Self-deception in Prayer
Sometimes we agonize over our dry uninspiring prayer time. We agonize over it at length even as we try to endure and to arouse in ourself a desire and focus to pray. Failing to do so successfully, we agonize more and return to the days with the half-satisfied thought that we have been keeping up in our devos–after all, we spent that time out of an inner desire for God right?
I have had times when I have spent an hour or two just trying to bring my spirit to the right place to connect with God in prayer, battling against all the distracted thoughts floating across my mind or against the haze of nothingness which would see me sleeping. Persistently on the verge of prayer but not quite there… it is without the usual certainty I have that I am indeed in live, connected, prayer dialogue with God. Those seem worthwhile efforts to me still.
But there are other times–like tonight and yesterday–through which I have spent on and off quite some chunks of time trying to focus in prayer, which are for the most part wasted effort. I have always weighed heavily the importance of intention–that which arises of the will–of the heart–of desire. With it, even if there seems no tangible progress, it is not in vain. There is inherent value in the pursuit itself. But I realize in a new way now that there is also a part of inner desire that is also very useless, that is benign. It is that part of our desire and will which is the laziest. That knows what it should strive for and sets after it but with no thing of substance truly in it.
I sit down to pray. I want to pray. I want to hear. I quiet myself. I listen.
But really I’m not. I’m not quieting myself. I’m not listening. I’ve deceive myself so that I don’t see the laziness and lack of willingness; of commitment; of sacrifice in readiness. But would make myself believe that I truly tried, but by some external factor was prevented, but which was still a worthwhile effort. The small, lazy desire puts on the cloak of the strong, fervent and true.
Ah well I caught myself this time–shortly after the fact. Let’s try again.
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So I’m back. It was a short prayer. But it was probably worth more than the hour I spent earlier–when I wasn’t truly “trying”. It’s all just a condition of the heart/spirit. Prayer is personal connection.
It’s like with any friendship. You might spend years with the same classmate in class, studying together, and hanging out. But nonetheless may find you feel much closer to a person you’ve only chatted with a few times. Probably because the latter’s attitude was different: they let you in.