Arguing with a priest, failing everyday and praying anyway

Posted on December 14, 2009 by elizabeth

I'm not a particularly spiritual person. I can't drum up mystical feelings. Most of the time I don't "feel" God near me. And also, I dislike going to church.

But I go anyway.

It's almost like going on a diet. I don't want to restrict my caloric intake, but I force myself to do it anyway. I'll never want to exercise. But I do it anyway.

It takes effort to keep the bitterness and cynicism at bay. I find myself sitting through a sermon criticizing everything and getting fidgety. I think up sarcastic Tweets, doodle on the church bulletin.

You know, generally acting like a stubborn child.

"You need to get over yourself," Matt says to me. He has a point. I place great importance on my own thoughts and feelings. But I can be ridiculously dismissive of the thoughts and feelings of others.

Last week after a particularly dismal failure in character, I found myself shaking my fist (metaphorically) at the sky.

I imagine God got a good chuckle out of my tantrum. I mean, did I really think I was better than anyone else? Did I really think myself immune to the same failures and breaches of integrity that plague all of us?

I called up a friend–who happens to be a priest–and started arguing with him. Thankfully my friend knows that arguing is how I figure stuff out and he doesn't take it personally. Also, he's unafraid to argue back.

Which can be frustrating. And annoying. I want validation and sympathy. Not cold, hard truth.

"I'm gonna quit calling you," I said. "Because you say the same thing every time."

"What's that?" he asked.

"You tell me to quit feeling sorry for myself, cheer up and start praying for others."

He laughed. "Well, I'm preaching to myself, too," he said.

I'm finding that most of my angst can be directly correlated to lack of prayer. I neglect prayer because I'm not good at it. But I should know better.

Have I forgotten that the only thing that brought me through the first two years of my twins' lives was prayer? It was sink or swim. Prayer helped me swim. Prayer was my source of strength.

If I wait around until I feel like praying–I'll never pray. Truth is, I'm never going to evolve past the point of needing to pray.

Most of the time I just have to do it in spite of my stubborn, complaining self.

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  • http://catholicmutt.blogspot.com CM

    Thanks for a much-needed prod in the seat of the pants!:)

  • http://MeditativeMeanderings.blogspot.com Susanne Barrett

    I don’t know if you are looking for advice, so if you aren’t then cheerfully disregard. :)

    Five years ago I couldn’t pray. I was curled up in a ball with chronic physical pain diagnosed as three different autoimmune conditions by three different doctors. Most of time I couldn’t concentrate enough to read. I wanted to pray my way out of the curled-up ball of woe and tears, but I couldn’t.

    Then I discovered written prayers.

    Prayers written by others who prayed so beautifully that somehow I finally felt like I was praying in worship rather than ticking off a grocery list of needs for myself and others.

    My favorite little book is _A Diary of Private Prayer_ by John Baillie. It contains morning and evening prayers for thirty days, with Sunday prayers at the very back. The page across from the prayers is blank so that you can write your own prayers or add requests or whatever. This little prayer book is so beautifully written and contains a far more global aspect to prayer that I still use it regularly, even though I’m close to having many of the prayers memorized. I find copies available at half.com for under $5.

    I also have grown to love The Divine Hours by Phyllis Tickle. There are three volumes that take you through the entire calendar year and also follows the liturgical year (Advent, Lent, etc.) Mostly Scripture laid out in Morning, Midday, and Evening Prayers, they take five minutes to pray (ten if you go slowly and meditate), and a set of Compline prayers for each day of the week is set in the back of each month. I’m sure you can find the three volumes at half.com or Amazon — they’re simply lovely.

    These prayer books were ideal when I had littles running about and no time for prayer. They kept me connected with the Lord beautifully, yet took little time and didn’t require me to come up with prayers of my own, something I couldn’t do when in so much pain and with little ones to care for. (My condition worsened when our youngest was 18 months.) Anyway, praying prayers already written has revolutionized my own prayer life, and I find myself still praying from these these prayer books even now, when my pain is mostly under control.

    Praying for you,
    Susanne :)

  • http://ayoungmomsmusings.blogspot.com/ Young Mom

    Wow, is it just the upbringing? You sound just like me. I really struggle to stay with it at church, and not doodle or nap or fidget. Sarcasm is one of my main contributions to coversation and I am soooo pessimistic. I keep telling myself that ,my issues are to stupid to bother praying about them, but whenever I do pray, everything goes more smoothly. Thanks for the challenge.

  • http://chocolateaftersupper.blogspot.com/ cindykay

    Our whole family has become allergic to church recently. I’m not sure why, except I know we are tired of being attacked from the pulpit instead of encouraged. So, I’m sorry to say, we’ve given up going. But we’re still looking!

    Also, I LOVE the Divine Hours; praying the psalms and pre-written prayers is like brain-washing myself, in the best way.

  • http://annebender.blogspot.com Anne

    Sounds like a dry spell. That’s when it’s hardest to pray but also when our prayers mean the most. If that describes you, I would say I’m right there with you! Keep on keepin’ on!

  • http://teasinglydiverse.blogspot.com Amanda

    I can’t say I relate exactly, because I haven’t had issues with church or prayer, but I often find myself fighting to read Scripture. I mean, I just have SO many more important things to occupy my time (only a *little* sarcastic, ha!).

    Fighting it out seems like a good approach, better than just acquiescing, right?

  • http://theextraordinaryordinary.blogspot.com Heather of the EO

    Me too. When you tweeted about your feelings at church, I tried to tweet back but my computer froze up. I just simply said “me too.” And I don’t know. I know that I’m being a stubborn child and prideful and angry. But I also know that so much of what’s being spoken from the pulpit in many a church is just so so so frustrating. So focused on things that may be true, but are not the only point. There’s no freedom or redemption spoken and then I leave feeling small and worthless which makes me live that way. And I hate that. I don’t know what to do about it. I go too, and sometimes I think I’m meant to be there to be different, to speak the truth too, but with more hope.

  • http://www.morningstarr.typepad.com Dina

    love this…because that’s me too! my husband gently gave me the same critique this week: it’s not all about you, honey. talking with friends is a great comfort. thanks, as always, for your honesty!