Simple Prayers
Preface
I am not a person who is particularly attracted to prayers uttered in public places. I am often called upon to offer public prayers and I do so when I am asked to. However, the temptation to perform and pontificate in public places is very great. It is not easy to be honest and vulnerable in our public praying. One would think that it would be much easier to be honest with God in our private moments. But it isn't. Our need to try to impress the Almighty seems to know no boundaries... even in private.
The purpose of this devotional booklet of prayers is to help us talk to God in the way true friends try to speak to one another. True friends speak to one another about the full range of their human concerns and feelings without trying to either impress the other or be less than truthful in what they have to say. Praying to God should be our highest form of truth-telling. It is my hope that the prayers I have chosen to share with you in this book will encourage the reader to be open and transparent before God and to speak the truth when he or she prays.
Laurence C. Keene
The Silence of the Friends
Dear God, it isn't what our enemies say about us that hurts us as deeply as what our friends do not say on our behalf. It is the silence of our friends, not the sound and fury of our enemies, that overwhelms us with the greatest feelings of sadness and aloneness. There have been moments in my life, dear Lord, when all I wanted to hear was a friend's voice speaking up on my behalf A soft, even inarticulate word of friendly support would have been enough to sustain my shaky feelings of self-confidence. In those moments of self-doubt I have not needed great oratory on my behalf. Just a word. A simple, supportive word would have been enough to quiet the opposing voices and revive my own shaken resolve. How bitterly barren I have felt when that voice has not been heard. I have felt silenced by their silence. Help me, dear God, to speak up for my friends. Don't allow my friends to feel defeated by my lack of a timely response on their behalf. Help me to speak that supportive word on behalf of my friends, even as inarticulate as it might be, that will neutralize all the sounds of the universe that might rise against them. Help my one word of support to restore the courage and resolve of a friend to face down the demons that can only win when friends are silent.
Who Is the Real Person?
I walked into a large waiting room, dear God, and I saw the room filled with people I did not recognize. One person was whistling merrily an old tune I vaguely remember having once sung myself. He was filled with such joy I could hardly imagine why he was in this room. Everyone else seemed so different. The entire assembly seemed plagued with such a pall of gloominess that it seemed quite out of keeping with this man's happy demeanor. One man was eating a sandwich with his back to another for fear that the other person near him might ask for a bite. "If he thinks he's getting any of my sandwich he's got another think a comin'," I heard him mutter to himself. Two people were arguing over sitting rights to the softest chair in the room. Another person was cowered in the comer afraid that others might see the tears she was cleverly trying to hide with the magazine she had thrust in her face. One man was counting the money in his wallet for the tenth time and another man was looking at the knees of a woman whose skirt had been too short while she was standing and far too revealing when she sat down. "Who are these people?" I asked the attendant at the receptionist's desk. "Why, they are all you," the attendant replied. "You have walked into the room of your inner self. These are the people you parade before all of us every day of your life. We see you very clearly. You seldom do. When the real you is asked to stand someday, I am afraid you will have to have a good-sized room to accommodate who you are." I left the room, dear God, and took all the pieces of me away with me.
Warring With Bread
I wonder what it would be like, dear God, to fight a war with bread. I know such a suggestion sounds nonsensical, but listen to me, dear God. For thousands of years we have been fighting our wars with increasingly sophisticated and devastatingly terrible new technologies. A long time ago we started warring with others by swinging huge clubs and throwing rocks at each other and today we launch terrible bombs and exploding rockets. When the warring is over, in every instance, it is never quite clear who is right. . .only who is left. And, whether the deaths are brought about by a rock or a rocket, dead is always dead. The winning dead and the losing dead are surgically removed from the pool of available human talent and resources that could have been used to construct a new and better world. What a waste, O God. Is there ever a good war? Is there ever a bad peace? Maybe we should fight one another with bread. Maybe we should try to kill our enemies with kindness. "How stupid," some would say. "How hopelessly naive," others would remark. "You don't deal with killers and tyrants that way," the wizened counselors would pontificate. Wait a minute, dear God. Who's being stupid and naive? What is so smart and enlightened about trying warring methods that haven't worked since the beginning of time? How many more failed attempts at whoring after war do we have to endure before we leam that sticks and stones really do break our bones and that calling people names and making faces at our enemies really do bring about injuries that never heal? So, pass me some bread, dear God. Help me to shame my enemy with my kindness. Maybe he will choose to retaliate with a loaf of his own.
Surprised by Arrogance
O God, I am so surprised at how alive and well the arrogant spirit is these days. I can even see it in the sandbox where sometimes one little child thinks he or she knows what is right for all the other little children in the box. I see it in the intimacy of friendships and loving relationships where one or both partners seeks to control the mind or behavior of the other. And, I am most surprised that arrogance appears to flourish the strongest in the hallowed assemblies of religious committees. It is there, in the inner sanctum of the sacred, where humility seems to suffer its greatest abuse. So-called holy leaders pronounce with the greatest certainty their gospel of truth. Seldom do they waver or even hesitate in the boldness with which they speak on your behalf, O God. The one thing I have observed about arrogant people is that they are never tentative. They never hesitate in the face of the overwhelming task that finite creatures have in trying to understand the infinite mind of God. They make truth-seeking appear to be absurdly simple. One would think that such an awesome thought would afflict us all with a great sense of humility. Sadly, dear Lord, the arrogant seem to not be so afflicted. Keep me humble and open to your continual correction and guidance, O Lord. Empty me of my conceit so I can be more filled with your spirit. Don't let me be so full of what I think is right that I cannot see what you think is good.
Tears that Help
Dear God, I'm not usually at a loss for words but the other day the right words simply would not come. A dear friend related a personal tragedy to me. It broke my heart to hear her tell her story. The tears welled up in my eyes and I ached for her. I wanted to say something that would take her awful pain away but no perfect words would come out of my mouth. All of my training, all of the books I had ever read, the many life experiences I have had in life, none of it came to my defense, or more importantly, to her aid. I felt so foolish and helpless. I had plenty of tears but no words. I didn't want the tears. Lord. I wanted the words. But only tears came. No words came. And then she finally said to me, "Thank you." And I said to her, "But I didn't say anything." She said, "Yes you did." Then she cried and a great peace came over her. I learned in that moment that it was not a time for saying. It was a time for doing. So I did the most eloquent thing I knew how to do. I wept.
Being Negative
Dear God, I spent a great deal of time the other day with a very cynical person. It had been such a long time since I had been exposed to such overwhelming negativeness. When my day with him was over I felt completely drained of my energy and hopefulness. It was as if my inner light had been turned off and I was left with only my darkness. The birds had stopped singing for me. No one was whistling a happy tune. The world seemed tilted to one side and I was tilted along with it. How cruel life must have been to this person to have led him to look at life in such a mean-spirited way. What made that dark experience so terrible for me was that his attitude not only robbed the light and music from his own soul but it robbed some of the light and music from mine as well. It was so sad that his joyous spirit had been silenced. But it was just as sad that he had succeeded in silencing, for the moment, the chorus of joy in me at the same time. A couple of days have passed since then, O Lord, and the light inside me has come on again. The birds are singing once more. My hope is up and running again and I am whistling a happier tune. It was a good reminder to me, O God, of just how terrible the darkness can be and how easy it can be to get lost in it. Thank you for providing that wonderful life-giving light again for me. Thank you, too, for the birds and their sweet music.
Child Abuse
"Can I divorce my parents?" That is what the young girl said to me. Lord. She wanted to divorce her mother and father. Her parents had abused her in many terrible ways as a child and they continued to do so to this very day. She felt that she was forever bound to them because they had given birth to her several years ago. Her parents thought that by giving birth to her they were permitted and entitled to brutalize her. This grieving, wounded girl didn't understand that her parents had already divorced her through their abusive conduct. Their parental contract had already been broken by their shameful behavior. The names 'mother' and 'father' were no longer appropriate names for them to wear. I told the young girl, O God, that we usually deserve the names we are given by others to wear. Names like: 'loafer,' 'freeloader,' 'addict,' and 'friend' are all earned names. I said to her that she didn't need to divorce and separate herself from her parents at all. They had already done that a long time ago. They had given up and discarded the good names they no longer deserved to wear. No child should ever have to divorce her parents, dear Lord. No parent should ever make them want to.
The Terrible Feeling of Loneliness
My house seems so empty, dear Lord. My life's partner has been away for a few days and there are no sounds in the house except my own. How empty a house can be when there are no sounds in it except ones own. I have been thinking lately of the many people I know whose mates have died and have left their partners with soundless, empty houses. Empty houses that will never be filled again with the sounds of give-and-take partnerships. Empty houses that are never quite filled when only one person is in them. How empty a kitchen table can be, dear Lord, when there is no one on the other side of it looking back. How much less melodious a song is when there is no one else nearby to hum along with. How much less funny a humorous story seems to be when there is no other person's laughter to mingle with our own. Be with us lonely people, dear Lord. Sit across the table from us. Hum with us. Laugh with us. We need to hear some sounds other than our own. Make some noise, dear God. We need to know we are not alone.
Seeing the Stars
Dear God, I have noticed from a lifetime of observing people, that there are two distinctly different kinds of individuals I seem to encounter on a daily basis: those who look upon their circumstances in life and see nothing but mud, and others who look up and around themselves and only see stars. Mud and stars. They are both there, to be sure, but most of us seem to only see one or the other. I saw a woman the other day standing knee-deep in mud but all she could see were stars. I have seen others standing on the crest of a high mountain on a crystal clear night and all they could see was mud. What people see in life, O Lord, doesn't seem to have much to do with where they are in life at all. It seems to have so much more to do with who and what kind of people they are. Help me, dear God, to see stars even in muddy situations. Give me hope, dear Lord, when I am up to my knees in discouragement. I am not asking you to change my circumstances; I am just asking you to help me to change the way I look at them. Keep me from seeing less when I could be so much more wonderfully blessed by seeing more. Don't let the mud in my life keep the stars from shining for me.
Read My Lips
I was talking to you in a public place the other day. Lord. My words were so softly spoken I could barely hear the words myself. My lips were moving quickly to express some urgent feeling I wanted to share with you when a woman interrupted my soliloquy and said to me: "Pardon me, were you speaking to me?" "No," I said, "I was just speaking to myself." I wasn't really just speaking to myself, O God. I mean, I was speaking to myself but I was also speaking to you, too. But I didn't say that to the lady. I don't know why I didn't tell her. She certainly looked like a nice enough lady. I think I was a little embarrassed. I was caught off guard with my spiritual side exposed. But, in this two-dimensional, materialistic world I was quickly brought down to earth by her question. I felt uncomfortable. I felt as though she wouldn't have understood where I was in that special moment of my spiritual reverie. I also felt disturbed to have been removed by her from the sacred place I had been lifted to and abruptly forced by her to return to a place of such ordinariness. I should have told her the truth. Maybe my truth would have lifted her to a better place as well. Help me, dear Lord, to keep speaking to you in public places. Help me to have the courage to simply let others read my lips and to not be bothered about their wondering about my private wonderings.
The Joy of Playfulness
I was watching the little children stepping on their shadows, dear Lord. They were actually trying to run after their little child-like shadows. Their game went on and on for several minutes. They were lost in their playfulness. I looked at their faces and I saw my face reflected in one of them. But all of a sudden my face vanished and it wasn't my face at all. My vision of my own childhood passed away as quickly as it came. My own playful spirit vanished too. Just a vapor for a moment extinguished by adult realities. I miss that little child in me. I miss those playful moments when the most serious thought I had was to successfully slip away from my own shadow. I think I understand why adults look so longingly at children at play and why children absolutely never look the same way at adults who are busy working. I think children understand something the rest of us adults don't. Please, dear God, revive some of the child in me so I can remember and understand what a magnificent gift I once had and, hopefully, can have again.
Timely Thankfulness
Dear God, I remember when my grandmother bought me an expensive book for my high school graduation gift. She spent her entire month's small retirement salary for that book. I was a busy teenager who was going to thank her someday when I could find the time. Sadly, grandmother found the time to die before I found the time to be grateful. I learned an important lesson that day, O Lord. I learned that thanking someone quickly for the good they have done is much better than thanking them slowly for it. I have also learned that when I am late in thanking someone for their kindness or generosity that it gets easier and easier to simply not thank them at all. Once a certain amount of time passes it is almost impossible to thank someone without our insincerity nullifying or weakening the very words of gratitude we eventually utter. When that happens our avoidance of the other person is usually the alternative we choose to follow. Avoidance is our foolish way of saving face. We save our face at the expense of losing a generous friend. God, keep me grateful. Give me the timely words with which to express my gratitude. I would much rather have an on-going friendship with a generous friend than an ungrateful expression on my face or a spirit of avoidance in my heart.
Abusing Pretty Faces
O Lord, I was talking with a person the other day who had a blemish on her face. It wasn't a very large blemish, in fact it was a very small one. However, I found myself focused on this one very small imperfection. She had a beautiful face but all I could see was this minor blemish. Her imperfection drew more of my attention than did the rest of her beautiful face. I went away thinking about that small, insignificant flaw in her appearance as if that flaw somehow defined who she was. I had missed the rest of her beauty because of my fixation on her blemish. It was almost as if her beauty didn't exist at all for me because I was so interested in seeing something else. I destroyed her beauty because of my own very narrow and critical perception of her. O God, why do we do this to one another? Why do we slay the beautiful and ignore the wonderful in the people we meet each day? What arrogance in us drives us to define the people we meet in the basest of terms instead of seeing your divine image reflected in each one of your children? Please, dear Lord, give me a better eye to see the best in everyone I meet. The next time I find myself tempted to be critical of someone's face or character or appearance, please hand me a mirror.
The Healing Power of Kindness
Kindness! What a wonderful moment it is, O God, when a kind person walks into our lives. We feel so protected and encouraged. So safe from the pain we often bring to ourselves and from the crushing harm that others sometimes inflict on us as well. There is such profound healing in a kindly spirit. The abrasions that we experience from daily being rubbed the wrong way are washed and soothed by the gentle voice or touch of a kind person. God, I am willing to overlook a multitude of imperfections in a person who is kind. I am not saying that I am in favor of human frailties and faults but I am greatly in favor of kindness. I am in favor of how, when everything else fails to restore my will to persevere in life, a kind response to me will usually energize and motivate me to keep on keeping on. I know that everyone cannot be intelligent, witty, or gifted in the ways that usually make people sit up and take notice but I know that we can all be more kind. Help me to be a kinder person, O Lord, . . . even if no one notices.
Showing Forgiveness
O Lord, it is a wonderful feeling to feel forgiven by people we have wronged. There is no lower low in all of life than to have done something terribly wrong to another person and to feel as if that wrong will never be forgiven. We have all had that soul-numbing experience, Lord. We have walked around with a leaden heaviness in our heart wishing we could live a previous foolish moment all over again and prevent a terrible wrong we had done from ever having occurred. How strong our need for forgiveness is, O God. And when this forgiveness comes to us it is like a re-birth. A resurrection. A reviving of our soul at the very door of death itself. Thank you, dear Lord, for placing in my pathway forgiving individuals. People who have the kindness to absorb my painful treatment with grace and who gave me my life back again by forgiving me. So much like you these wonderful people are. They gave me not what I deserved but what I so badly needed. I am very grateful for what these dear forgiving people are teaching me and grateful, too, for what you have taught them.
Being Generous With My Praise
Dear God, we speak so many wonderful words about others at funerals. Why is it that we do not speak these words to one another daily when they can be heard and appreciated? I have witnessed the difference a timely word of praise can make in the life of a person who does not feel very worthwhile and who may doubt whether their contributions to life are of any real importance or significance to anyone. I have seen how people can come to life again as a result of one sincere and well-placed compliment given to them or a timely word of appreciation spoken for the smallest thing they might have done for someone else. Words! Life-giving, mood-enhancing words. How easy it actually is, dear God, for us to dispense these words lavishly ... but we do not do it nearly enough. How stingy we are with what could be a powerful remedy for another person's miserable day. A simple word of praise. A compliment. A note of appreciation. So much better gifts are they than flowers given at a funeral or a spoken eulogy that will never be heard by the very person who needed to hear those life-giving words . . .. earlier.
Larry Keene was a minister and a professor of sociology for 50 years. He retired, found that he has the soul of an artist, and for the past few years has been creating beautiful stained-glass art - nothing he ever thought he would do. (I am so very proud to have been able to witness this "ol' man" learn a few new tricks and watch him tend to his inner child who likes so much to play.) He's more religious now than ever.
Larry is the secretary of the board of Religion-Outside-The-Box.