Prayer has changed me.
It has softened my edges and shown me new ways to think and act.
I am grateful and as I mature, I notice a kinder version of myself.
I was born in Iowa into a Presbyterian family and the first spiritual training I received was in church, Sunday school and around the family piano. I loved to sing and church offered outlets for singing, so I weathered the religious talk in order to find an audience for my singing. I drew and daydreamed during the church service and eagerly awaited the hymns that bookmarked the service.
My mother always had something interesting in her purse to amuse me, TicTacs, Beemans gum, a small writing pad and a sweet-scented hankie with ruffled lace edges. The ritual of church was lovely. The talk did not capture me but the stained glass did and the mood of quiet, calm and peacefulness. The wood pews were polished to a slick finish and to me, the slide into place marked the beginning. For one hour, the worries of the outer world were shielded from us and in this cocoon, I had my first experience of meditation and prayer.
As a young adult I did not attend church. I was married at 18 and had a daughter at 19. We moved to the Pacific Northwest and Sundays were now a time for exploring nature, taking long drives, visiting family and appreciating that connection. This connectedness was my next phrase of spiritual development. In this gorgeous part of the world, I learned to breathe with the tides and to trust the strength and faithfulness of forests and mountains. Connection to nature is my truest spiritual connection. There I have no questions about the brilliance and surprise of spirit. In connection to nature, family and mothering I found my personal signature to spirituality.
Next came the influence of West Coast openness to metaphysics. I was curious and fascinated. I wanted to learn it all as fast as possible. I studied astrology, tarot, numerology, intuitive development, creative visualization, and writing affirmations. Louise Hay was just beginning to publish her work that would later become the well-known book, You Can Heal Your Life.
In 1982 I purchased a small blue booklet titled, Heal Your Body by Louise L. Hay. The penciled price on the inside front cover said $2.25. At the time I couldn’t have known that 30 years later, I would meet the author and she would autograph this treasure for me. The affirmations in this booklet became the beginning of my use of affirmations as prayers. The idea that I could heal an emotional or physical wound by my thoughts was a concept I had never encountered. It was not a religious message, it was a spiritual message I quickly and deeply understood the difference.
My thoughts and ailments began to shift. I was healing myself with the power of words and thoughts aligned only with love and good.
Another place of learning about prayer was in the 12-step world. In my late-20s, I learned The Serenity Prayer. Within these rooms, I felt understood and then I wanted to understand. I learned that prayer could heal emotional and physical afflictions and self-loathing. I learned that I could feel love and compassion for myself and others through prayer and meditation. I learned the power of surrender and what it feels like to completely release fear in my daily life – for a minute, an hour and sometimes a day at a time.
As I look at my life today, the appreciation I feel for this story and the unique way it has unfolded for me is beyond measure. While the details are unique to me, I also know that they belong to all of us. In our connectedness, we are the same. Our pathways to enlightenment may appear different, but the promises it holds are similar.
I took my granddaughter to church with me to recently. As I watched her going through my purse looking for the familiar TicTacs and writing pad, I found myself whispering the promises of enlightenment to her, and to the little girl who sat in a pew much like this one, all those years ago in Iowa. I wished for them and I wish for you:
And So It is…..