Today was a good day. Not a remarkable day, or a life-changing day, just the kind of day where I get to the end, look back, and smile.
I was due to have lunch with a friend, but I arrived a little early and popped in to see another friend. She wasn’t expecting me, and watching her face light up was truly humbling, but also deeply good. There are some friendships that last, even over distance and time. They feel just as real, just as meaningful, even after months, or even years apart. They are still there, waiting for a chance to pick up where we left off.
This was one of those friendships.
I think one of the best things about this kind of friendship is that it doesn’t always need words. Sometimes, just enjoying each other’s company is life-giving.
It can be like that with prayer too. My spiritual director asked me what my prayer life looks like at the moment. “Quiet,” I said. “Like I’ve run out of words and energy, so I just sit in the quiet.”
Like my friendships, my relationship with God doesn’t always need words. I’ll admit, this kind of silent prayer won’t sustain me long term. But there is a place for it. When I’m drained and spent, when emotions feel too much, when there isn’t much left to give, it’s better to spend time with God in silence than not spend time with God at all.
Of course, I want to catch up with my friends, to hear what they’ve been doing and share my own news. But the most precious thing is simply being able to spend time with them. And if it’s that simple with friendship, why do I make prayer so complicated?
Maybe prayer doesn’t always need to be well-formed or carefully structured.
Maybe it doesn’t always need words at all. And perhaps this quiet is not the end of prayer, only a beginning again. A place to rest, to realign, to slowly find a rhythm that can sustain me beyond this season.
Because the truth is, God is still there. And maybe, gently and patiently, He is inviting me to be there too.
The Reason for my Hope Blog 