The Heart's True Home

Writing about prayer is a blessing in and of itself. Partly this is because it is familiar, at least at some level, to most people. Even if grace is not said at mealtimes and bedtime rituals have never mentioned God, the concept of thanking and beseeching a divine power regarding things undeserved or uncontrollable is so common, it would be unremarkable to find we were built for prayer.

An even stronger reason to like writing about prayer is the chance to revisit Richard J. Foster's "Prayer: Finding the Heart's True Home", a wonderful examination of prayer in all its various forms. Foster differentiates no fewer than 21 different types of prayer, reflecting the wide range of emotions, experiences and expectations that people bring to any particular expression of prayer. Given such an expanse of situations, it is no wonder that even the fundamentals of what amounts to conversation with God may change to suit the occasion. The extremes of need give rise to different techniques by which to approach the divine.

As that is a very common goal of many Lenten practices, Foster's introductory words are especially appropriate:

"Today the heart of God is an open wound of love. He aches over our distance and preoccupation. He mourns that we do not draw near to him. He grieves that we have forgotten him. He weeps over our obsession with muchness and manyness. He longs for our presence.

"And he is inviting you - and me - to come home, to come home to where we belong, to come home to that for which we were created. His arms are stretched out wide to receive us. His heart is enlarged to take us in."

Such a love, wounded but still longing, is offered to all and is sorely needed by most. The practice of prayer leads through the front door of heaven, a well-travelled road to the presence of God, himself. It is a long road, but one that even the most jaded cynic can walk and for those willing to stick to it, it gives grace, understanding and peace.

May God show you new paths of prayer this Lent.