This Too Is Prayer

Here I am... Here I am.

To the left of my laptop sits a yellow post-it with 4 bullet points:

• Be Present

• Listen

• Ask

• Wait

It’s been here for several months, written by my husband Paul as a note-to-self for how he wants to show up on the work calls he makes from our attic desk. As soon as I saw it, I claimed it for myself as well. I also want to be a person of non-anxious presence, of patient listening, of curious question-asking, of unhurried stillness.

At first, I assumed this primarily applied to my role as a spiritual director, meeting with women over zoom to pay attention together to how the Holy Spirit is moving in their life. My aim with each session is to cultivate a sacred space for experiencing Christ’s love and hearing His gentle invitations. This certainly requires presence, listening, asking, and waiting.

But as I sit here now, I’m realizing this is actually an invitation from Christ, to me. This too is prayer.

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My days these days are slow and small and often very much the same. I wouldn’t have thought that life with twin two-year-olds would be this… quiet? I mean, it’s never not loud and crazy with a couple of toddlers wrestling and fighting over toys and happily squealing at the top of their lungs. But it’s quiet in a hidden, mundane, groundhogs day kind of way.

I’ll wake up tomorrow and wipe runny noses again. I’ll kiss bumps and bruises again. I’ll fix breakfast, lunch, and dinner again (and hope against hope that I happen to figure out exactly what they want and like and will eat on this particular day).

I’ll wash the same dishes. I’ll fold the same laundry. I’ll read the same bedtime books. I’ll hold the same sleepy boys and sway as I squeeze them tight, perhaps with grateful tears in my eyes.

Being present. Listening. Asking. Waiting.
This too is prayer.

I could stare into these faces forever. And this, too, is prayer.

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In my single years, I loved waking up early, pouring my coffee, and spending the next hour meandering slowly through various books, writing in my journal, reading scripture, jotting my to do’s, praying for people, and generally preparing for whatever was on my calendar.

That is no longer who I am. Not that I don’t desire it but, try as I may, it’s just not how my life is working these days.

On the mornings when I do wake up before the boys start giggling or whining or making mischief, I consider a few minutes of silence and stillness a gift and simply aim to breath and be.

Maybe not much more is needed or expected. Maybe it’s as simple as showing up and being all here— to God, to my family, to the day, to myself.

Maybe laying in the hammock during nap time and staring at the trees is just as holy as all of those other things. Maybe looking at Christ who is looking at me is all He wants or needs.

Be present. Listen. Ask. Wait.
This too is prayer.

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Today, I wanted to share with you a rather vulnerable poem I wrote several years ago but hits strangely close to home for me these days.

It begins as a somewhat desperate request to encounter the Lord, a longing for something fresh, something new, something “exciting.” And it ends with the gentle voice of God longing simply to be with me, to be with you.

So, without further ado, may the following poem+practice+prayer invite you to simplify and under-complicate your own practice of the presence of God.

with you in being here,

Sarah

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HERE I AM

by Sarah Bourns Crosby

Here I am, Lord 
I’ve come to meet with You. 
I don’t care how You come, Lord
Just... that... You do.

I’m barely hanging on these days
I’m lonely, tired, afraid. 
It’s been awhile since I’ve heard from You,
I miss Your voice… your face.

I’ve learned of You 
I’ve known of You 
But I’m desperate to
Encounter You. 

So 

Here I am, Lord 
I’ve come to meet with You. 
I don’t care how You come, Lord
Just... that… You do. 

I don’t care if it’s quiet 
I don’t care if it’s loud 
I don’t care if it’s inside these four walls
Or somewhere so far out.

You can show up unexpected 
You can arrive unannounced
You can come and surprise me
In a burning bush, on holy ground.

You can let me see Your face 
Or hide as You pass by 
You could be in an earthquake 
Or a whisper, or a pillar of fire. 

I’m here with no plans, no agenda
No formulas, no rules.

I just want to be with You. 

…

My child, 
Here I AM 
I’ve come to meet with you. 
I don’t care how you come to Me,
Just… that... you do.

You can come angry 
Anxious 
Lonely, tired, afraid. 

Distracted 
Disillusioned 
Disappointed 
Disengaged. 

Here I AM my child, 
I’ve come to meet with you. 
I don’t care how you come, beloved
Just… that... you do.  

You can be quiet 
You can be loud
You can be scattered or hurried or worried. 
This is ALL sacred ground.

Here I AM, beloved one 
I’ve come to meet with you.
I don’t care how you come, my child.

I just want to be with you.

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Watch a beautiful recording of this poem filmed during my NYC days, produced by Max Partain for The Alliance.

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A PRACTICE

Experience Empathy

What words would you use to describe the posture of your heart these days:

Angry, anxious?
Lonely, tired, afraid?
Distracted? Disillusioned? 
Disappointed? Disengaged?
Or perhaps expectant? Dependent?
Waiting and trusting?

Hear Jesus now inviting you to bring any and all of these feelings to Him.

How do you imagine He feels about how you feel?

Allow yourself to experience the deepest empathy of Christ who not only understands your emotions but actually shares them with you. Like the best listener you know, watch how Jesus reflects back to you whatever feelings you bring to Him.

This too is prayer.

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“I look at God. God looks at me. And we are happy.”

There’s an old story of a peasant farmer who would often sit for hours in a sanctuary, not saying a thing. When the priest asked him what he was doing all that time, this was his sweet reply.

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A PRAYER

For practicing presence

You know I love the contemplative form of prayer called a "breath prayer." The simple words are meant to be said on a deep inhale and then again on a long exhale and repeated several times. Try this one here as a two-way conversation between you and Jesus.

Here I am, Lord... (deep breath in)
(picture yourself walking toward Jesus, just as you are right now)

Here I AM, My Child... (slow breath out)
(picture Jesus walking toward you, a smile on His face)

Repeat as many times as it takes for your soul to settle and for you to remain present to Christ as He is present to you. Try breathing this prayer in and out while you do something else (like washing dishes, per Brother Lawrence) as a reminder that being with God can happen anytime, anywhere.

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Practicing being present in the ordinariness and the weirdness of the day. Yes, even this too is prayer. (The back of their shirts says “but different,” a nod to Paul’s Thailand days)

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P.S.

Join August’s Monthly Prayer & Practice!
On the last Thursday each month, we take about 45 minutes to walk through a “selah” time to pause with God together over zoom. This month, on August 29th at 3pm EST, I'll lead us through an exercise of imagining Jesus sharing an ordinary day with us, moment by moment. We'll observe our interactions and experiences in the mundane business of life. If you need some tangible hand-holds for truly practicing the presence of Christ, this one is for you! It’s always free and I’ll send the recording if you can’t make it live. Just REGISTER HERE.