When I started dating my husband Michael in 2016 and he was faced with some personal challenges, I confessed to my Spiritual Director that I did not know how to pray for him. What to ask of the Divine Presence? Any request I could formulate seemed inadequate and incomplete. My half-formed petitions seemed self-serving - reflecting my will and my desires and contrary to Jesus’ own words, “Not my will, but thine be done.” She wisely directed me saying simply, “Why don’t you just hold him in the Light?”
It was a watershed moment in my prayer life. It gave me great freedom to not use words when I pray, but rather images. Since then, when I think of Michael, I envision him bathed in pure, white, warm light. Sometimes I add a word or two: “Light” or “Air.” This has been my way of spiritually caring for this man whom I love with all my heart. We are thriving in our marriage, and he is thriving as a person. God is present in his life in ways we can’t even conceive of – robust and life-giving ways.
This fall, as I sat in the garden in the warmth of the afternoon sun, I looked to the top of a tree in our neighbor’s yard and saw its leaves dancing in the breeze against a bright blue sky. It was so striking an image that I tried to take a live photo with my iPhone, but it couldn’t quite capture the movement and life of the moment. I realized in that moment that I could pray this image for Michael: the dancing leaves of a tall, strong tree in the bright light of the sun! It speaks volumes of all the goodness I hope for him.
A few days after this, I had an opportunity to meet with someone in my church who was on fire for the Bible. He was contemplating going to seminary and eager to delve more deeply into the riches of scripture. When I asked him what was his goal -- was it another degree? Ordained ministry? He said he simply wanted to share his love of scripture with others. Then he asked me how he might pray about this. Drawing on the wise counsel of my Spiritual Director, I suggested he picture himself as someone who fans the flames of others’ interest in scripture. He was excited at the prospect and eager to get to work.
After our meeting, I was so grateful for his earnestness and heartened by our conversation that I sent up a prayer of thanks. As I did, I imagined a piece of charcoal in a fire pit, still glowing and radiating heat, but no longer in flames. I imagined blowing on the ember and fanning it until it once again burst into a fresh flame and caused the whole fire to re-ignite. This was a prayer for my friend and his growing passion for God’s Word.
Another watershed moment! I realized the power of this new form of prayer: images speak so much more completely and beautifully and wholly and creatively about someone’s well-being – way, way more than words could ever convey. I started to think of the people in my life for whom I pray, and as I did, images came to me - images that speak of their wholeness and well-being.
For my stepson Eamon: an acorn. A small nut that holds a mighty oak. All that it needs is to germinate, send down a tap root, then reach for the sun. With water and good soil and light, the acorn becomes a tree. The acorn holds amazing potential.
For my niece Debbie: A beautiful sunrise, with streaks of purple and orange. The peaceful and beautiful promise of a new day. And for her baby: A precocious titmouse, singing the dawn chorus. And for her husband: a beautiful Stradivarius violin. I pray for this whole family together, incorporating the images into one tranquil and life-giving scene.
For my Stepdaughter Amanda: a wave on the ocean, rolling into the beach, strong and sure of itself, washing onto the sand where little birds race to find a meal in its wake.
For my niece Aliza: a beautiful babbling stream; clean, clear water dancing over rocks and moss. Happy sounds of moving water. And for her baby, a duckling, dabbling in the safe shallows of her mother’s beautiful life-giving stream.
For my mother: Last fall, I became aware for the first time that as the days shorten and the weather turns cooler, bees take naps in flowers. I found them everywhere - in the center of dahlias, zinnias, roses, tucked under a petal, curled in a leaf. Sleepy and slow, they were immersed in beauty and color, and scent. My prayer image for my mother is a sleepy little bee in a flower garden.
I could go on, but I think you get the point. Prayer images are a remarkable gift that allow us to live into Paul’s command to “Rejoice always, pray continually, and give thanks in all circumstances.” I pray them while I’m swimming laps in the morning, driving in the car, taking a shower, and feeding the cats. Conjuring images is as natural to us as breathing. It frees us from formulaic stressors, like “Am I doing this right?” It allows us to pray straight from the heart, bypassing the brain, mouth, lips, and ego. It engages our divinely inspired creativity and connects us with God and the Creation in fresh and innovative ways.
I pray for you wholeness and well-being and exactly what God intends for you.