For God alone, o my soul, wait in silence

For my hope is from him.

Psalm 62 v 5

My childhood echoed with the phrase ‘the trouble with you, Patricia…’ mostly, it seemed to me, related to my being Patricia and it wasn’t clear to me what I could do about that. However, my beloved Sr. Mary Magdalene was onto something when she remarked that the trouble was that I thought words were the solution to everything.  She said this in the context of prayer, although I now suspect her suggestion that I should be quiet and listen extended somewhat beyond this activity.

Prayer baffles me. I am content that other people deeply engage with it, and some of the formal language is truly beautiful, but, other than thanksgiving, I struggle. I find it challenging to adore or worship, to confess or petition, to find a relationship.  The words won’t come or I spend my time crafting them so that they express only as much as I believe I have the right to say. I pull apart the words as if God is listening to them and not to the soul that speaks.

So, the good nun’s injunction was entirely appropriate to my dilemma.  I try to cease my struggle with words, to quieten my soul and listen.  I bow my head at the name of Jesus in the prayerful action that she suggested needed no words.  I make just one uncompromised prayer: that I can be quiet for long enough to hear God, like Elijah, in the silence.