at all, and it will not last beyond the first defeats.” In this, she reminds us that spirituality is not a vague sense of well-being or a casual appreciation of the divine. True spirituality is anchored. It is rooted in relationship, and that relationship is nurtured through prayer.

Prayer is not simply the act of speaking to God; it is the courageous act of opening ourselves to God. Chittister says that prayer “unmasks.” This is not comfortable work. When we pray sincerely, we are laid bare—our fears, our pride, our longings, and our brokenness rise to the surface. 

The masks we wear before the world—of confidence, success, control—begin to slip when we stand vulnerably before God. In that unmasking, we discover both our deep need and God’s deeper grace.

Prayer “converts,” she writes. This means it changes us, slowly and sometimes painfully. In a world that celebrates instant results, prayer is the patient soil where God reshapes our hearts over time. It reorients our desires, heals our wounds, and aligns us with God’s purposes. It is the furnace in which the self is refined—not through striving, but through surrender.

Prayer “impels.” When we open ourselves to God, we are often stirred to action. Real prayer does not lead us into passivity but calls us forward—to forgive, to serve, to persist, to speak truth, to love in difficult places. It becomes fuel for our mission, not an escape from it.

And yet, prayer also “sustains.” When defeat comes—and it always does—prayer is the place we return to, the place where we remember who we are and who God is. It is the quiet strength that holds us when nothing else seems to.

The final line is perhaps the most human: “Pray for the grace it will take to continue what you would like to quit.” We all face seasons when the burden feels too heavy, the calling too costly, the hope too faint. In those moments, we may not have the words or the will, but we can still pray. And in that honest cry for grace, God meets us again—quietly, faithfully, transforming defeat into deeper trust.

Chittister’s reflection calls us not just to have a prayer life, but to live a prayerful life—one where every step, stumble, and renewal is grounded in the holy conversation that never ends.

May we all find inspiration and courage in these words.  May we learn to live a life of prayer.  And may the grace and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with us, now and always.  Amen.