Prayer: Forty Days Of Practiceنموونە

AGAIN AND AGAIN

I want to see mountains move when I pray. I want to send my words into the heavens and know things change. But I’m learning that I can’t just jump to that kind of prayer. I must become that kind of person first.

In preparation for my first visit to India, I watched a documentary film about Mother Teresa. Midway through the film, the filmmakers captured a moment that changed the way I think about prayer.

You’re likely familiar with the work Mother Teresa did for decades with the sick and dying. Particularly moving to me is the work her ministry has done and continues to do among children, since kids are impacted the worst by things like poverty, disease, and corruption. One memorable scene in the film focused on a young boy who repeatedly went into convulsions. His tiny, frail body shook, his eyes rolled back, and his arms folded in on his chest. Patiently and steadily, one of the sisters ran her hand over his chest, whispering as she did. The change was almost imperceptible at first, but as the excruciating minutes passed, his convulsing lessened, his breathing slowed, his arms relaxed.

Eventually, the cameras cut away to the next scene focusing on another aspect of Mother Teresa’s legacy. My mind stayed behind, though. I thought about how the young boy would almost certainly have another episode, requiring similar care; how the loving presence and patience of that sister would be called upon again.

My mind has often gone back to that scene with the convulsing boy and specifically to the sister caring for him. What manner of person she must be to do that work. And more than that, to do it over and over again. The thing is, she became the kind of person who can do that work by doing it over and over again. She was shaped and transformed by her practice.

So it is with prayer. I want to pray and immediately see mountains move. But perhaps before that is true of me and my prayer life, I need to simply pray, over and over. I must become a person who prays—a person of prayer. Perhaps, with time and practice, I might be shaped into the kind of person whose prayers move mountains.

But first, I must pray.