Relearning to pray

I lost a close friend a couple years ago and watching her decline was painful. I found that after she died I couldn’t pray.  Much if at all.  I could read the bible – and write to God.  So I carried on.  But that felt inadequate in my tradition.  It’s been frustrating – I felt a fake – a very sore hearted one at that.  But the only one giving me grief was me.  My friends just prayed for me instead and told me writing was fine.  So I have bought a book of celtic prayer by the Northumbria Community.  I find it gives me words and a framework:

A glisten of garden lanterns lighting the way to a fire gathering

The hard packed stone paved trackway across featureless peat

A line of age whitened posts in a landscape vulnerable to snow

Liturgical prayer is anchoring me.

Keeping me on course

Stopping me from sinking

Allowing a little fire warmth

To creep back into the dust.

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