Suppose
you give your three-year old daughter a coloring book and a box of crayons for
her birthday. The following day, with the proud smile only a little one can
muster, she presents her first pictures for inspection. She has colored the sun
black, the grass purple, and the sky green. In the lower right-hand corner, she
has added woozy wonders of floating slabs and hovering rings; on the left, a
panoply of colorful, carefree squiggles. You marvel at her bold strokes and
intuit that her psyche is railing against its own cosmic puniness in the face
of a big, ugly world. Later at the office, you share with your staff your
daughter's first artistic effort and you make veiled references to the early
work of van Gogh. A little child cannot do a bad coloring; nor can a child of
God do bad prayer.
A
father is delighted when his little one, leaving off her toys and friends, runs
to him and climbs into his arms. As he holds his little one close to him, he
cares little whether the child is looking around, her attention flitting from
one thing to another, or just settling down to sleep. Essentially the child is
choosing to be with her father, confident of the love, the care, the security
that is hers in those arms. Our prayer is much like that. We settle down in our
Father's arms, in his loving hands. Our minds, our thoughts, our imagination
may flit about here and there; we might even fall asleep; but essentially we
are choosing for this time to remain intimately with our Father, giving
ourselves to him, receiving his love and care, letting him enjoy us as he will.
It is very simple prayer. It is very childlike prayer. It is prayer that opens
us to all the delights of the kingdom.
From
"The Ragamuffin Gospel" by Brennan Manning
No comments:
Post a Comment